I shouldn't be doing this. It's not normal. It's not right. A leader shouldn't think about killing himself. Shouldn't--

Maybe I'll turn control over to Rabbit. He deserves it. More than me.

I won't cry. Won't let myself. Haven't since…I don't even remember. Before I became a newsie, that's for sure.

I can't remember ever feeling this low before. This…hopeless.

My selling is worse than it's ever been. If I hadn't claimed the best spot I Brooklyn ages ago, I would've been awfully hungry these past few nights. But, by all rights, I should be hungry. I've barely eaten today. It doesn't matter, though. I don't want to.

Sitting here, staring out over the roofs of Brooklyn, I can barely feel the sting. If I don't look down, maybe I can forget. But when I do, I know there will a scar. Another.

I can't stop this. The thing is, no one else would stop me either. If one of my newsies saw me here, like this, they wouldn't do anything. And whose fault is that? Mine. I've given them such a respect of me, of my temper, my moods, my feelings- they wouldn't dare try to stop me. Except for maybe Rabbit. Which is why he can't find out.

Godamnit, why am I doing this to myself? My life has always been pretty fucked up, but I could always cope before. What's different now? What threw me over the edge?

The problem is, I know exactly what did it.