HIIII! So, this is my first Les Mis story so please don't be too harsh. Besides my OC, the story will focus in Les Amis (just fyi :D)
I do not own anything other than my OCs and the plot of the story, everything else was created by Victor Hugo.
Reviews are highly appreciated and flames will be used to bake cupcakes.
I never thought my life would end this way. I can feel my feet on fire as if they were about to fall off, my heart pounding heavily on my chest. It's getting harder to breath by the second; I know I won't be able to go much farther. But it won't matter. Nothing matters now, we will die. I know it, and the blonde who keeps pulling me through the streets knows it. People let us pass, they don't stop us, do we mean so much to them? But it doesn't matter, it isn't long before they cut us off, there is nowhere left to run. Nowhere to hide, we know we will die. They say your life flashes before your eyes when this one is coming to an end. This is something I had never believed in, until now.
My name is Mallorie, I am seventeen years old. I wasn't born in Paris, I was born in a town not to far away, but I can't remember the name. My mother's name was Alianor, I don't remember much about her, or at least I try not to. Most people say my life hasn't been easy, but hers wasn't much better, that's how I feel at least. Like all young ladies she had a lover, he was handsome, smart, kind... Or at least that's what she said. She loved him, and according to her he loved her, but I never believed her, not then, and definitely not now. He left her; he told her his parents wanted him to join the French army. He left her, she was pregnant, and she never told him.
Now you know where I come from, I am a poor bastard child, but that didn't have a mayor effect on my life. In fact only my mother, my father and I know. I'm not talking about my biological father, I mean the man I grew up it, I don't care all the men my mother -who I should mention was extremely beautiful- slept with, he was and will always be my father. I still remember how I felt when he disappeared, I was thirteen and my brother was five. We came back home from a day walking in the park about a year after my family moved to Paris and he was gone, like he had vanished into thin air. We lost everything, and I never understood why, all the people that used to look at us as higher beings now looked at us as equals, scum from the street. And soon we were.
I didn't have many reasons to smile after that, but my life still had little pieces of sunshine, it wasn't like for my mother. I never understood why she got sick, maybe it was all the cold nights or maybe it was just sadness. Either way, it wasn't long before life took her away from me with cold fingers. Now it was just my brother and me, but it wasn't much different, I was the one who brought the crumbs to the table since her illness overtook her. Finding a job wasn't easy, not as a girl, and even though I was nearly fifteen I knew I wouldn't sell myself. The solution to this problem was surprisingly easy, I sold most of my dresses, and my mother's and bought men's clothing. At home I was Mallorie but outside I was Alexandre. Work was easier to find then, food came to our floor more often, but my smile had almost completely vanished, and the only thing that could make it appear again was the little creature I was working so hard to feed.
He was happy, and if he was happy, I would be happy. We got used to our new life surprisingly fast, I had a new job, I would go work as a night messenger and I would come back to our tiny apartment in the morning. He would always try to wait up for me. I'd sleep a few hours and then I would take him out downtown, he liked to see the men that were fighting for our rights. I didn't understand them; I just thought they would all end up dead. But one day everything changed for me. It had been a cold night, colder than any I can remember; I came home waiting for him to run over to me, but no one did, he never did again. I wish he had told me he was sick, I guess he didn't want to put more pressure over my shoulders, but I wish he had. I miss my brother, more than anything, I owe him so much. Thanks to him I still believe that there is good in this wretched world, but he was taken from me. They took him from me. Thanks to him I met the man that made my life change its direction: Darcel Grantaire.
Yes, all Les Amis will have first names :)