Enjolras' Soliloquy
TheWriterToChangeThemAll
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Enjolras was not a dim man. He knew about cruelty in the world, but he would've never guessed - in all of his wildest fantasies - humans could be this cruel. He had known that soldiers and the guard had been trained to be ruthless and cunning, but these men seemed downright joyful to be killing them. All around him, men fell to the guard's training, screaming in agony for the pain to cease. Enjolras crossed himself and fled into the café.
As Enjolras stood by the window, looking out at the bloody and mangled corpses that were once his friends, he felt compelled to curse God. He cursed God with every fiber of his being, with every broken bone laying down on the pavement, every soul that was lost. How could someone as righteous and holy as He let all of these innocent men die? Enjolras had never been a very religious man, but seeing these men, his companions, dead made him wish he had been. He wished there was a deity he believed enough in to confess to, maybe even a holy image that would burst forth and allow him some peace of mind, but no envisagement of holiness came. For the first time in his life, Enjolras was truly alone.
As his anger grew, he cursed any deity that could hear him; anyone who would let this happen. Were they not trying to bring eventual peace to France? How could their 'all-seeing God' not understand that? As Enjolras heard men climbing the stairs, his faith in that God diminished with every thud their boots produced.
"So be it." Enjolras pulled out his glass rosary that had never found its way out of his breast pocket and crushed the damned thing under his boot. This was how the guards found him, stone faced and accepting of his inevitable death.
"Speak your repentance and you may die a quicker death." The guard's tone was nasty and made Enjolras want to cringe.
Enjolras opened his mouth to damn the guard, but then closed it and was silent. He gave the guard a small nod. The shot echoed in Enjolras' ears. It felt like the pain had begun before the shot was fired. The charismatic leader fell to his knees and reached for the shattered remains of his rosary. He brought the broken glass to his lips to kiss it, but fell forward before he got the chance. Enjolras was no more.
AN: So I saw a local high school's production of Les Mis, and saw Enjolras (who was sadly played by a girl) cross him(her)self. Before then, I never really thought about Enjolras' connection to God, so here is a bit of what might have transpired in his mind as he died without faith. Thanks for reading, and all feedback is appreciated!