Rebuilt

Chapter 1

    After the Refuge shutdown I was thrown to the streets. I got no family, I got no friends, and I'se certainly got no one missing me. I've been locked away most my life. Got thrown in when I was seven, after stealing and living on the streets for a grand total of two years. Now 17, I've only been out of the hell-hole for three months.

    I sit up in the rafters over looking the Bowery Theater. Petting my cat Misty as she curls in my lap, I lean against the thin post connected to the ceiling. I watch as people walk about the stage, looking small from this view. The star of the show, Medda Larkin mills about the stage doing vocal warm ups and talking to others. Presumably the costume designer, for how often she keeps adjusting Medda's poofy hat atop her head.

    It's quite dark up here, when a show starts it get's even darker. I see an average of two to three shows a day. Rich men and women fill up the theater just to see Medda preform.

    After each show I leave Misty up in the rafters and quickly descend to the bottom floor where the rich sat moments before. I search under each seat milling about for change that may have fallen out of someones pocket or purse. I rarely find much. At most a few penises. I steal the left over food that's left backstage after each show. Careful to watch for Medda or any other people that usually wonder about the stage. Not only would I'se get in trouble for stealing, I'se also get a whoppin' for breaking one of the most enforced rules: no children allowed in the theater.

    Which is strange, because I always see boys my age, younger, and older always hangin' around Medda and her theater.

    Must be family friends, I always tell myself.

    I snap out of my thoughts as Misty's ears perk from her slumbering head. Seconds later, her black furry body stretches out of my lap and she opens her eyes.

    A loud clamoring of voices erupts from behind the theaters curtains.

    "Miss Medda!" a boys says giving Medda a hug. "You'se were wonderful!"

    The most recent show finished about ten minuets ago, and my guess was that all of people stayed and watched.

    It was a group of boys all looking around my age, the youngest seeming to be a ten year old clinging to an older looking boys leg.

    Family, I say in my head.

    "Why thank you Jack!" Medda booms after the hug. "Glad you enjoyed."

    "We always enjoy you'se shows," a boy with glasses says.

    "You'se damn right we'se do Specs," another boy replies.

"Well," Jack says. "We'se better be off, it's gettin' dark and da Delanceys will be romin' around any second now."

    I see two tall figures emerge from each side of the stage. One on the left, one on the right. "We'se already here, Jacky-boy." One of figures says. They seem to be brothers from the resemblance between the two.

    I can't hear what Jack says in reply, until he turns to the rest of the boys that accompanied him. "LETS SOAK 'EM BOYS!" Jack yells.

    What's the deal between them? I wonder.

    Medda takes a step forward. "NOT!" she shouts. "In my theater."

    The two brothers look at Medda then turn and walk away. The group of boys in dirty clothing turn and leave. When I look back towards the brothers only one is standing next to Medda.

    "Say Miss Medda," the shorter brother says. "Since when did you have a street rat livin' up in you'se rafters?"

    A few of the boys turn back and look at the boy on stage.

    "What ever are you talking about dear Oscar?" I hear Medda ask.

    Oscar points up to where I'm sitting. "Heard the little runt gasp when Jack over there wanted to soak Morris 'n I."

    A hand clasps my shoulder and I whip around to see the other brother -Morris- glare down at me. "Now no one ever told me you'se was a goil," he sneers

    "Aye!" I hear someone yell. It wasn't Oscar so it must have been one of the boys from earlier. "What ever you'se doing up there stops!"

    Morris gripped my shoulder harder and looked in my face. "Now doll, you look hungry. Comes wit' me and I'se can get you'se some food."

    I looked at Morris and cringed. Winding my hand back I prepared to punch him right across his smirking face.

    He grabbed my hand and twisted it behind my back. "Now dear, that was not a good idea."

    He uses his foot and lays it against my back. I let out a cry of pain from the way he was holding my wrist. He held me over the side of the rafter and I could see a black haired boy looking at me from below.

    "Don't you'se do it Morris!" the boy yells.

    "Give me'se one good reason not to!" Morris sneers back.

    "The goil did nothin' to you'se!"

    "The dumb bitch tried to punch me!" Morris says, then pushed me over the side of the rafter.

(A/N: If you see any mistakes please feel free to let me know and I'll fix it as soon as I can! I am open to constructive criticism so please feel free to suggest things. If you have any special Newsies characters from the Newsies live version that you would like me to include please let me know!)