8Hoo, boy. *whistles*. This hasn't been updated in MONTHS! So sorry, guys. Thanks to all who still read it though :D! Good news for you, too: Chapter 5 is on the way. We'll get to meet one of Kate's closest friends in that chapter, so hang in there (please.)
~Raven
Chapter 4
A couple of hours later, I was back outside, this time because I wanted to explore Manhattan a little more, you know, the dark side. I know, totally EPIC of a rich girl to be doing ANYTHING like this at all.
Moving on from that (by the way, I was wearing the same outfit that I had worn the night before, no not the dress, the jacket, black top, and pants).
Now, you don't go to the dark side without taking necessary precautions. I had Excalibur, not the sword but a small four-pronged tool that was just as sharp (I know from personal experience), and the Octatool, a tool that can do 8 different things. I made both of these myself, so I know them inside and out.
Moving on, I decided to just take a look around when I ran into a wall that wasn't there a few seconds before. As you may have guessed, I wasn't too concerned until I looked up. After all, exploring a new area can be extremely confusing.
When I looked up, I saw a face. That face didn't look too friendly. Thank God I took precautions for this kind of thing, I thought.
"Hey dere, dollface. Mind comin wit me?" he asked in a slurred tone. Whoever drinks alcohol at noon, I will never know, but he obviously was drunk. I know drunk men like the back of my hand.
Immediately, I reached for Excalibur, but before I could get there, he grabbed me by the jacket.
"Ya know, youse could jus' come wit me and dis would be a lot easiah on youseself," he suggested.
"NO!" I yelled as loudly as possible, while getting Excalibur out of my coat. I liked the way the metal glinted threateningly at him. A few seconds later, I stabbed his hand with the sharp tool. Naturally, he fell back in pain. Only almost a moment later, I ran away immediately into another alley, but he followed. Lesson #1 of the streets: NEVER GO INTO DARK ALLEYS WITHOUT KNOWING WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE GOING.
Since I was clearly cornered, I took out Excalibur, but this time I threw it at the guy. Now that I could see his build better, he looked kind of thin, but was as strong as a brick wall. Shaking him off would be hard, but it could be done.
I saw the strange man put on a pair of brass knuckles (I've made a pair before, but being a bit forgetful, I forgot them), and charge. Big mistake. I threw Excalibur, but it missed by a long shot. I fumbled through my pockets, looking for the Octatool or anything useful.
The man was still running at me.
I have too many pockets in this coat!
The man was still running.
THERE! No, wait, not there. Shit.
The psycho was almost there…
As he got closer, I let him come close, and then tried to duck out of the way. This failed badly. He was able to grab me by the jacket and throw me against the wall.
It hurt a lot considering this is the first time I've ever been hurt anywhere besides the hands. I tenderly touched the back of my head to see if it was bleeding. Thank God, it wasn't, but another beating like that, and it would be bloody.
I decided that I had to stand up and be strong, for myself if no one else. After all, I didn't want to surrender to this…man if you could even call him that.
It was then that I realized I had lost my other weapon, the Octatool. This SUCKED. I had no other weapons, if you could call them that, on hand, my head was spinning like a top, and I was struggling to stand. Thankfully, the stranger was also having problems. The first time I had used Excalibur, I had stabbed him in the hand. He would be having a bit of a problem, but not as much as me, again.
Oh, God. What the hell was I going to do? I didn't know how to fight, I was a high society girl! You don't exactly expect us to know how to fight. As a last resort, I let out a loud shriek in case some nice person decided to help me. If this is how a damsel in distress feels in all those novels I read, I don't like being one.
Just as I was feeling absolutely hopeless, I saw a shadow coming closer. Then, I see a newsie running in the alley toward the crazy man. He easily tackles the man, and pins him to the floor.
"Needed some help, ah princess?" Of all people, I see one of the boys from a couple of nights ago. Oh wait, not just any of them, the one who got all pissed about me taking his bunk.
"Actually, I didn't. I had it all under control," As you know, I didn't, but I was trying to salvage the little pride I had left.
"I don't think so. You stabbed him in the hand when you should'a stabbed him in a moah…uh, sensitive area. Youse got a knife oah sumthin of the soaht. Why didn't youse use it moah effectively? Cleahly, you don't know what is otha people's, and youse don't know how ta fight either."
All right, all pride has just walked out the door.
"Fine. Since you're such a big shot, could you teach me?" I ask him.
"Are youse kidding me? You don't look like youse come from da lower class paht of 'Hattan. Are youse high class?"
I just nod, feeling terrible. I don't even know why, but something was telling me that getting on this guy's good side was a good idea.
"All right den. Looks like wese got a lotta woik on our hands. Don't worry, whatevah yoah reasons are, I'll make shoah youse are accepted in the union that is da newsies. Just so yah know, my name's Racetrack, but youse can call me Race."
"Thanks. In case you're wondering, I wanted to come the lower-class version of Manhattan because I'm getting engagement requests before my proper debut. I know you don't know what one is, but it feels like people are treating me like furniture being sold: trying to reserve it for themselves without thinking about anyone else. It's terrible, really."
Race was quiet for a while. I wondered if he was thinking about what it would feel like to be treated like property. Instead, he asked what was probably the stupidest question anyone has ever asked me:
"What's foiniture?"
Oh, boy. I think that we both have a lot to learn from each other.