Disclaimer: The plot is mine, nothing else is. I make no money from this.
A/N: My first Moulin Rouge! fic…
WARNING: This piece of fiction has a relatively graphic scene of incestuous rape and child abuse. If this offends you, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. The author takes no responsibility for any emotional disturbance etc. caused by this work as you have been fairly warned of the content.
At ten, Sarah Jane MacDonald knew what to do when her father came home in a drunken rage. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way countless times before and so on this night she sat silently in her closet, the door shut tight and her hands covering her ears to drown out the angry voices from below. Last year she would have prayed, but now she knew her only hope was to be as quiet and as still as possible. She didn't believe in God anymore.
"Sarah Jaaannneeee…" her father called as he stumbled upstairs leaving his wife in a bloody, beaten mess on the floor below. "Come now Sadie…Daddy won't hurt you."
She knew it was a lie, a siren song meant to draw her out. She stayed still, hoping he wouldn't find her. The door to her room creaked open and her father walked in, she held her breath as he walked around, looking under the bed and behind the dresser. Sarah fought back a cough, letting out only the tiniest of squeaks but that was enough. Her father wrenched open the closet door, deaf to her cries as he threw her roughly on the bed.
"We're going to try something new tonight Sadie…" he crooned in her ear, pinning her down.
"NO! Daddy please NO!" Sarah squirmed but her tiny body was no match for his strength. One of his meaty hands restrained her arms over her head, while the other pushed up her nightgown and ripped off her underwear. Sarah screamed, earning her a sound smack to the head that left her seeing stars. He'd never done this before, he'd only ever used her as a punching bag yet instinctively she knew what was in store.
"Shut your little trap you brat!" her father scolded.
His free hand then moved to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. Sarah writhed in a vain attempt at escape, her head still swimming. Her father took one of her hands and forced her to stroke his penis. Tears were running down her cheeks and she clamped her eyes shut, willing it to be over.
"That's my girl," he moaned.
Sarah whimpered as he moved her hand away, dreading what was to come. He held her small hips still as he thrust hard into her. She screamed long and loud, but he didn't stop. He began pumping in and out of her, oblivious to her pleas. He came quickly, shuddering as he released inside her before passing out. Sarah slid out from beneath him and dressed quickly in her warmest clothes. She started down the stairs, prepared to run and never look back. It was her mother's brutally beaten body that made her pause,
"Bye Mama," she whispered as she slipped out the door.
Cold and alone Sarah walked the streets, not daring to rest for fear of being caught and returned home. Her head was down against the wind and snow so she walked headfirst into a woman and fell to the icy ground.
"Oh my darling I am so sorry!" the woman apologized, lifting Sarah to her feet. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Sarah told her and attempted to move away but the woman caught her by the arm.
"What is a child of your tender age doing out at this hour of the night? Most children are home snug in their beds by now."
"I have no home," Sarah answered coldly; wishing the woman would leave her alone.
"Oh my stars! That's just the most tragic thing! A beautiful little creature such as yourself won't last long on these streets; Montmartre is no place for a child. Come with me, darling."
"I'll be fine."
"Now child I insist, I can't very well just leave you out in the cold!" the woman urged.
"Please…just leave me alone."
"At least spend the night, dear child. It is much too cold for you to be out here alone." Sarah felt her resolve waver; the promise of a warm place to sleep wooed her into acceptance.
"No more than the night."
"Alright then; now that it's settled allow me to introduce myself. I am Marie Zidler. What is your name child?" Sarah hesitated unsure if she should give her real name to an utter stranger.
"Sadie." She replied after a moment's thought.
"Sadie? That's it? No last name?" the woman pressed.
"None that I care to remember."
"Fair enough I suppose, this way darling." Marie led the young girl through the doors of the Moulin Rouge. Sarah was dumbstruck by the ostentatious bordello-dancehall that sprawled before her. Scantily clad women paraded about the stage in front of a crowd of rowdy men all calling for attention. Sarah stopped and watched as the dancers spun and kicked drawing admiration and catcalls from the crowd. One of the women sashayed down into the crowd, situating herself on the lap of a man and grinding against him to the music.
"Oh no, my dear! Not for young eyes my child." Marie led Sarah away from the main room and up two flights of stairs. "Here you are! This will be your room for the night, there's soup on its way up if you'd like it."
"Thank you for your hospitality Madame Zidler."
"No trouble my darling, stay as long as you like! A pretty girl like you could do well at the Rouge." With that Marie left Sarah to her thoughts, hoping the girl would stay as she would be good for business.
Sunlight sparkled through the dusty windowpane of Sarah's room, waking her from a much needed slumber. A sharp rap on the door was followed by the bustling entrance of Marie Zidler.
"Good morning Sadie!" she greeted brightly, setting a tray on the bedside table. "Here's some breakfast for you darling, you're free to leave whenever you wish but first I must extend an offer to you. After a discussion with my husband Harold, the owner of the Moulin Rouge, I would like to ask you to stay here." A horrified look came over Sarah's face as she thought about the women from the previous night. "Oh no my dear child! Not as a dancer but as an assistant to them. You know; lacing corsets, shining boots, styling hair, that sort of thing."
"I…I'm not sure that I should stay Madame Zidler."
"Whoever he was, Sadie, he won't find you here. At the Rouge you ca be a ghost, hidden away from prying eyes." Sarah looked up in shock, how could this woman possibly know what had happened? "I've met more than you in the middle of the night in Montmartre dear child," Marie told her with a knowing wink.
"I suppose I could stay a while longer…" Sarah felt strangely at home, like Marie Zidler was a mother who truly cared for her.
"Perfect! Well that's settled then. There is one thing child, your name is not exactly suited to life at the Moulin Rouge. Would you be at all against perhaps 'adjusting' it slightly to make you fit in?"
"I suppose not…" Sarah answered, knowing the more different she was, the less likely her father would find her.
"Good, good." Marie Zidler circled her slowly, toying gently with an auburn tendril. "So soft…" she muttered, "like satin…That's it! You, my darling, from now on shall be known as Satine!" Sarah smiled, something about that name held a promise she'd never felt before.
A/N: R & R please! There will be one more chapter up relatively soon!