Post by Medda Larkson on Jul 20, 2010 17:17:53 GMT -5
Screaming. That’s all she could hear. Screaming, running, crying, sounds of pain, the cracking and collapsing of the charred building as everyone tried to put the fire out. But it was too late. It was gone, and so were the poor souls that got trapped inside. Looking around frantically she tried to spy the Newsies she had seen, but only a few had made it out. The thought made her choke on her sobs. This place had been a haven, a home, and warm place they could stay on a cold night and now for those unlucky few it was a grave sight. Tears flowed freely down her pale cheeks, her bright red hair messy, tangled, and covered in soot. Irving Hall was gone.
Medda sat up quickly in her hotel room bed. Tears ran down her cheeks from the nightmare. That’s all she had been having lately, that some nightmare, that same horrid dream. Wiping at her eyes she took a long steady breath to calm her nerves. Pushing the blankets of the bed off her legs she put her delicate feet on the hard wood floor of her room. She needed to take a walk, clear her head, and maybe just maybe she could sleep normally. She dressed quickly, pulled her red curls up on her head and slipped her shall over she shoulders. Her dress was plan. Something no one thought Medda would own or even wear; but she didn’t have the energy or the will to dress up. Lacing up her heels she quietly left her room and walked down the hall. This hall seemed to go on forever, soon she exited the hotel.
Standing on the stoop of the building she closed her eyes and let the warm summer breeze float over her and calm her nerves and fears. It was just a dream; she would go to Irving Hall and prove to herself that it was alright. Giving her head a small nod in confidence, the older woman quickly moved down the three steps and down the side walk on her way to Irving Hall, it was a fast trip since the hotel she was staying at was only a block away. She turned the corner to the Hall and gasped her hand flying to her lips as tears welled in her eyes again. It was true, and it really happened. Irving Hall had been burned to the ground. The bounce in her step vanished as she took the final steps towards the building. Her face had paled and she felt like she was about to pass out. She hated this. But she could remember everything as if she was watching it from an audience.
She was on stage performing her new song and dance. It seemed to be a huge hit; the roaring of the crowd was just as it was the night of the newsie rally. Before the police came that is. Irving Hall had been shut down for a few days after that little stunt but soon it was back up and running almost like it had never happened. Medda couldn’t be more proud of those brave boys; they had stood up for their rights and proved that they could beat a news paper giant like Pulitzer.
Smiling, she did a little turn and flung one of her hand to the side. Letting the fan she held in her hand sail through the air only to be caught by Toby the Candy Butcher, the nice gentle man that sold the sweets to everyone in the house. Glancing over her shoulder she winked at the crowd and as the music started to pick up she turned again to face the crowd and opened her mouth, taking a deep breath she let a few notes escape before they were interrupted by a loud cry.
“FIRE!” Someone had yelled.
That voice continued to echo through her mind. Shaking her head to rid herself of these memories she looked up at the blackened building, this wasn’t Irving Hall, she refused to believe this was her Irving Hall. But this was real; this was her home, her job, her life and it was ruined. “Who could have done this? Why would they do this?” She asked herself quickly as the tears started to fall from her eyes. Quietly she stood there, tears running down her cheeks, her body shaking. She had never felt this lost.
Medda sat up quickly in her hotel room bed. Tears ran down her cheeks from the nightmare. That’s all she had been having lately, that some nightmare, that same horrid dream. Wiping at her eyes she took a long steady breath to calm her nerves. Pushing the blankets of the bed off her legs she put her delicate feet on the hard wood floor of her room. She needed to take a walk, clear her head, and maybe just maybe she could sleep normally. She dressed quickly, pulled her red curls up on her head and slipped her shall over she shoulders. Her dress was plan. Something no one thought Medda would own or even wear; but she didn’t have the energy or the will to dress up. Lacing up her heels she quietly left her room and walked down the hall. This hall seemed to go on forever, soon she exited the hotel.
Standing on the stoop of the building she closed her eyes and let the warm summer breeze float over her and calm her nerves and fears. It was just a dream; she would go to Irving Hall and prove to herself that it was alright. Giving her head a small nod in confidence, the older woman quickly moved down the three steps and down the side walk on her way to Irving Hall, it was a fast trip since the hotel she was staying at was only a block away. She turned the corner to the Hall and gasped her hand flying to her lips as tears welled in her eyes again. It was true, and it really happened. Irving Hall had been burned to the ground. The bounce in her step vanished as she took the final steps towards the building. Her face had paled and she felt like she was about to pass out. She hated this. But she could remember everything as if she was watching it from an audience.
She was on stage performing her new song and dance. It seemed to be a huge hit; the roaring of the crowd was just as it was the night of the newsie rally. Before the police came that is. Irving Hall had been shut down for a few days after that little stunt but soon it was back up and running almost like it had never happened. Medda couldn’t be more proud of those brave boys; they had stood up for their rights and proved that they could beat a news paper giant like Pulitzer.
Smiling, she did a little turn and flung one of her hand to the side. Letting the fan she held in her hand sail through the air only to be caught by Toby the Candy Butcher, the nice gentle man that sold the sweets to everyone in the house. Glancing over her shoulder she winked at the crowd and as the music started to pick up she turned again to face the crowd and opened her mouth, taking a deep breath she let a few notes escape before they were interrupted by a loud cry.
“FIRE!” Someone had yelled.
That voice continued to echo through her mind. Shaking her head to rid herself of these memories she looked up at the blackened building, this wasn’t Irving Hall, she refused to believe this was her Irving Hall. But this was real; this was her home, her job, her life and it was ruined. “Who could have done this? Why would they do this?” She asked herself quickly as the tears started to fall from her eyes. Quietly she stood there, tears running down her cheeks, her body shaking. She had never felt this lost.
