Christina

The pain is what woke me up.

I was laying on a hardwood floor. Out of the corners of my eyes, I could observe bunk beds all around me. A dim, warm yellow candle glowed above, flickering like it barely had any wax left. I made an attempt to sit up, but excruciating pain spread like wild fire from the top of my neck down to the soles of my feet. I took shaky breaths as I slowly laid back down on the icy-cold floor.

Thud!

In the corner of my eye, I saw a boy jump down from one of the bunk beds tucked away in the corner.

"How you feeling, New Girl?" his voice echoed in the vacant room.

"Who are you?" I asked, not answering his question. He approached me slowly but surely and I did my best to back away from him. "Stay away!" I spoke.

"Don't worry, I ain't interested in hurting you," The boy replied as he stood over me. He seemed my age. He had jet black hair and intense dark eyes. His skin was pale like he never saw a drop of sunlight.  "My name's Quint. You got a name, Girl?"

"Chris. My name's Chris."

"Ah, Chris. I like that name." He smirked.

I coughed. "Where am I?"

He crossed his arms and said, "Really? You don't know where you are?" I shook my head at the question. "Wow! You were pretty delirious when they brought you in here. But, that doesn't matter. You're in the Refuge."

"Dammit," I muttered. I remembered that Oscar and Morris beat me and Jack up. Man, how I hate those two.

He hoisted himself up on the nearest bunk bed. "So, Chris, tell me 'bout yaself."

"Okay," I tried to sit up. Once again, pain spread from my torso. "Ow, shit." I clutched my left side and balanced myself on a chair that was close to me.

"What wrong?" Quint forgot about his previous question. He had a genuinely concerned expression on his soft face as he came to help me sit down.

Why is he so worried 'bout me? He hardly even knows me.

"I'm fine. I just need to...sit down." I carefully sat in the chair and it squeaked under my weight. "I think somethin' might be broken." I breathed heavily and examined my hand grasping my side. I pulled up my shirt to see an enormous bruise that covered my ribs. I gasped, surprised at the large purple patch.

"Your ribs! I think one of them is broken." Quint gaped at the bruise.

"It hurts so bad." I fought against the hot tears that were welling in my eyes.

"I dunno what to do." Quint looked like he was totally and utterly perplexed.

***

Jack

I woke in a cold sweat, chills covering my entire body. I choked for breath. My throat was dry and it felt like sandpaper. I felt something wet on my face. I touched just underneath my nose and saw my fingers covered in thick blood. I sat up, which was extremely painful. I let out a hard groans in pain.

"Chris..." I murmured. I heard no reply. I could barely see out of my right eye. I felt the swollen skin around it. My nose throbbed violently. "Chris..." I tried again, a little louder this time. The only reply was the sound of the late night city and the slight humming of the street lamps. I saw Chris's hat by my side. I felt the brown soft fabric when the horrifying thought attacked my mind.

She's gone.

I twisted my neck and searched all over. There was nobody to be seen.

"Chris!" I screamed. My voice echoed in the distance. I grabbed her hat and took off sprinting.

Everything in my body was pleading me not to run. It hurt horribly, but I needed to let the other newsies know what happened.

***

I burst through the door with such force that I was surprised it didn't break off its hinges. Once the newsies saw me, all bloody and discombobulated, their miscellaneous conversations stopped, and they fell silent. They stared at me, concern across all their faces.

"She's gone." I panted, still clutching her hat tightly in my hand.

Davey stood up, "Who's gone? What happened to you?"

I took in a shallow, shaky breath as I explained everything that I could remember. "I think that Oscar and Morris took her to the Refuge."

"Screw those Delanceys. They are always puttin' newsies in that damn Refuge, and we always break them out," Race chewed forcefully on his cigar. "What's the point?"

I nodded, agreeing with Race. "I say that we break her out tomorrow night when Snyder will be sleepin'."

"Yeah! 'Ol Snyder won't expect us to come durin' the night!" Crutchie awed at the plan.

"So, it's settled," I said, wiping some dripping blood from my nose. "Hey, do any of ya know how ta fix a broken nose?"

Yay! I made up my own character named Quint. I have some big plans for him *wink wink*

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