FADING

A/nThis is my first fan fiction. I don't know how good it is but I am going to keep adding bits on. E-mail me with any suggestions/criticism/ praise. Thanks.

The first rays of morning sunlight crept fearfully into the dark, narrow alleyway, bathing everything in an eerie, pale shadow. Fanine sighed, wearily. The night had passed in hours of shame and deep disgrace and now she would return to her old empty room, where her days were spent sewing or knitting, to earn a few extra Sous. Or when the waking world seemed too unbearably horrifying, she'd sink into a sanctuary of sleep. Mostly her sleep was dreamless. Souls as worn and bitter as hers can seldom imagine another life. The only dream she'd ever have consisted simply of one small figure, sitting, clothed in a rich silk dress matching the bows in her soft blonde curls. The figure was crouched, playing with a beautiful porcelain doll. She was smiling, babbling away in inaudible child-speak. Fantine would awake with a wide smile on her lips. She may have lost everything, but this vision showed her why. And throughout the hard, demoralizing nights she's conjure this image, it was the only thing that kept the thin sliver of hope in her soul alive.

Now as she stood in the alley, 35 Sous clenched desperately in her hand, the obnoxious whistling of a nearby gentleman, whom she believed to be known as Bamatabois, had begun to infuriate her. He had been shouting various insults for a while, in a loud, detestable voice. His words –although understandable- tore through her hollowing heart like a knife; "Bald, toothless, hussy." These were harsh reminders of terrible losses. In her life only four things had made her truly happy. Her striking blonde tresses. Gone. Her radiant, dazzling smile, Gone. Her dignity. Gone forever. And most terrible of all, her divine, adoring daughter. Gone.

When Fantine could handle his insults no longer, like a slender alley cat she crept away, sneaking along the murky wall. Despite all attempts, she could not escape his prying, beady gaze.

"I like some fresh meat, in the morning. I'll give you ten Sous" The smell of stale brandy on his breath was so strong it made Fantine dizzy to merely stand near him.

"No monsieur," She had begun to shake with fatigue and apprehension. All she wanted was to crawl back to her hollow cave until the night reared its disgraceful head "Now, excuse me," she pushed past hurrying away, her thoughts concentrated on Cosette. 'Do not worry, Mon petit bébé. My body will feed you, my shame will clothe you, my soul will shelter you, Please do not fear for me. I am with you in mind and in heart, for my heart could be nowhere else.

Unexpectedly, Fantine felt something terrible and icy pierce between her bare, shivering shoulder blades and trickle down her back. Loud, wicked laughter rang through her ears. Her entire body trembled with rage. Like a tiger, she encircled this abhorrent being and leapt upon him, screaming, cursing, every ounce of her pent up hatred pouring out onto this man, She repeatedly dug her claws into his face, aware but not caring that she'd drawn blood. Her prey had been captured and she wanted him dead. A world of purity and innocence for Cosette could not exist whilst evil creatures such as him survived. Only when the rough hands of an observing drunkard pulled her away, did the terrible reality of her actions sink in. Turning around she saw Bamatabois clasping his face, blood seeping through his fingers.

"Police! Police!" He roared.

Police. They would never believe the words of a whore over the lies of a "respectable gentleman".

The brutal, unforgiving voice of a man, whose sheer name strikes fear in the heart of Montreuil-sur-Mer's citizens, could now be heard above the prattle of a newly gathered crowd. Even Bamatabois, who knew he'd soon succeed in getting yet another whore rotting in a jail cell, felt a slight shiver down his spine. Fantine tried to regain her composure, ready –hopelessly- to plead her case. But the second Inspector Javert grabbed her thin, icy arm she quivered in fear. Bamatabois jumped in first;

"Javert! Well it is plain to see what has happened," He cried "Look here, where she dug her talons into me, completely unprovoked! Well this is what I get for innocently walking through the streets,"

Fantine meekly shook her head and whimpered as Inspector Javert's vice-like grip tightened.

"Don't you worry Monsieur. She will pay for this hideous crime. Leave it to me. I will see that this despicable whore withering in a police cell,"

Bamatabois shot Fantine a smug and vile glare. In a voice so timid and rasping it was barley audible, she begged:

"I pray of you Monsieur. He could see I was not in full health yet still threw a snowball into my bare shoulders. Surely this was not needed. My heart is not completely concrete I felt every insult thrown at me as if it were a freshly sharpened blade. I know it was wrong of me to assault him as I did. But I cannot go to jail. My daughter is hanging onto survival by an ever-thinning thread. A prisoner's income will not pay for the necessary medicines. Ple-"

"Your pathetic begging won't safe you now. It is the proud duty of the law,"

"No! Please i…"

But Fantine knew it was useless. Her pleas had fallen onto deaf ears; She knew there was only one way to protect her daughter from death. Her love for Cosette far overwhelmed her respect for a law that had been so constantly cruel and unjust.

Without warning, she wriggled out of Javert's firm grasp and fled, running as fast as her gaunt, feeble legs would carry her. Javert and Bamatabois pursued her. Heart pounding, Fantine slipped into a side alley, praying they hadn't seen her. Relief consumed her as they rushed past. Coughing and gasping, she cowered into a wall leaning against it for every ounce of strength. A recognisable, fearful tightness spread through her chest. Breathing became impossible.

"I won't leave you Mon petit bébé, not again," She whispered, slumping to the ground in an unconscious bliss.

A/N To Be Continued…unless I get really bad reviews…