Rain fell heavy on the cobblestone London street. The moon was covered by clouds and only a single dingy lamp was bobbing down the street. The lamp was clutched tightly in the hands of a young woman about fifteen, her other hand was holding her dress off the wet road, and also clutched a shawl which was wrapped around her head. Nearing her destination, she blew out her light so she could barely see, but then again, no one else could follow her.

It was then she fell. Tripping over a bundle on the ground she found herself against the cool, damp, brick.

"Bloody 'ell." She whispered, looking over what had upturned her, or more like, who, had upturned her.

In the street, with bright large eyes, was a young boy of about five years old. He was silent and unmoving, but his eyes watched her as she climbed to her feet. In the dark, she could still see his eyes.

"Mammy?" He spoke so unsure and lost, that she just had to crawl in the cold to go hug the boy to her chest.

"Sorry dea', ma' name's Nancy. Do you have a name lit'le one?" She spoke just above the rain, and she felt the boy nod.

"Jack Dawkins, Nan-cee."

"Do you have anywhe'e to go?" He shook his head.

"No mam."

"Anyone to look afte' you?" He shook his head again

"No mam. Daddy and Mammy left this mo'ning." Ah, Nancy thought, now we're getting somewhere.

"And whe'e did they go Jack?" He looked up at her with those eyes,

"Heaven." Not good, she thought,

"Well then Jack, I think I know a place whe'e you can stay fo' a while, would you like to come with me?"

"Why yes mam, I would."

"All right then. Let me just get you something to cover you up." She looked blindly around the street and spotted an old top hat under a parked carriage, she picked it up and placed it on his head,

"Ah, pe'fect fit." And the two walked quickly through the rain to Mr. Fagin's house, and that night as the rain fell, the pickpocket known as the Artful Dodger was born.

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I am auditioning for the Artful Dodger in an upcoming production of Oliver, so I thought, for inspiration, I would write this little ditty, and hey, you know what's even cooler then writing your first story? Getting reviews!

So all you awesome folks out there that thought about anything while reading this, go write it down, even if it was something like, I hate egg salad, I don't know about you but I was thinking that!

M. Merra