Jack Kelly is da reason why I feel so very low. I wish dat I could go back in time and tell him hit da road.
I sang this stupid little rhyme over and over in my head, my hands working on the bit of twine between my fingers at the same rhythm. Over the past few mornings I had worked myself up into an unfit state of self pity, trying to distract myself from the feeling of loneliness welling up in my chest.
I was so hopeless, a whole four days and I still hadn't gotten over my almost new job and almost new family. I mean, it was like what, three decent conversations and I was a goner.
I shook my head to bring myself out of my thoughts, the unmade twine dropping from my fingers and a small gasp slipping past my lips as a sharp whack was delivered to the back of my head.
"Quite lagg'en an git back ta work boy!"
I nodded furiously and picked up the piece of unmade string that had fallen to the floor, hurriedly rolling it between my already bloody fingers at an uncomfortably fast pace.
Working with without gloves on raw straw always pricked your skin. But, why would they give some street filth like us gloves? That would cost money and they knew we would work without them anyways. Any boy here would kill to work more hours, maybe for a couple different reasons but we all had one goal in life. To survive. And that is what I chalked up my existence to, surviving.
My shoulders hurt, my back hurt, everything hurt but there was not'in I could do about it. No one cared and no one ever would.
Since there was no talking allowed while we worked, directly after the little talking to I had received from my foreman the boy next ta me had just shot me a half worried half remorseful look and returned to his work, I did the same. My mind drifted back to the events of yesterday morning, the sides of my lips twitching upwards in a semblance of a smile.
I bit my tongue to rid the childish grin off my face, composing my features back into a disinterested and possibly bored expression.
Although my face wouldn't show it I smiled as I thought about yesterday. I had found my hat outside da place where I had first met Jack. I knew that he had left it there and I was grateful he didn't corner me and force me ta talk to him.
Maybe he was waiting for me to come to him, I didn't know but I wouldn't. I couldn't.
Even if Jack didn't think that I was using him, his boys did. And even though I didn't want to let them, their words really hurt me.
I tried to shrug off my hurt and think about my former happiness of getting my hat back. Even though it was something so small I felt almost naked without it. It was like my security blanket and it had felt so wrong to be without it.
I would still see a Newsie here and there on the street from time to time. Being the chicken that I am I would hide so they wouldn't see me. I hadn't seen Jack and I was both grateful and disappointed by that.
He was the first person to show me kindness and even though it might have been fake I treasured the time I had spent with him.
A silent chuckle passed by my lips an I listened to my thoughts. Listen to me, I sounded like some heartbroken miss that had just lost her beau. No, that wasn't me. I just wanted a friend.
I gritted my teeth as my fingers stung, the rough straw rubbing unforgivingly against my already raw skin. I stopped my progress on my string to look down at my wrist, the clean thin line that was already starting to scab over making me frown.
I didn't want to, but yet i did. And maybe... Just maybe I should have.
It felt as though I was just blundering through life, not really living but just... Existing?
It felt quite pointless.
I shook off my feelings and turned my thoughts off, returning my attention to the straw in my hands and glaring at it as if it were the cause for all of my problems.
Bad straw, evil straw.
A few hours later I found myself outside of one of the many workhouses I called myself 'employed' at. I had just finished my shift and now it was time for me to go home, wherever home might be. Judging by where the sun was shining on the buildings, or the lack thereof of sun more like I would say it was about ten at night. I sighed.
Two hours until I had to be somewhere.
Two whole hours to surround and surrender myself to my thoughts.
Two complete, long hours where my life is in my hands.
I shuddered.
"Nope. No Crutchie, you are not allowing yerself ta that way a think'in. You is gonna go an... You is gonna go and find something to ta do. Yup."
I gave myself a nod and set out to find something occupy my time and possibly harness my thoughts.
Food.
That would be a good place to start.
Trashcans.
Was my initial line of thinking but I stopped myself before I could go farther. Since I had so much time I might as well shoot for something a little more appealing.
Soup kitchen?
I suggested, my legs stopping and turning my being in the right direction. My hands were buried in my pockets and my head was lowered as I slunk through the allies, my brain absentmindedly threading my person through the mapped out route in my head.
I stuck to the safe back ally ways, avoiding any... questionable persons and sticking to the sides of the streets. I always limped but it was getting better. Good behavior always helped in my healing process.
And being... Let's see, how old was I?
My brow furrowed as I walked. I think I was 14. Yeah.
Anyways, being a fourteen year old kid on da streets one tended to pick up on a few things. Even though I wasn't the strongest I had two things. Seniority, and a million dollar poker face.
Don't let them see and they'll leave you be. That was my motto for the whole of the fourteen years of my life.
Even with my limp I had picked up a few techniques to get myself out of a sticky situation or two.
Something around the idea of using the opponents weaknesses against him and to utilize my strengths.
Believe me though, it was easier said then done.
My stomach growled in appreciation as the smell of watered down soup and stale bread reached my nose, my head shooting up and my eyes darting around the area as I came to the entrance of one of the more inhabited courtyards of the city. The domain of Mr. Jacobi.
A loud and merry laugh brought me to my senses, my heart beating erratically and my stomach taking a dive right down to the bottom of my worn shoes.
No, no, no, no, no.
Not here, not now.
Of course it was Jack, along with his whole group of Newsies.
This was just awesome. The cherry on top of the beautifully iced and intricately decorated cake really.
Of course they would be here, it was an open soup kitchen that was first come first serve after all, and I it at the most busy time of night.
I was so brilliant.
I shook my head to shake myself out of my shocked stupor and turned on my heels. Quite set on my intent to hot foot it out of there immediately. And, I would have done just that if Mr. Jacobi, who was the ma hosting this little get together hadn't spotted me and quite helpfully shouted out to me to grab my attention.
Oi! My boy! I didn't think you would show! I'm so pleased ta see ya ma'boy!"
I visibly cringed at the loud greeting. Mr. Jacobi and I had sort of a... love hate relationship.
I had to say that he was the very best foreman though.
All of my foremen being hard headed idiots who like to bully anything that moved and was smaller then them with Mr. Jacobi included. That being said, he always invited me to his monthly soup kitchens and once and a while he would smuggle a mug of soup out to me after I worded a particularly long shift. Like I said, love hate relationship. And I was definitely feeling the hate part of that right now.
My shoulders slumped and I slowly turned around. There was no way I could just run out of there now, especially when my boss, the boss who just had to be the one that I was supposed to show up to work for in two hours time was standing right there. Disobey an order from him and I was sure to pay for it later.
Granted, if I was good and obeyed everything he said I could almost consider him a friend.
So, I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders. Hopefully they hadn't seen me yet and I could offer to help Mr. Jacobi i his kitchen, away from the crowd. If I just got the formalities over and done with quickly I could wrap this up nice and cleanly with a nice mug of soup and a chunk of stale bread along with it. I smiled at my plan. If I could pull this off I would be ecstatic till the end of this century.
Well, the key word was if. If I could pull this off.
Oh boy, I am so doomed.
"Hey Mista Jacobi."
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