A Girl Newsie

A Fine Life

Ok, after a lot of thinking, and encouragement form you guys, I finally decided to post my FanFiction stories on Wattpad. I have thought very long and very hard about this, but after a lot of thinking I'm finally doing it. (Also posting this cause I was supposed
to do some editing and I'm board so here ya go)

ps to new readers this is in fact my story, if you say this on FanFiction.Net I did not steal it. The link is in my profile and you can look through my conversation thing, just scroll down and you can find it. Anyways I hope you enjoy.

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Late July 1897

"Jack! Crutchie! Race! Albert! Elmer! Specs! Henry! Jojo!, Finch! Mush! Sniper! Romeo! Buttons! Blink! Ike! Mike! Tommy! Wake up ya bums! We's gotta carry the banner. C'mon, up an at 'em," a nineteen year old boy named Wolf, aka leader of Manhattan yelled, while either pulling off their blankets, or whacking them with a pillow.

Early mornings at The Lodging House wasn't something to look forward to. Every morning was the same, wake up, get ready, and sell the papers. After making his rounds in the bunk room he went up to a door of an old storage closet and banged at the door while yelling, "C'mon Feister, get a move on!"

The girl- Feister- grumbled. When she opened her eyes the sun was shining bright through the window. She grumbled more as Wolf banged at the door for her to get up. "I'm comin', keep ya shirt on," Feister yelled. All she wanted was a few more minutes of sleep. In peace, with no one banging at her door like a mad person, but by the sounds of the bangs that wasn't going to happen.

Feister has been with the newsies since she was six. One night while she was walking down the street someone jumped her. Luckily Jack and a few of the other boys were still out and saved her before any damage was done.

So after that they brought her back to the Lodge, and now at the age thirteen she was doing just fine. But living in a Lodge full of boys had its ups and downs. One of the downsides is that she was the only girl newsie. Sure there was Smalls, but she lived up in Bronx. But on the up side Feister had a bunch of brothers that she loved and they loved her.

After a few moments the thirteen year old rolled out of bed (literally) and onto the floor where she grabbed her worn out work boots and laced them up.

Then she stood up and pulled her suspenders over her shoulders and then grabbed her grey plaid shirt and buttoned it up before grabbing her vest then braided her dark hair; putting her cap on and then tucked the braid under it.

After that she walked up to the door and took a deep breath before turning the knob, which clicked. Throughout the years she'd learned to lock her door at night so the boys wouldn't play pranks on her at night or barge in while she was getting dressed. She opened the door and stepped out of her room and leaned against the door frame she saw the usual mayhem.

"Al, get back here, that's my cigar!" A fifteen yr. old boy named Racetrack (Race for short) yelled, chasing a fifteen year old boy named Albert up and around the room.

"If you can steal this one you can steal anudda!" the red head yelled back, pushing passed a sleepy Specs, (also fifteen) who almost fell onto a unaware and sleepy Jojo, who was fourteen. Feister smiled, and shook her head.

It was the usual morning routine alright, and it always started with the game of 'steel Race's cigar'. Why Albert would attempt to get himself soaked every morning was beyond her, but it sure was funny watching them chase the other around.