Disclaimer: Even though I wish I own it, I don't own Les Miserables.
Confusion. Everywhere, everyone was running, shouting, and falling. We were losing, but for once I didn't care. All I cared about was avenging Gavroche's death, to make as many soldiers pay as possible before I fell. The strange and almost scary thing was, I wanted to die. I, Courfeyrac (this was all I was called), wished to die. But not for France. Ever since Gavroche was laid to rest by the bastard that shot him, I was in a rage state. Gavroche, one of the happiest, cutest kids you would ever have saw. The fool kid; he should've let someone else gather the freaking ammunition! It broke my heart enough to see his face when dear Eponine died, and then God was cruel enough to take little Gavroche away from me. He was like the son I never had, and I was his father. After the revolution, and after I graduated from University, I was going to adopt him! Fate works in cruel ways...
Now a few of us are running towards the cafe, and I'm on auto-pilot. I don't feel, I don't think, I just do. We are upstairs now, though how I have no clue, and I hear solders below us. I look around at the men beside me. Enjrolas, Combefferre, and Feuilly. I think to myself, Are we really the last left? I can't believe it.
Suddenly I feel a burst of white-hot pain. A bullet, tracing the length of my spine. Before I fall, I lock eyes with Enjrolas. He understands, and turns away, holding the remnants of a red flag high. Soldiers burst through the door. I am detached, I feel no pain anymore. Lying on the floor, I feel my life ebbing away when Grantaire walks into the room. He stands beside Enjrolas, the man he loves. I had known a long time, but before now it didn't matter. The soldiers shoot and, as if in slow motion, Enjrolas and Grantaire fall. All I can do is stare.
A soldier notices me, notices that I am still alive. He walks over to me slowly, as if relishing the fact that I'll be his last kill. He raises his musket, and points it at my heart. I smile. I will finally be at peace with my brothers-in-arms. And Gavroche, the greatest brother of all. I will forever be with Gavroche, my eternal brother who I had become a father to. The soldier shoots, and my last thoughts die on my lips. Here I am, Gavroche.