Task chosen: "Task Two: Change means 'Doing' is a force for the betterment of a group of people's lives."

Word Count: 3,313 words (not including author's not)

Newsies Pape Selling Competition piece. ;)

Being a newsie was no cakewalk. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. In fact, for the young kids of the streets, it might as well of been hell. Manhattan wasn't a place full of brotherhood and friendships that would never fade. For the newsboys, it was more like a kind of prison than anything else. They didn't know each other and they weren't close at all. Until one day, all that changed.

There was the leader. They called him Pluck. The boys new why. Every time they got even a penny, it would be plucked from their little hands as an insurance for protection... from Pluck. If the boys didn't make enough money, they were thrown to the curb like yesterday's paper and they were not allowed back until they could pay for it.

"I'll hold onto it for ya," he would say. "Keep it safe so no one steals it." Little did the little kids, the new kids know, they'd never see that money again. Only just enough for them to sell again the next day. They wouldn't get anymore food than what the nuns gave them every morning.

The boys couldn't fight back. They were no match for the bigger boys that would split their profits for booze and cigars. The younger kids couldn't do much else than mind their mouths and keep to themselves. If the leaders found them talking or helping each other, they'd be yelled at and beaten. Pluck didn't want them thinking they could band together.

There were so many little boys who had only needed to get a few coins for food. They were sucked into the madness of being newsies and most wanted out. But Pluck made it clear that if they wanted out, it was to the Refuge with them. And they didn't dare try and run. Pluck would surely find them. He was friends with Brooklyn. The leaders of the two boroughs liked to keep their boys in line. Well, more like the leader of Manhattan would keep the Brooklyn leader in line. Until one day, all that had a chance to change. One day, a boy with a dreamers look in his eyes would step through the doors of the lodging house.

He was one of the happiest, care-free people the boys had ever met. It was heartbreaking to know what he was walking into and not being able to stop him. He was a happy soul with the most loving green eyes any of those boys had ever seen. And they could barely look at him, knowing all the hope and love he carried around would soon be stripped away.

One boy tried to warn him. He was thin and weak. He had curly blond hair and the bluest eyes and a fading Italian accent. He tried. He couldn't bare to see this older boy be broken just as he was. And he'd been severely punished for it. The boys would see him walking with a limp after he'd tried. But they didn't try and help him. They didn't try to clean the welts he surely had on his back after that. Except... the new boy.

Jack. Jack Kelly, they called him. And he was a sneaky one. When the boy tried to warn him, he'd seen the signs of abuse. He was young, but he was not stupid. He was an orphaned boy who'd been on the streets for years. Just a boy who decided to try and make some real money. And when he saw the Italian boy run up to him, telling him to leave while he still could, he knew he couldn't. Not when he knew what dangers lie there. Not while he knew these kids weren't safe.

He cleaned out the Italian boy's wounds in the middle of the night, calming him by telling him they wouldn't be caught. That Pluck wouldn't come for them. And it didn't stop there. The blue eyed boy told Jack about the rest of them. About how he wanted to do something, but he couldn't. He was a coward. He couldn't protect the kids that were scared to speak up. And Jack knew he had to do something. He needed to change something.

The Italian boy told Jack about how hardly any of them had a name to call their own. He told Jack about the way they would all look at each other, longing to talk to one another, but being too scared of a trip to see the Spider. He told Jack how he had tried. He had tried to protect them even though he didn't know them.

Jack didn't like it. He hated seeing all those young faces so deprived of the joy they deserved. And he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna do something about it. So he and the Italian boy made a deal. They were gonna make something change. And they weren't gonna do it alone.

It was the next night. Pluck and the olders had gone off to sleep. Jack was awake. He knew what he had to do. And he knew it wasn't gonna be easy. But he also knew, in the long run, it might have been the only option. So he started by waking up the young Italian boy who had warned him in the first place. Then they woke up the others.

They woke up the boy with the glasses he would be blind without. Then the boy with fiery red hair who wasn't too happy with being woken up so early. The two of them had tried to roll over. They tried to ignore it. But Jack wouldn't... couldn't give up. These kids... he didn't know them. But they mattered. They weren't just gutter rats. They were kids who deserved to have a smile on their face and loose change in their pockets. And he knew if they worked together, if they stayed together, they could do it.

"Cmon, fellas... lets change things 'round here." And they listened. So he moved to the next of them. A small boy with dark brown hair and a flirty smile and a boy with a slingshot that he always had handy. Then a boy with the biggest fake smile Jack had ever seen. It broke Jack's heart. There were so many of them. Without names, without safety, without a friend for God's sake.

Then there was the boy with the crutch. He had the most distant, faraway green eyes Jack had ever seen. He hated it there. Jack knew it. But he couldn't leave. And Jack was gonna change it. They all were. Something had to change.

