The End.
It was done. The room was no longer filled with the tapping of keys on paper, it was silent, silent as it had been before Christian had begun to write. He lifted his fingers off the keys. The wind fell into the sparse room for a moment, pushing aside an Absinthe bottle until it rolled under the bed. Christian, gaunt and haggard sat at his desk, waiting. Carefully, lovingly he lifted the last paper from the type writer and placed it onto the stack, watching with faded eyes as it settled and lay still. The silence was beginning to grow louder, it rattled him.
Christian looked out his window, the shattered remains of every mans fantasy loomed in the distance, broken and faded. Everything had faded after She.left.What was to happen now? Christian brushed a dark strand from his eye and tried to drown out the silence with more drink. He waited.
But waited for what? The sky didn't open, the rain didn't stop falling, and Christian was still alone. Anger fell onto his boyish features as he realized nothing had been promised. She had said, she had told him write their story, he did, he had done it, it was sitting right there, black and white. Christian had fulfilled what he had promised, then . why did he still feel like his heart no longer beat?
"I.I did what you asked" He said in a voice that was not used to speaking. He raised his head to the window and got to his feet, staggering to the glass. His legs gave silent protest at being used, they had rested all the while he had been writing, furiously typing what he knew, but he walked on. His hand touched the pane, it felt cold and unforgiving under his warm skin. But then again, once one had touched the face of an angel, could anything be as sweet?
"I did it," He repeated, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. His eyes, which had once been filled with the stars and glow of the ever youthful and eager, had dimmed, until they were no longer vibrantly blue, but a dull gray, scanned the rooftops as if searching for something. "Please." The voice was not that of Christian's, that had left him too. "Please, I need something, I need. I need you." Even as he said it Christian knew it meant nothing. What did he expect to happen? She was dead, she would never return. No fancy written line or clever rhyme of his could change that, he was useless.
"I did it." He said, bowing his head and feeling the tears etch themselves on his face. Satine. He turned from the window and grabbed the back of his chair, hurling it against the far wall. It crashed into splinters and punched a small hole through the wall, but Christian didn't notice. He let a bestial howl escape his throat as his arms lifted the side of his bed and tossed it as if it were a toy.
"I did what you asked!" He howled, throwing his own body against the wall, pain shot up his right side but he didn't feel it. No pain could ever match what he felt every second. "I DID IT! I DID WHAT YOU ASKED!" He backed away, his hands trembling from grief and sorrow and anger. He had done it, and he was still here. Why was it that she, Satine, the Sparkling Diamond should be able to leave, fly away, when he had to stay. It wasn't fair, he couldn't live without her, he shouldn't have to, without Satine there was no Christian.
Staggering backwards he fell against the glass of the closed window. His body shook with shattering sobs as he let himself drown in it. There was nothing left but pain now, nothing at all. But he couldn't stay still and let himself cry, he never could anymore, if he stayed in one place for too long, the memories would come again. It had already taken half of him by that book, now he ran from them. His footsteps thudded on the stairs as he almost fell down them, until he was on the street, standing in the rain.
"SATINE!" He yelled, throwing his head upwards, letting the rain come upon him, burning his face. "SATINE!" But who was he calling to? Christian fell to his knees, his thin shirt doing nothing to protect him from the biting cold or stinging rain. And in that moment he hated her, hated her for leaving him, to this misery, this wretched life that was nothing.
"Don't you see?" He almost moaned, too softly for anyone to hear "I'm not Christian, I can't be, there is no Christian without you." Memories of feelings past and new beginnings swept him. His began a low melody, a song he had sung not so long ago but it seemed forever. "Please, don't leave me this way." He sung, the words punctuated with gasps of pain "I can't survive without your sweet love, don't . leave me this way" He waited, his eyes closed. But there was no one to sing a melody with him, no one to join his voice and form a harmony that pleased the god's themselves.
It was true, he was alone, the Sparkling Diamond had left him, forever. Then why am I living? He asked himself, laughing a mirthless laugh. "I've done what you asked, I've written out. story, so why must I lead this pathetic existence?"
Christian cast around him until he spotted an object near his right hand. It shimmered in the dying moonlight. Glass. A large shard of it, probably left there by the looters, there had been much of them after Satine had died and the Moulin Rouge abandoned. Nothing here held the same shimmer after Her. He scooped up the sharp thing and help it, almost lovingly, to his right temple, feeling the tiny pain that crept through him as the tip slid easily into his skin.
After a moment he brought it down, a tiny speck of blood framing the tip. Yes, his life was nothing but pain now, why not end it with pain? At least then he ran the chance of finding her. A memory slipped past Christian's defenses and overwhelmed him, it was the one where the doctor had rushed to the aide of Satine's lifeless body, Christian had been pushed away while he looked at her, but he knew it full well. And when he stood up and looked at Christian, he knew. The people had left, leaving him and her alone.
Christian had pressed his face to hers, already so cold, and sung a song. Nothing special at all, just a fractured melody with words that would have probably made sense in another time. But he had looked at her, pale and beautiful, and Christian had said "I'll find you."
And he would. The shard of glass was his ticket, and it was one way. "I'll find you." He whispered to the night as the glass fell against the skin of his wrist. He began to slide it across his arm, tears of joy falling from his eyes, he could feel her all around him, she was there. Christian watched as the crimson flood fell from the glass, the cut still not nearly deep enough.
All of a sudden, the wind picked up heavily and danced through the trees, the rain stopped and the clouds parted from the moon. Christian looked up, a single tear rolling from his faded eye. And in the darkness that surrounded him, the fear and loathing and pain, he heard something, and perhaps he had imagined it, perhaps it was never there, but for a moment he was sure.
Suddenly the world . seems such a perfect place . suddenly it moves at such a perfect . pace .
It seemed to echo through the trees and buildings and broken fronts. It encircled Christian, and he felt it, like a wool over coat. At that moment the glass that had been still pressed against his skin shattered, falling harmlessly to the floor. He looked down, seeing blood from a shallow cut.
Slowly he stood up, gazing into the stars. "I will love you, come what may I will love you." He said, the pain in his hear almost bursting forth. He climbed the stairs to his room and stepped inside the door. He walked to his desk where the stack of papers still sat, untouched by neither wind nor rain. The last words still shone with new ink.
The end.
But that was wrong, wasn't it? It could never be the end, Christian was still here, She had left him, but he was still here. Deftly he moved down to the paper and smudged it out. He could never love again, he wasn't even sure if he could live through another day, but The End wasn't right, because She was still here, he could feel Her. And no matter how he felt, and how much the words ate at him, or the memories destroyed him, it would always be Her, until he died. Christian carefully sat on the floor. "You can't leave me, please, I need you, please, I love you" He begged, pleaded, but no one answered.
"I will love you, Satine, until my dying day."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I own nothing. well, I own the DVD but I don't think that counts. Please tell me what you think, I love comments, good and bad, I can't fix my writing if I don't know what's wrong.
It was done. The room was no longer filled with the tapping of keys on paper, it was silent, silent as it had been before Christian had begun to write. He lifted his fingers off the keys. The wind fell into the sparse room for a moment, pushing aside an Absinthe bottle until it rolled under the bed. Christian, gaunt and haggard sat at his desk, waiting. Carefully, lovingly he lifted the last paper from the type writer and placed it onto the stack, watching with faded eyes as it settled and lay still. The silence was beginning to grow louder, it rattled him.
Christian looked out his window, the shattered remains of every mans fantasy loomed in the distance, broken and faded. Everything had faded after She.left.What was to happen now? Christian brushed a dark strand from his eye and tried to drown out the silence with more drink. He waited.
But waited for what? The sky didn't open, the rain didn't stop falling, and Christian was still alone. Anger fell onto his boyish features as he realized nothing had been promised. She had said, she had told him write their story, he did, he had done it, it was sitting right there, black and white. Christian had fulfilled what he had promised, then . why did he still feel like his heart no longer beat?
"I.I did what you asked" He said in a voice that was not used to speaking. He raised his head to the window and got to his feet, staggering to the glass. His legs gave silent protest at being used, they had rested all the while he had been writing, furiously typing what he knew, but he walked on. His hand touched the pane, it felt cold and unforgiving under his warm skin. But then again, once one had touched the face of an angel, could anything be as sweet?
"I did it," He repeated, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. His eyes, which had once been filled with the stars and glow of the ever youthful and eager, had dimmed, until they were no longer vibrantly blue, but a dull gray, scanned the rooftops as if searching for something. "Please." The voice was not that of Christian's, that had left him too. "Please, I need something, I need. I need you." Even as he said it Christian knew it meant nothing. What did he expect to happen? She was dead, she would never return. No fancy written line or clever rhyme of his could change that, he was useless.
"I did it." He said, bowing his head and feeling the tears etch themselves on his face. Satine. He turned from the window and grabbed the back of his chair, hurling it against the far wall. It crashed into splinters and punched a small hole through the wall, but Christian didn't notice. He let a bestial howl escape his throat as his arms lifted the side of his bed and tossed it as if it were a toy.
"I did what you asked!" He howled, throwing his own body against the wall, pain shot up his right side but he didn't feel it. No pain could ever match what he felt every second. "I DID IT! I DID WHAT YOU ASKED!" He backed away, his hands trembling from grief and sorrow and anger. He had done it, and he was still here. Why was it that she, Satine, the Sparkling Diamond should be able to leave, fly away, when he had to stay. It wasn't fair, he couldn't live without her, he shouldn't have to, without Satine there was no Christian.
Staggering backwards he fell against the glass of the closed window. His body shook with shattering sobs as he let himself drown in it. There was nothing left but pain now, nothing at all. But he couldn't stay still and let himself cry, he never could anymore, if he stayed in one place for too long, the memories would come again. It had already taken half of him by that book, now he ran from them. His footsteps thudded on the stairs as he almost fell down them, until he was on the street, standing in the rain.
"SATINE!" He yelled, throwing his head upwards, letting the rain come upon him, burning his face. "SATINE!" But who was he calling to? Christian fell to his knees, his thin shirt doing nothing to protect him from the biting cold or stinging rain. And in that moment he hated her, hated her for leaving him, to this misery, this wretched life that was nothing.
"Don't you see?" He almost moaned, too softly for anyone to hear "I'm not Christian, I can't be, there is no Christian without you." Memories of feelings past and new beginnings swept him. His began a low melody, a song he had sung not so long ago but it seemed forever. "Please, don't leave me this way." He sung, the words punctuated with gasps of pain "I can't survive without your sweet love, don't . leave me this way" He waited, his eyes closed. But there was no one to sing a melody with him, no one to join his voice and form a harmony that pleased the god's themselves.
It was true, he was alone, the Sparkling Diamond had left him, forever. Then why am I living? He asked himself, laughing a mirthless laugh. "I've done what you asked, I've written out. story, so why must I lead this pathetic existence?"
Christian cast around him until he spotted an object near his right hand. It shimmered in the dying moonlight. Glass. A large shard of it, probably left there by the looters, there had been much of them after Satine had died and the Moulin Rouge abandoned. Nothing here held the same shimmer after Her. He scooped up the sharp thing and help it, almost lovingly, to his right temple, feeling the tiny pain that crept through him as the tip slid easily into his skin.
After a moment he brought it down, a tiny speck of blood framing the tip. Yes, his life was nothing but pain now, why not end it with pain? At least then he ran the chance of finding her. A memory slipped past Christian's defenses and overwhelmed him, it was the one where the doctor had rushed to the aide of Satine's lifeless body, Christian had been pushed away while he looked at her, but he knew it full well. And when he stood up and looked at Christian, he knew. The people had left, leaving him and her alone.
Christian had pressed his face to hers, already so cold, and sung a song. Nothing special at all, just a fractured melody with words that would have probably made sense in another time. But he had looked at her, pale and beautiful, and Christian had said "I'll find you."
And he would. The shard of glass was his ticket, and it was one way. "I'll find you." He whispered to the night as the glass fell against the skin of his wrist. He began to slide it across his arm, tears of joy falling from his eyes, he could feel her all around him, she was there. Christian watched as the crimson flood fell from the glass, the cut still not nearly deep enough.
All of a sudden, the wind picked up heavily and danced through the trees, the rain stopped and the clouds parted from the moon. Christian looked up, a single tear rolling from his faded eye. And in the darkness that surrounded him, the fear and loathing and pain, he heard something, and perhaps he had imagined it, perhaps it was never there, but for a moment he was sure.
Suddenly the world . seems such a perfect place . suddenly it moves at such a perfect . pace .
It seemed to echo through the trees and buildings and broken fronts. It encircled Christian, and he felt it, like a wool over coat. At that moment the glass that had been still pressed against his skin shattered, falling harmlessly to the floor. He looked down, seeing blood from a shallow cut.
Slowly he stood up, gazing into the stars. "I will love you, come what may I will love you." He said, the pain in his hear almost bursting forth. He climbed the stairs to his room and stepped inside the door. He walked to his desk where the stack of papers still sat, untouched by neither wind nor rain. The last words still shone with new ink.
The end.
But that was wrong, wasn't it? It could never be the end, Christian was still here, She had left him, but he was still here. Deftly he moved down to the paper and smudged it out. He could never love again, he wasn't even sure if he could live through another day, but The End wasn't right, because She was still here, he could feel Her. And no matter how he felt, and how much the words ate at him, or the memories destroyed him, it would always be Her, until he died. Christian carefully sat on the floor. "You can't leave me, please, I need you, please, I love you" He begged, pleaded, but no one answered.
"I will love you, Satine, until my dying day."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I own nothing. well, I own the DVD but I don't think that counts. Please tell me what you think, I love comments, good and bad, I can't fix my writing if I don't know what's wrong.