A/N: Hey guys. So, I've recently gotten into the movie Sucker Punch. It's a great movie and I've recently fallen in love with it. Especially the character Blue Jones. Anyway, I stumbled upon this fic, mind you that I had to dig deep into my mind to reopen my knowledge of French, and I've fallen in love with the story and the character Elena. So, with KanaSucr3's permission, I've translated the story from French to English, so more people can see how great this story is. I'm sorry if it reads a little awkwardly. Okay, enjoy!

I do not own any rights to the movie or the plot line, Elena, or the story. I'm only acting as translator.

"Il est des êtres qui se révèlent dans la souffrance si émouvants et si beaux, qu'on peut à peine regretter de les rendre malheureux. "*

Etienne Rey

"La folie, c'est la mort avec des veines chaudes."*

Xavier Forneret

" On ne peut pas briser les personnes déjà mortes à l'intérieur. Même si l'extérieur nous fait penser le contraire."*

Carnage and a great mess.

The carnage would probably be very quickly answered in the newspapers, radio, and television. Such cases the media were fond of. They loved it. The public too. They would have testimonies, press conferences from the police, but no images. It would be too hard for people to see that. The officer, William O'Connell, who had seen a ton since he entered the police, was certain to have nightmares for weeks. He had been on crime scenes, he had already stopped criminals and greedy fools of Haemoglobin. But, when he came in the room, the place of the crime, he had to press his hand against his nose to avoid having to smell the smell of blood that hung in the air. It was everywhere, the blood. There was a huge puddle on the floor, in its center were the two bodies. Marks on the walls, from simple splash of blood and with hand prints of the victims who had probably tried to flee. How could simple gunshots make two people loose so much blood? O'Connell saw the world go round. But, his head was still there.

The head, actually, was the tremendous mess, according to O'Connell. She had not even lived twenty-five years, but she had been ageing considerably. Sitting in the living room, lots of police officers took turns questioning her. She answered placidly, as if she does not mind all of that, that nothing stood. Her clothes, a simple faded jeans, T-shirt, and jacket, were stained with blood. Her face was a macabre of makeup. Her hands were fine and certainly sweet and as red as the room upstairs. Beside her, the murder weapon was in a plastic bag. This girl was beautiful, despite everything. Despite the stains on her face, her clothes and hands. William O'Connell approached her and she smiled at him, one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. It was totally confusing him. He recognized her then, and it gave him enough focus to change her clothes, fix her hair and makeup a little better. It was not really his fault that his daughter was an undisputed fan of dance.

"So," he said to the officer in charge of the investigation. " It's not very complicated. Her fingerprints are on the weapon, she was on the scene, the blood on it belongs to victims, and she confessed it all." He said, " why did she do all of that?"

"If you want my opinion, she has completely lost the ball. This chick is insane."

"-I know." O'Connell cut in without realizing that his words could imply.

"Really?" the officer asked, squinting. "How?"

"Actually, I do not really know. But, I know who she is. Elena Pacchiano, I think. She is a professional dancer. My kid talks my ears off with her constantly. She is her idol, one of the best apparently."

" Well, you and Ben can tell your kid that her star will go to Lennox. Let's go."

English translation of quotes*

"There are people who turn out in pain when moving and so beautiful, we can hardly regret making them unhappy."

"The madness is death with hot veins."

"We can not break those already dead inside. Even if the outside makes us think otherwise."