The Runaway (Spot Conlon x OC)

Chapter 21

Kris POV

I made my last trip back to the lodging house. I quickly changed back into my newsie clothes and shoved my hair up into my cap. After counting the Jersey Boys, I loaded all the Brooklynites and Queens Boys into the wagon. I hooked the wagon onto my bike and started peddling towards Queens first.

TWO HOURS LATER..

I finally came upon the familiar street in which I had walked numerous times. I approached the Queens lodging house and picked the lock, to my surprise, all the guards were knocked out cold.

They reeked of alcohol, implying that the partying wasn't only in Jersey. I carefully walked around them, dragging the unconscious boys behind me.

Once I finally made it to the sleeping quarters and dragged the boys up a few stairs, I threw them onto their bunks. I put a few cold towels on their forehead and tucked them in before heading back down. 

I briefly stopped at the kitchen, pausing to pilfer a few snacks for my journey to Brooklyn. "I'm sure they won't mind. After all, I'm no stranger and I brought home their boys" I thought.

I returned to my bike. I peddled off towards Brooklyn to return the remaining 5 Brooklynites to their Burrough.

ONE HOUR LATER..

I had to take a detour and pass-through Manhattan, for the roads were closed off my original route. As I was passing by, I unconsciously stopped. My eyes widened at the structure. The 'Hattan Cabin.

I stepped off the bike. Standing under the dim light of a lamppost, I took off my cap, letting my hair fall, and stared at the scenery. Memories flooded my conscience and vision. Memories of Racetrack, Jack, Mush, Ace, and most of all.... him.

The thought of Spot always hit a soft spot and made my chest heavy. Tears brimmed my eyes as I clutched my shirt where my heart lies. 

Narrator POV

Being here, remembering the memories, just made Kris long for his presence, his touch, his love. So close yet so far. Falling to her knees, hand still gripping her shirt while the other sinks its nails into her skin, tears started to fall from her face.

The pain in her chest was unbearable, just as it was the day she left. Ever since she had gained consciousness in Jersey, she refused to think about him, for she didn't want to find an alternative or find out that she can survive without him.

This time, this time for sure, she would finally put an end to this heartbreak. Kris could not bear the feeling of the withdrawal she had from him. She used to be so blissful. Full of joy and love, but now struggling not to break as she holds her breath. As if all the butterflies in her stomach had died.

She finally released her breath, filling up her lungs once again with oxygen. She wiped her eyes and looked at the lodging-house, the distribution center, even Tibby's one last time.

Her tears had come to a stop. For a second her pain is no longer present. Kris had made it to the second to last phase. She stood there. She did not cry, she did not scream, she did not hear, nor did she see. For a second, she was empty and still. For a second she was numbed and relieved of the excruciating pain. 

For a second her heart died.