The Italian boy lead them outside. They slipped out the window, being quiet enough to not wake up the older boys that would surely punish them for not being the "good boys" they were supposed to be. It was freezing cold outside in the middle of the night. Jack made sure to grab a few blankets first. He draped them around the shivering kids' shoulders and then settled next to the boy with the crutch and the Italian boy he'd just met. They shared one and huddled together for warmth.

"Fellas... I know you're scared," he had said. "But they can't push us 'round like this." They were all silent. Not one of them had said a word since they'd been out there. But Jack was no quitter. So he spoke again. "So all of you's is just okay with bein' beat fer the rest a' your life?"

The boy with the crutch squinted his eyes in confusion. "What can we do?" It was the question that made it real. The question that started it all came from the boy with the first glimmer of hope he had in his eyes since any of those boys had met him. And after that, it was all up to the will of those boys that thought they never stood a chance.

"We can fight back."

The looks on their faces would never leave Jack's mind. The Italian boy gave him a wide eyed expression, as if he was telling Jack to think about the wounds he helped him tend to after a belt had been brought down on his back too many times and brass knuckles had been pounded to his chest and face. But Jack looked around to the others. Some were looking at him with the most determined expressions he'd ever seen. Others were beyond terrified.

"They's bigga' than us!"

"They's'll stomp us ta the ground!"

"He'll give us ta the Spida'!"

All the protests were heard by a shocked little boy who was only trying to better the life for the working kids of the city. But he kept his straight face and he smiled when the crippled boy huddled next to him asked a very small question in a very small voice. "How?"

That was when they all listened. That one, simple, word was the thing that sparked hope in all of them. How?

It was the next morning when all the boys had to pretend nothing had happened. When they had to ignore each other once more. When they had to pretend that they were sleep deprived or still shivering from the cold they'd been outside in all night. But they snuck anxious glances behind Pluck's back. The bully didn't even notice.

Jack went out with the gimp and the Italian boy that day. After they bought their papes, they met in an alleyway. The small, gimp boy refused to let Jack carry him to wherever they were going. The blue eyed boy laughed at that and they went on to find that the Italian sold regularly at Sheepshead Races. It was a far walk, but Jack understood why. There was less competition. There was less people out to hurt him. There were more horses to bet on. And Jack got to know those two boy that day, better than anyone had ever known them in their whole lives.

The Italian boy loved to gamble. It took all of his will power to listen to Jack. They needed the money. But when Jack turned his back, the kid picked a horse. He won. Five whole dollars. The words had slipped out, "You got lucky, Racer." The boy looked at him with a shocked. No one had ever given him so much as a nickname before. And the name stuck.

The boy with the crutch was a different story. The Italian... Race, had seen the envy on the younger kid's face when Jack had called him Racer. Then he started calling him Race all day. So on the way home, Race had nudged him and smiled at him. "Ya want a name too?" Jack had laughed and watched as Race thought hard when the gimp boy nodded. "How 'bout Crutchie? Ya know, cause a' your crutch." And that was how the change in relationships between newsies had started.

When they made it back, all the youngsters of the Lodge were waiting for them, outside, just like they talked about. The older boys were inside, drinking with their extra change and smoking their damn cigars. They didn't even notice the kids that they'd imprisoned upstairs had slipped down the fire escape to the front porch.

"How'd we do, fellas?" The smiles on their faces warmed Jack's heart.

"The ladies was fallin' all ova' us! I neva' thought about sellin' with otha' people before!" Jack laughed as the small boy with dark brown eyes and matching brown hair remembered his eventful day, looking off into the distance like he was seeing an angel. He slung an arm around him and ruffled his hair, enjoying the delighted squeal he got in response before he let go.

The red head next to the small romantic smiled too as he looked down at the boy. "We got enough ta get our own papes tomorrow and even get some lunch..." It must have been something they had never had before.

"Alright, boys... let's do this."

Brooklyn wasn't so far. Especially not with all the boys' newfound energy. Jack was sure they'd never had a proper meal in their life. They were all too excited for what Jack knew would happen next. They couldn't fight off Pluck alone. No way in hell. They weren't stronger than him or the boys that followed his lead and tormented them. Lucky for the young newsboys, Jack had a friend. Well... an acquaintance. Okay, he knew a guy who would be willing to help. A guy who had the same problem.

There was about twelve of them that went on the journey to Brooklyn. And they got to the Brooklyn Lodging house, letting Jack climb up the latter of the fire escape to wake up another boy and drag him down to the Manhattan boys.

"What the hell do ya think your doin', Kelly?" The boy was annoyed. His brown eyes were furious at being woken up in the middle of the night.

Jack didn't waste a second. "We're takin' down Pluck." That was when it was real. That was when all of the boys who were finally speaking to each other finally shut up and listened to the conversation. "Tonight." And Spot was in.

