Hidden ( A Newsies Fan Fiction)

Chapter 2: The Boy on the Street

The next morning, Julie slipped through the crowded streets of Manhattan. She kept her head slightly bent so that no one would recognize her. She hurried along, lost in thought.

"So," she muttered under her breath. "How am I going to do this?" Being human, she had to find some way to feed herself. She was just on the verge of a genius idea when.............

"Miss!" a voice called out to her. "Would ya like ta buy a pape?" Julie spun around scowling.

"No, I do not want ta buy a...." she stopped abruptly, and stared at the boy. He looked about her age. He  was kind of cute, with hazel eyes and longish dark brown hair. His faced was smudged with dirt, and his clothes were old and dirty. He leaned on a wooden crutch. "I mean, I'm sorry, but no thanks," she corrected. She shook her head and ran off.

"Why did I do that?" she wondered to herself. Seeing the boy made her a little nervous. Not much made her nervous. She was tough as nails. The only thing in the world that she was afraid of was fire. That made sense, seeing how it was fire that tore her whole world apart.

Nearly six years ago, a nine year old Julie sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom. Her dad was asleep on the couch in the next room over, and her mom was cooking dinner. "Juliet, darling, where are you?" her mom called for her.

Julie looked up from her book. "I'm in my room," she answered.

"Can you please wake your father? Dinner's almost ready." her mom asked.

"Ok, mom." She got up from the floor and hurried down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "Daddy? Dinner's ready," she tapped him tentatively. She quickly backed away. She hated to make her harsh father angry. He grunted and rolled over. Julie sighed. She was not very patient. She shook him harder. "WAKE UP!" she yelled, which was probably not the best thing to do.

The large man woke up scowling. He looked around before his eyes came to rest on his daughter. "Was it you who woke me up?" he thundered. She nodded, trembling slightly.  He rose his hand, and struck the girl. She cried out. Julie's mother ran in to the room. Her blue eyes widened. 

"RICHARD!" she screamed. Even though it happened often, twenty-nine year old Eliza Evans hated it when her husband hurt her little girl. Richard turned and approached Eliza. He reached up and yanked on his wife's long, blond braid. She winced in pain. 

"No, stop it!" Julie yelled. She ran up behind her father and punched him in the back. 

"YOU LITTLE......." he hollered. Julie ran into the kitchen, her father close in tow. The man grabbed the first thing he could reach, a vase, and threw it at the girl. Eliza screamed. Julie quickly dodged the flying glass. It shattered a couple feet away from where she stood. Richard snatched up a figurine and hurled it at the girl. This time, it smashed into a pan which had been left on the stove, and in the confusion, it had caught on fire,

She pan crashed to the floor and the flames spread across the wooden floor. Richard backed away. Eliza ran across the floor to her daughter, and hoisted her up in her arms. She hastily dragged her over to the window. "Always remember that I love you," she whispered in the Julie's ear. "Listen to me. I need you to climb out this window and wait for me at our special spot." Their special spot was a little grove of willow trees where they often went together whenever Richard was feeling particularly enraged, or just plain drunk. Julie nodded.

"I love you," she said. Then she climbed out the window and ran off. She waited at the grove for three days. Her mother never came. Eliza Evans had never even made it out of the house.

"Watch where your going!" a voice shook her from her memories. She had accidentally walked right into a tall man, rich, by the look of his suit.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She glanced back at the newsie boy. He was talking to an older lady, asking her to buy a newspaper. He seemed so familiar to Julie. But, they couldn't have met before. Could they?