TITLE: Strange Saviour
AUTHOR: Pedellea
E-MAIL: pedellea@hotmail.com
DATE: March 16, 2003
RATING: G
SUMMARY: An ordinary girl unwittingly helps Christian to live on.
DISCLAIMER: Moulin Rouge belongs to the brilliant Baz Luhrmann who directed this awesome film, and to 20th Century Fox.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here is my take on how Christian deals with the aftermath of Satine's death, but in a spin, it takes place quite a few years after the fact. This is my first Moulin Rouge fic. Hope you enjoy. Feedback is more than welcome!
STRANGE SAVIOUR
By Pedellea
England, 1929
~A Shop Girl~
Ever since I moved here with my family, he has never missed a beat.
You see, there's an old man who comes by our corner store each and every day. He always casts a sad look at me, as if he knew me from ages past. The sadness in his eyes would lessen a little with the brief smile that always appears as he pays for the paper that he buys each day.
Whatever he saw in a red haired, pale skinned girl behind the counter was beyond me. My mother always says that I'm beautiful, and that I should become an actress, but I've got more simple dreams. Once, I thought I would want to become a famous starlet to light up the stages of London, but dreams change. To settle down with the one I love is all I ask for, and although I'm still searching, there's no hurry.
I remember the first time he stepped inside our store. He came in and for a moment, he stood on the spot staring at me, almost dumbfounded at what he saw. I was scared of what he would do next, but he turned and headed right back out. I was surprised to see him back the next day, but he acted in no rash way, just paid for his paper and left. That's been his routine ever since.
Maybe I remind that old man of a long lost love he used to have. You need to be careful of strangers nowadays, but this old man, he's benevolent. There's gentleness evident in his eyes, gentleness you often don't see in people anymore. So each day, I allow him to cast his glances at me and smile at me, if it means that I can cheer his lonely heart.
I've wondered why he's never asked for my name. It's not like he's a strange face to our store and our family anymore. Sometimes I want to ask for his name, but my rationale keeps me quiet and I manage only a "thank you" when I give him his change. He nods at me with his smile, and with a brief flash of remembrance of the happier days past in his blue-green eyes, the daily encounter ends.
I've seen him on the street a couple of times. It's not like our town is a large place. He always walks with his head down as if to avoid all contact with people, but always at a slow pace. Maybe it's his age, but I think he ambles about, lost in the world and wanting to leave it. You'd think a well dressed man should have a home where he can see his loved ones, but from his actions, it seems he never settled down to a family life. How tragic. He would have probably made a good husband.
His life story would probably be pretty interesting, and how I wished he would talk to me. But I will let him be, let him dream his dreams, and pray that he will return again tomorrow.
~Christian~
I was going to end my life, but she saved me.
For years since Moulin Rouge, I've toiled away purposely, yet clinging to the promise I made to Satine to go on for the both of us. After she had died and after our story had been written, I moved to a small town in England to escape the mysery I lived in. I dared not to return to my father, but instead made a living by writing short stories and poems about truth, beauty, freedom, and above all, love.
The empty feeling never subsided, though. At first I didn't ever want to let Satine go. How could I? She was my first true love, and my only love. But after ten years of dreaming of a life that I could not possibly have, I tried to give up. I thought I could let go, start afresh. But I had already given all my love to one woman - it wasn't possible to give my all to another when I had nothing left to give. So I floated in life, doing enough to get myself by, but always wanting to leave the earth and join my precious Sparkling Diamond.
What was life without Satine? The question pressed my mind from the time I woke up in the morning to the time I laid my head on the pillow at the close of the day. It never ceased. It drove me nearly insane.
I prayed to God every day for him to take my life. There was no reason to live anymore. In fact, I died the day Satine did. It's just that my physical body was left here, with my soul trapped inside.
I don't know why God didn't grant my desperate wish, and so, on one not so special day, I decided to take my own life. I don't know what took me so long to decide this - I guess I had been too scared. But I was determined to struggle through the last day of my life, then end it at nightfall.
Then, on my way to a daily ritual, I saw her. It couldn't have been Satine, but the complexion, the hair... in my mind, it was her. I stared at the girl for what seemed to be an eternity, taking in her flawless features, remembering my every memory of her. She was dead, but there she was, standing right there in front of me. The shout of a child's voice woke me from my reverie, and not knowing how else to react, I left the store quickly.
My mind must have been elsewhere because that was not the store I would have normally gone into to buy my daily paper. It was as if God had finally heard my desperate pleas and placed Satine back on earth for me, and gave me a nudge her way. My brain screams the fact that I had held Satine as she breathed her last breath, but the imagination has always been the stronger of the two within me. That night, I didn't end my life, but I spent a sleepless night pondering what this had all meant, if it meant anything at all.
It's a ridiculous ritual, but I can't help but see my young Satine each and every day. She must be curious as to why an old man would pay a daily visit. By now, she must suspect that it's not just to buy a paper from the way I always look at her. The memories of Satine, the Bohemians, and the Moulin Rouge always flow to me when I see her, and for a moment, I feel happy again. Although the feeling was always ripped away, there was now a reason to live again.
It's you, my young Satine, who saved my life. Now, you help me wake up in the morning. I'm glad you've never given me your name for I'd rather believe you are Satine and live in this fantasy from the past that only you were able to revive. It's rather sad, but this old man hasn't much time left on earth, and all I desire now is this one pleasure.
As for you, my dear Satine, you are never far from my mind. I see you in my mind's eye, ever beautiful, ever loving. I truly believe you sent me this strange saviour to keep me going, until the day we meet again. For that, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.
But, dearest Satine, although you've given me the young one to infuse me with a purpose to live again, I have one request. As I lay my head down to sleep tonight, will you take me by the hand and lead me to the place where you are? It's you I love, and where you are, there I also want to be.
THE END
This has been a really interesting piece to write. I hope you found it equally interesting to read.
Feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks!