Cosette wandered through the garden which surrounded the house at 55 Rue Plumet. She stared longingly at the seemingly permanently locked gate which enclosed it. It was hard for her to understand why her father didn't let her out alone, she felt like some sort of child or animal that couldn't be trusted. Cosette knew practically nothing about her father's past, and she was sure that he had no intention of telling her the truth anytime soon. The times that she had asked about it were extremely awkward. She felt as though she was irritating him; a notion that she loathed. Nevertheless, Cosette wasn't prepared to live her life in the dark, without knowing anything and without a soul to talk to other than her father. She had too many questions that she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answers of.
"Good morning, Cosette" Valjean stated loudly, interrupting her train of thought.
"Good morning, Papa" she replied, almost instantly with an obviously solemn tone in her voice. "May I ask you a question?" Cosette continued, hesitantly looking up at him.
"Of course, you may" responded Valjean courteously, dreading the question that he knew she would bound to ask.
"Could you please tell me of the past years? I believe that I do have a right to know." Cosette questioned, beginning to regret her words almost as soon as they were spoken.
Valjean had expected this. The only questions Cosette tended to ask were to do with his past, which he knew that he couldn't tell her about for her own sake. No one would ever want to hear that their father - biological or otherwise - was a thief at one time. He couldn't help but be overwhelmed with a well known sense of guilt that he most certainly couldn't deny. If he could tell her without scaring her, and giving her a permanent view of him as a thief, he would have told her years before. Val Jean had sworn himself to secrecy; it was far too dangerous for anyone to be finding out, especially when Javert was practically everywhere.
"Cosette! We have had the conversation many times before! You will learn the truth on your own eventually. The truth is given to us all in our time" he explained sternly, in an almost shouting tone of voice, making him sound rather angry though he definitely wasn't. Valjean could understand Cosette's constant anticipation and longing to know the truth, but he just couldn't tell her nor anyone else.
"…but Papa!" Cosette protested in what was almost a shouting tone of voice, before silencing herself before she could speak anymore. She hung her head, looking down at her hands without saying another word. She felt a slight lump in her throat gather, as she held back tears.
"Cosette dear, lets pretend this conversation never happened" Valjean concluded firmly, after a long moment of silence before briskly walking away from her with a genuinely somber expression covering his face.
As he walked, he thought to himself…
I don't enjoy being her jailor,
I don't relish telling her no,
But then I think - what if I fail her?
How can I just let her go?
I strive to be a good preacher,
I try not to go overboard,
But then I think - if I can't reach her;
How can I face my Lord?
Back in the garden, Cosette sat on the stone bench, staring down at the colorful flowers with covered the grass, feeling rather sorry for herself. She just wished to know the truth about herself, as well as her father. She literally couldn't believe it. Her father had never shouted at her without a fair reason. The excuses were getting old, and she most definitely couldn't take being lied to anymore. Cosette was many things, but she wasn't an idiot. Cosette simply wanted to know the truth, nothing more.
She thought to herself….
Swallowing my words,
Staring at the floor,
Counting little cracks in the tile,
Struggling to smile without choking,
Learning to be silent.
Learning there are some topics that we don't even mention,
And if they come up we must try to be vague,
There are subjects from which was divert all attention,
Some we avoid like the plague.
Right, what did you guys think? Should I continue or leave it as a one-shot? Any constructive criticism? By the way, I own nothing. I didn't write the wee songs that are thrown in their either; they're from 'Footloose' the musical.
Please review; it only takes a minute and it makes a writers day :)
R&R
