We begin walking down to the base of the Brooklyn bridge, which is where we usually sell since there's usually a lot of people.

"Extra extra! Buildings collapsing all over New York and killing dozens! You heard it right here, folks!" I yell, catching a few peoples' attention. An older lady walks over with a penny and hands it to me, and I give her the paper. 

"Nice one!" Albert says, I smile and pocket the penny.

"Thanks, Albie," I say, tipping my cap to him. I turn back to yelling crazy off the cuff headlines, managing to snag a few pennies.

And after what feels like 20 hours of standing out in the hot sun, I finish selling my papes, while Albert still only has about two or three left to sell.

I take this extra time to sit down on a bench and watch Albert sell his last few papes in awe. When suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see a man covered in blood run out of the alley. I freeze up for a moment before running into the alley to see what happened, but I'm only met with the smell of blood and a vague shadowed body of a person lying in a pool of what I can only assume is blood.

I nearly faint at the sight before me, the metallic air stinging my eyes as well as tears.

"Y/n? What're ya doin'?" The voice of Albert is muffled from the sight that's distracting my senses. I try to speak, to say what I'm seeing, but my vocal chords seem to have shut down. "Hey, Y/n/n, what're ya lookat a-"

There's silence. Pure, horrific silence. I would have run to help the man if there hadn't been so much blood, too much blood, indicating that it isn't just a small wound, or even something the could end up being fatal. It's too late. He's dead.

 I feel Albert's hand grasp my shoulder before turning my body away and pressing my face into his chest to make sure that I can't see anything.

"Let's... Let's go tell da cops," Albert mutters just loud enough for me to hear. I nod and unwelcome tears drip from my eyes and seep into Albert's shirt.

A couple seconds pass before Albert turns both of us around and begins to start walking, helping me to walk as well, as my body feels too numb to move on my own. But the more we walk, the more I come to terms with what we just saw.

I can't stop myself from crying, which may catch peoples' attention but I don't care. Albert's arm wraps around my shoulder, providing me an internal warmth that keeps me from crying even more.

Once we reach the police station and take a step inside, I feel safer, even though the police are the ones who would beat us during the strike for no reason.

"Hello? Um, sir?" Albert asks the person at the front desk, who looks to be bored out of his mind.

"Yeah?" The man ask, a thick New York accent shinning through just one word.

"Uh, we was sellin' papes and we found a dead body in the alley. There was lots ah blood and da poirson wasn't movin'. It was in one ah the alleys on Peck Slip," Albert says, pushing back all of the distraught emotions he first had. The man at the desk sits up straighter and writes something down.

"Wow, okay, could you two please take a seat in heah while a couple officahs go check out the location?" The man at the front desk asks, clearly excited for action. I nod and Albert and I take a seat in the waiting room, where there's no one else waiting.

While sitting there, my breathing goes from quick and sporadic, to slow and steadied. Albert's hand reaches down to hold mine, causing my heart to momentarily stop.

His hands are so warm, compared to my cold ones. My hands have always been cold, it's something because of my blood circulation, from what my mom told me, it runs in the family.

Although, I don't remember much about the rest of my family. I was tossed to the streets with Race. It wasn't that mom hated us, it was dad. Dad was mean, cruel, and he never wanted to see us around the house.

Race sorta become the father, but he was never really fatherly, he was just the protector. He made sure that I wasn't seen by dad, and made sure that I could eat every day.

"Hey, Y/n, did you see who did it? Did you see it happen?" Albert asks, snapping me back into reality.

"Uh, I didn't see it. All I saw was a man covered in blood walking out of the alley. I didn't see much of his face, only the upper half," I say, trying my best to remember anything about the man.

"That's alright. Hey, this is all gonna be fine, don't worry. You'se prolly gonna have tah tell da bulls what you saw, and then we can head home," Albert says. I nod and there's another awkward moment of silence. "Should we tell Race?"

"No. We can't, or else he'll make sure that we don't get to sell together, or even sell at all," I say, worried about not being able to be with Albert anymore. Albert nods and we both wait for something to happen.

After about an hour of waiting, someone comes through the door with a gurney, and a white tarp over what seems to be a body, which I can only assume is the man from the alley.

A few police officers walk in, and one of them turns to Albert and I.

"Who are you two?" The man asks. I look up and feel fear, because of his intimidating glare.

"I'm Y/n, this is Albert. We discovered that guy's body and were told to wait here," I say, feeling fear rise inside of me.

"Oh, so you're the kids we was told about. Well, another officer's gonna take you two just to talk, see what we know about how he died, and what not," the man says before walking into the other room.

Not long after, a couple more officers come in and look at us. One waves me over, and I follow, while Albert is taken in by a different officer.

They take me to what looks like an interrogation room, and sit me down. An officer sits in front me at a desk with a notebook on it.

"Alright, so you'se Y/n, right?" The officer asks, I nod and he scribbles something in his book. "Okay, tell me what you saw."

"Um, I didn't see it happen. But I did see a man walking out of the alleyway covered in blood. I didn't see his whole face, just his nose up to his hair. So I went into the alley, thinking someone must have just been beat up. But then I saw the man, lying face down in a pool of blood.
My friend and newspaper selling partner went in after me and saw the body too. Then we both came here, and that was it," I say, explaining what happened from what I can remember. He scribbles ferociously.

"Alright, do you have any witnesses to back up the evidence that you were selling papes?" The man asks.

"Apart from Albert?" I ask, the officer nods. "Well, the people we were selling to, as in pedestrians."

"Okay, thank you. Where can we find ya if we need further questioning?" The officer asks.

"Well, after working hours I'd probably be at The World lodging house with the newsies, that's where I live," I say, already hearing the question I'd be asked if a policeman showed up for me and Albert. The man writes something down in his notebook before closing it.

"Alright, thanks a lot fah helpin'. If we need anythin' then we'll stop by. Now head off, ya friend should be waitin'."

I nod and stand up, walking out the door to see Albert waiting for me by it.

"How'd it go?" He asks. I shrug.

"It went alright. They said that if we're needed then they'll come by the lodging house, so get ready for that," I say, almost happy that Albert's with me.

"Oh god, I can't image how bad those questions'll be," Albert says. There's a minute of silence before I look up at the auburn haired boy.

"Albie, let's head home."

His Blood Colored Hair | Albert DaSilva x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now