AN: New, don't own any of the characters from the book, play or film. Don't own the Opera Populair and do not own the original story.
I do own my characters, places and plotlines.
Reviews gratefully accepted.
Unforgiven
Prologue
The dark takes over me as I stumble forward then finally on to my knees. It is raining, a cold, driving rain, and, as I try to push myself to my feet, my hands sink deep into the muddy earth. I pull them back out, hold them out in front of my face and stare at them. Clumps of wet dirt slide down my long fingers and I feel a shiver crawl down my spine. There's a taste of vomit on my tongue and I spit to try to free my mouth, it is no use.
I feel my stomach roll, I cough and struggle to my feet, legs slightly bowed out as I try to regain my sense of balance. My usually perfect sense of balance. I feel weak, my legs tremble from the weight of my body but I fight against it and manage, somehow, to stay upright. Catching my breath I know that I must keep moving, I know that I must find her, I know that if I don't then my life will be over.
My chest is hurting as I begin to move forward again. It pulls tight and I try to decide if it is the cold air hurting my lungs or if it is really my breaking heart. I shake my head, shake myself back into sanity. There is no time for me to think about this, there is no time for me at all, I must keep moving.
Forging on, I push against the wind, it tears at my body and rips the jacket from my back. One look over my shoulder and the jacket is gone with the wind, it's black merging with the dark night. I don't doubt myself though, even as I tussle with the powerful gusts, for I know that it is this way. I know I am going the right way because I overheard them, I heard what they said. She is this way and therefore this is the way I must go.
A thud hits me as a branch falls down and knocks me back to the ground. I reel from the pain shooting through my back, I lie there for a moment, scared that I am wasting precious time. Time. There is no time. I force myself back to my feet, feel the all too familiar quiver in my knees as I balance myself again. My head spins, I feel dizzy, I am stumbling forward and reaching out. What I feel beneath my hands is rough and hard, I blink against the rain, trying to focus my eyes.
Although I know what it is my mind seems incapable of registering it, of speaking to my hands. I shake my head again, desperately trying to regain some form of composure. I turn and lean against the trunk, look out at the battered landscape surrounding me. It is February in France and I know that I am lucky it is not snowing but I don't feel lucky.
I feel desperate.
I am not lost though, I grab my bearings and begin to run again. The wind pushes hard against me but I battle back, hunching myself over and taking the brunt of the gales with the bulk of my body. I know I must run, I know I must keep going but I am tired and cold, I fear I am almost done with the mortal world.
These thoughts shock me into moving on, into fighting against the ripping pains in my chest. I am combating the stodgy feeling pulling my legs down, I am working hard to forget the pain in my back. I feel the blood seeping through my shirt, it is the only warm part of me.
Who would have thought that my blood would be warm?
I wretch again, my body lurches forward but somehow I stay on my feet, unsteady as they are, and continue to run. I will not deny the pain I feel as I yell out into the vast blackness. I know that no one hears me, although I know that they follow me.
My head it like wool, my brain is not behaving the way it should, it is not doing what it usually does, it is not helping me, not freeing me, not giving me the aid I need to get through. I see a small light in the distance and run for it. I must be nearly there, it must be here somewhere. Dropping to my knees again I let a gush of air out of my lungs, I can barely hold myself up straight anymore. There is no energy left. I can see the light, I know my hand is reaching out for it but I can not move.
I try to call for help, something I have never done before, but the words stay in my mouth. I can hardly part my lips without pain shooting through my veins, it is the worst feeling. I fall forward, I am lying on my front staring ahead. I am too weak to even move my arms so how can I possibly stand? I am letting her down, I am letting her down again.
I try again, but my arms simply twitch and I feel vomit rise into my throat again. No, no... I squeeze my eyes shut, close my mouth... no.
When I find the power to open my eyes again I realise that the light is moving. The light I had seen, the one ahead, is moving towards me slowly. I feel no fear, I rarely do, but I feel some anxiety as I watch the light move closer. It flickers, I think it must be a lantern.
Are they friend or foe, I wonder? There is always more chance, with me, that it is foe.
At least I escaped, I think as I lie alone in the rain, with wind and mud surrounding me, at least I did that much for her.
It was hard to get this far, it was difficult to get away. They drugged me to stop me from running, I know this, but they did not expect my body to be as strong as it is. It is strong, right now it might not look it, but my body is strong. It has become strong from years of pain and torture. It has become strong from the days spent alone, from nights bathing in cold water.
My body is strong and it is their mistake to underestimate me.