Sorry this took so long. I've sadly lost my enthusiasm for newsies. This is the last chapter. Perhaps there will be a epilogue but I highly doubted it.

Well here goes nothing...

I was miserable, it was easy to see. My mother knew I was miserable, my brother knew, Rupert knew, everyone knew. And yet nobody did anything about it. Not that I expected them to. But I had at least expected them to notice the warning signs, the signs that I was going to do something drastic. Those were obvious signs. My lack of enthusiasm, lack of appetite, lack of…well everything. I was dead to the world, brooding in my own misery.

I didn't participate in any activities. I was withdrawn from everything I did, not putting my heart or soul into anything. I was unpleasant company, according to my mother, and behaving like a sulking child. And, as I was so kindly informed by my brother, I looked like a wreck; red eyed from crying, pale, and sickly thin. They were the worst two weeks of my life to put it lightly.

I made a vow that night when my engagement to Rupert had been announced, that I was going to leave this life and go back to Spot. I had even had an idea that night, but it all seemed so farfetched that I was being to doubt it would work. My family posed a huge problem in my plan, if they doubted to reality of it for even a second, all hell would break lose. Everything had to be executed perfectly, nothing could go wrong.

But things were hard. Too hard. Sometimes I wondered if it was even worth it. Was Spot worth everything I was putting myself through? What if things were wonderful for a little bit but then he got bored with me? Then what? I couldn't come home, not if things worked out the way they should.

In between dress fittings and preparations for my upcoming wedding I worked on my escape. I had once shot, and no room for error. It all had to go right the first time, there was no second try. No "if at first you don't succeed…" because if I didn't succeed the first time it was all over. "It" being my life as I wanted it.

The day came. That day, the day that would change everything for me. I had been preparing for two weeks and it was all boiling down to this day, to this moment. "Mother," I called out somewhat hoarsely.

"Yes my dear?" She asked, walking into the foyer.

"I'm going for a walk with Heather."

"Oh wonderful," She clapped her hands together, delighted. "It's about time you stop sulking. Well, go, go," She pushed me toward the door, "Lord knows, you need the sun." Shoving my black, fur trimmed coat into my hand, she thrust me out of the house and into the day.

"Good-bye mother," I said sincerely, hoping it would be the last time I saw her.

"Good-bye Bethany, and don't look so grave, it's extremely unbecoming." God, how she'd regret saying that. She'd definitely regret saying those last eight words. My mother would come to wish she'd been kinder to me. They all would.

Everything was set. Everyone was ready, everyone was anxious, everyone was waiting. It was almost like a stage production. We could rehearse and rehearse but nobody knew how the show would actually turn out. No one knew if the critics would approve or find the plot believable. All we knew was that we were ready and well…it was time to raise the curtain, metaphorically speaking.

Heather ran and ran as fast as her legs could take her. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't how they'd planned it. This would prove to be their downfall. Their tiny flaw in timing could prove fatal. It was all Bethany's fault, her last minute change in plan could possibly ruin her chance for freedom for once and for all. So Heather ran, she ran faster than she'd ever run before. All the while clutching Bethany's black, fur trimmed coat in her hands.

"Spot are you sure?" I asked. "Brooklyn is-"

"Brooklyn was my everything but now I have you."

"Spot I can't let you do this."

"It's not your choice,"

"I'd only be gone for a year, and then I'd be back here, back in your arms."

Spot shook his head, "I don't wanna wait another minute. Please, Bethany, don't argue with me."

Slowly and unsurely I nodded, "Okay, but Spot…Brooklyn won't be Brooklyn without you."

"Well it'll have to be," He sighed.

"But what about the war? You can't just leave the newsies at a time like this, at a time where they need you."

"I'm the reason there was going to be a war, I don't think it'll cause any problems if I leave. Besides Romeo can handle anything they throw at him. Come one Bethany, we both know I couldn't have been a newsie my entire life. Eventually I'd have to get a real job, I might as well doing it where I can be with you." I smiled as he pressed his lips gently to mine.

Heather's heart pounded painfully in her chest. The cold air stung her eyes, forming tears that she could use to her advantage. Her hair whipped out behind her, making her look like a blur instead of a girl. Heather could run, for a highclass girl she could run very fast. And at that moment, getting to Mrs. Fullmer quickly was the most important thing.

"I'm not gonna lie," Spot said morbidly as we took our seats on the train, "I'm gonna miss Brooklyn, hell I'm gonna miss New York in general."

"We can come back and visit someday," I said, leaning against his chest. He smiled and wrapped an arm around me.

"That'd be nice. I'd like to come back in a few years and see how ol' Brooklyn's doing without the great Spot Conlon."

"You know, you're going to have to stop referring to yourself as that."

"Why?" He looked slightly put off.

"Because nobody in New Mexico is going to know who you are."

"Oh they'll know," He said confidently, "I'm the greatest newsie of all times, they'll know who I am." I laughed softly as the train began to move.

"HELP!" Heather screamed, bursting through the door of the Fullmer residence. "PLEASE! HELP!" Tears streamed down her face, and she cried out in anguish.

"What is it, my dear child?" Mrs. Fullmer asked running down the stairs.

"It's…Bethany…" She panted, clutching her chest.

"Where is she? What's happened?" Jonathan and the staff began to appear in the room.

"I tried…to stop her." Heather sobbed. "She…wouldn't…listen."

"Just tell me where my sister is." Jonathan yelled.

Heather held up a shaking hand and pushed Bethany's coat into his hands. "We were walking across the Brooklyn Bridge," She started, regaining some of her composure.

The color drained from Mrs. Fullmer's face, "She didn't run off to see those hoodlums again, did she?"

Heather stared at the woman before her in rage, "No, Mrs. Fullmer. You don't have to worry about your precious reputation." She spat. "Actually you never have to worry about Bethany again."

"Where's my sister?" Jonathan asked in a deadly tone.
"D-dead." She choked out, losing what little composure she had salvaged. "She jumped off the bridge."

The Brooklyn Bridge was alive that night. Police and a worried family stormed about the place trying to find any sign of the missing girl. The plan had worked and thanks to Heather's incredible acting skills, everyone had bought the story. Mrs. Fulmer cried and cried, clutching her son's shirt. Jonathan stood stone faced and silent, while Rupert paced back and forth, blaming himself for his fiancé's tragic end.

Heather was quiet, worn out from her day's work. Outside she played the part of distraught best friend, on the inside she smiled. Bethany had finally got what she wanted. She was free to do with her life as she pleased. And most of all, she could do it with Spot by her side.

"Spot?"

"Hmmm?"

"You've never told me your real name."

"Sean."

I smiled, "Sean Conlon…I like it." I snuggled in closer to Sean and closed my eyes, hoping to get a few hours rest before we reached our destination.

And thus so began my new life. A new life of freedom, a life that was mine. A life in the arms of Spot Conlon.

And so ends the saga of a poor little rich girl named Bethany Fullmer. Yup, yup. Now to show how much you love me for not abandoning this story, as I was going to, please review.