I pick at the scars on my wrist as Oscar and Morris heckle the smaller newsies. I hate this so much. Spot, why couldn't you pull through?
"Al? Is that you'se? We'se hasn't heard from you'se in a month," Blink says to me.
"Please leave, I don't want to get in trouble," I plead.
Oscar's rules are pretty strict, I'm not allowed to talk to anyone that Oscar doesn't allow. I have to clean the entire house and cook dinner by the time he gets home, if I'm not with him. If I am with him, I have to stay by his side at all times. Well, unless he says otherwise. I can't tell anyone about the way he beats me sometimes. I can't speak to him and Morris, unless spoken to and no back talking. That's the hardest, sometimes those idiots need it. The last one is the worst, I can't harm myself on purpose or try to kill myself to get out of it. And if I do break his rules, him and Morris practically beat me to a pulp.
Oscar glares at Blink and grabs my forearm, digging his nails into my skin.
"Ow, Osca-," he glares at me and starts to pull me into the Circulation center.
"I'm sorry," I whimper.
"Say it," he orders.
"I love you so much, Oscar," I lied with a fake smile.
He turns me so I face him and the newsies can see what's happening. He wraps his arms around my waist like Spot always did to kiss me. I throw my arms around his neck before he hunches over to kiss me. Spot never had to bend down that far, he was the perfect fit. The way my hand fit in his, how his lips were just the right size and not big and wet like someone I know. The way Spot would hold me and tell me everything will be okay was perfect.
That's the biggest lie there is.
What I wouldn't do for him to hold me again instead of Oscar. But he can't. I miss him so much. Why couldn't both of us die? We could finally be together.
Oscar breaks the kiss and slaps me across the face," Kiss back."
When he brings those slobbering lips back down on mine, I kiss back. Oscar often hits or slaps me in public for little things. Spot would never even lay a finger like that to hurt me. The newsies call and yell out for me to stop or that Spot still loves me. Oscar pulls away and drags me behind the counter to help Weasel.
Weasel thinks I'm dumber than a doornail because of the first day they made me help them. He asked me if I could count the papers into groups of ten. The problem was I didn't know English numbers too well, I only know numbers in French. So I counted what I thought ten meant, which turned out to be sept (seven).
Lord, did I get a beating for that one. But you bet I know how much ten is now. Today, I'm stuck doing that job again, but at the counter beside Weasel and Morris. Great. Jack, Crutchie, and Race get their papers without another word to me. David asks for a hundred putting down his money. Morris hands him a couple of my piles of dix (ten).
"Good job, Ally. You learn quick, exactly a hundred," David smiles at me.
He remembers, at least he's still nice.
"Beat it," Morris snaps at him.
David drags his feet as he walks away and Blink takes his place.
"Fifty," He stares at me," Al, you know I'm not the biggest fan of Spot but Delancey? Al, Spot still loves you."
Sure he does, but how can I love him when I'm here and he's up there?
"Beat it," Oscar sneer at him.
Blink sighs and starts to walk away with his papers, but suddenly stops and looks back at me," I thought we were friends."
I brush away tears starting to fall down my cheeks. Just the mention of his name. I miss the way he used to love me. Maybe I should just except that I have to love Oscar.
"Uncle Wiesel?" I ask him sweetly," Can I go see Oscar?"
He nods and I rush over to Oscar, who's watching the newsies get papers like a hawk. I wrap my arms around him and peck his cheek. He cups my face with his hands," Why would Spot ever give up a beauty like yourself?"
"What?" I ask whispering.
"Spot," he growls," Maybe you should go home and do your housework."
I nod as he starts pushing me out of the gates," You know how to get home?"
I nod again and start to walk to Blink's selling spot. I need to figure out what Oscar's keeping from me about Spot. I can still remember the day Oscar told me he died.
Oscar burst into our house during the middle of Sunday dinner. He rushed right over to me and told me about his cousin in Brooklyn who heard the news. He told me people were wailing in the dirty to the silver streets of Brooklyn because of his passing. I clasped on the floor sobbing my heart out. I knew it was going to happen, Spot wasn't doing so good after we got away from his father. Then, the look on my family's faces still haunt me as I too became one of those wailing people.