Life as a Brooklyn newsie has gone to hell ever since Pluck had been in charge of the 'Hattan newsies. The Brooklyn leader was terrified of him and did whatever he said to do. It was a mess. But Jack wasn't scared of Pluck. The older boy was just a kid hiding behind alcohol and cigars. And Jack Kelly was ready to change the whole game.

Pluck was drunk out of his mind. He knew it. But he didn't care. He wasn't going to sell the next day. It was equally as profitable to just have the brats do it for him. Then something occurred to him. There was absolutely no noise coming from upstairs. Not the usual snores or coughs or screams he was used to. And it didn't settle well with him.

He dragged the boys up the stairs with him. They all didn't know why. But they followed him anyways, admittedly being a little scared of what might happen if they didn't. But when Pluck shoved the door open and they were met with an empty bedroom, every one of them became furious. But none of their reactions would match their leader's.

"Where the hell are they?!" Everyone flinched at the eighteen year old's rough tone. No one said a word. Pluck walked through the silent crowd. He paced back and forth until they heard a noise from downstairs.

He raced down in a drunken manner, hitting walls as he tried to regain his balance lost in his fury. His followers did just that. They followed. Just like they did every other day. And when they got back to the main room, they found something that enraged them all.

Jack stood at the front of the angry heard, arms crossed over his chest and a proud smirk on his face. Next to him, the future king of Brooklyn. He was shorter but damn he was intimidating. His dark brown eyes cut through all of them like a knife. The rest of the boys stood behind them, ready to fight.

"What do you think you're doin', newbie?" the boy slurred, growling directly at Jack. The younger kid just shrugged, his smirk never faltering.

"Thought it was time for a change 'round here is all." He said it like it was no big deal. But to these kids that would one day start a revolution, it was everything.

"Oh really?" Pluck chuckled. "You and your army a' lunkheads gonna try an' do somethin'?" he mocked a smirk on his face. "Well it ain't bright. I'll send Snyda' afta' everyone a' ya lousy little bastards!"

Jack looked around. He could see the fear in their eyes. It maybe the fear of the Spider, but it could have also been the fear of change. The fear of the unknown. What would happen if they won? No one knew. But they couldn't keep living like this. They just couldn't.

"Newsies..." he called to 'Hatteners and Brooklyn alike. They were all boys that needed something better. They longed for the day when they wouldn't be prisoners any longer. When they would be set free from this mess of a life. And without the next two words, Jack feared they would have been stuck like that forever. But he shook his head. He brushed away his doubt. He didn't think. He did. "Get 'em!"

And that's when all hell broke loose.

It was a mess. And it wouldn't leave the minds of the kids of Manhattan or Brooklyn for the next few years. Kids woke up screaming at night, begging for protection from the wrath of drunk bullies. But it was different after that night. Before that night, boys would wake up screaming with no one to wrap their arms around them and tell them they were safe. Before that night, the kids would flinch whenever the door to the bedrooms were thrown open. Before that night, they would shy away from touch and affection. Before that night, they didn't have brothers. But after that night... all of it changed.

Pluck had been hauled away to jail. Real prison, by bulls who had walked by while the brawl was happening. He and some of the others got busted for drinking and gambling. Boy had been hurt bad. But everyone of them made it through. None of them would let another fight alone. It was like an army of brothers, fighting by each other's side like they grew up protecting one another. And then, when it was over, they didn't stop.

Spot had returned to a leaderless Brooklyn. The cowardly newsie in charge had fled at the talk of a take over. The young Brooklyn boy took over at eleven years old. And he became known as the toughest newsie in all New York. But not many knew about the pact he had made with Manhattan. He had their backs. Always.

Jack had been voted in as the new Manhattan leader. He took the job with caution and a fellow newsie to help him. That little Italian that had been brave enough to try and warn him about the dangers of that house was his second in command and he was a hell of a friend. Race. That was his name. Racetrack Higgins, it had evolved to become. To this day, not many knew why.

Crutchie was another one of them that was in charge. He was one of the older kids that the boys would run to after a nightmare or ask for help patching themselves up after a run in with the Delanceys. He was one of the best brothers anyone could've asked for.

They all grew closer over the years, not leaving each other's side for anything. And Jack and Race and Crutchie made sure they all had a name to call their own. They had Specs, Albert, Elmer, Buttons, Henry, Finch, Romeo, Sniper, JoJo all of them. They all had a name. They all had a say. They all had brothers to look out for them. To keep them safe. And the three in charge made sure they had a shoulder to cry on when they woke up from visions of their pasts. They made sure every boy had a place to sleep and something to eat everyday.

It was a hell of a change. They went from prisoners to family all because they decided to do something. They changed the whole game. And they wouldn't ever stop standing up for their own rights. Because sometimes, a change will do a hell of a lot of good.

Wow. Sometimes I just start writing and some things just... happen. I don't know.

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya Fansies!