Falling Short (A Sprace Fanfiction)

The Knife in My Back--Race

If the top of the chapter is any indication, I'm gonna try what the Betrayal and Trust authors did and so the song thing! Please tell me if you guys think I should do another chapter like this!

"It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Spot sent the girl to go with the other Brooklyn Newsies so we could talk alone.

"It is exactly what it looks like, Spot. How long has this been going on?"

"I'm not-"

"HOW LONG?" I'm surprised. I have never raised my voice around Spot once. But I have all the reasons in the world to now.

"I'm not cheating, Race. She came in here and kissed me. She kissed me."

"I don't care who kissed first. You lied to me, Spot! You said I was your one and only!" I feel the tears but can't seem to keep them in.

"Race, I-" Spot starts.

"No. Let me go clear my head. I'll come back to deal with you later. Probably tomorrow if I sleep alright." Before Spot can tell me any more lies, I leave the Lodging House.

I'm slowly learning that the things you Promised me are burning like a thousand willow trees.

I walk to the Brooklyn Bridge and pull a paper from my bag. It was a poem I had written around the time that we had started dating. The wind almost blows the paper out of my hand but I don't care at this point. Nothing seems to make sense. I let it blow away in the breeze and feel myself shaking.

Not from the cold.

But from the tears threatening to fall.

And every single Secret has been broadcast like TV

I'm sure that the girl Spot was with isn't gonna let him hear the end of it. Not only is Spot gonna blame his redefined legacy on me, but that means I'm never going near Brooklyn again if we tell the others.

Now all the threads are severed that are tying you to me

I start to walk back to Manhattan, a wave of nausea crashing over me. I couldn't live without him but I can't just crawl back to him.

I thought we were friends but now we're enemies
I thought we were friends but now we're enemies

CRACK! Lightning strikes in the distance. Rain pours over me and soaks me and my bag. But the poems don't matter anymore.

Pull your knife out of my back
Your blood runs black

I'm not an easy crier but the tears keep coming. Even though I knew we'd be over tomorrow, some part if me feels like I shouldn't have left.

I was just surprised at how you turned on me so fast
I let you in

I can still recall all the memories we spent together. Like the Christmas you came to my house to celebrate when we were kids. We just stared in the shop's window and gawked at the goods inside. That was one of the only times I've seen you scared, Spot. You'd thought my dad was home so you didn't want to stay and get us hurt. My mother insisted you stay and you did. I miss those days. When all we had to care about is if church was starting or if we could meet up to see each other.

I held you close

I believed God thought you would be the one. He seemed to send signs. When I had dreams about my father and the horrible things he did to my mother, it almost always seemed to be in Brooklyn.