I curled up in the armchair in the sitting room, alone, early in the
morning. A handkerchief in one hand, 'A Story About Love' in the other. I
didn't need the book, I had read it so many times that the words were
memorized. And I had lived it. . .
It was a tugging reminder of who I was. No, this was about Satine. My name is Samantha. . . that story was just a book. I had lived in Paris for nearly all my life, and my husband died at sea with the Navy, and I moved here with my mother and my son. Or so I told everyone. . .
But this isn't me. When I wake up in the night, or even during the day, I find a tear down my cheek. And most of the time I don't even know why.
A knock at the door jerked my head up, and dabbed the handkerchief to my eyes, and went to the door.
"J-Jonathan," I stuttered, pulling my robe closer to me and leaning my head against the door. "What are you doing here so early?"
"I'm sorry. . . I knew the hour, but I couldn't help myself. . . I had to see you."
I moved away from the door, offering him in. "Come in."
He nodded and slid past me, hanging his coat and hat on the coat rack. He took a deep breath. "I couldn't sleep. And so I just ran over here."
"You look a little flushed. Would you like some water?"
"Oh. . . no, thank you. I'll be fine."
"Alright." I sat back down on the armchair and gathered my robe around me. How early was it? 5:00? "So. . . what are you doing here?"
"Do. . ." he started, than looked away. He took a deep breath in and then started again. "Have you thought about what I asked you before?"
My hands were shaking, and I looked at the ground. "I have."
"And?"
"I like you a lot. And Ewan loves you, and you've been so great to us ever since we came here. You are so sweet and thoughtful, and I know you would keep us safe and provide for us."
"Yes, I would." His eyes shone brightly and he reached out for my hand. "I would love and care for you both, forever."
I nodded. "And that's why. . . " A knot in my stomach hurting so much I started to cry. "That's why I will marry you, Jonathan."
For a moment he sat in shock, and then a smile crept over his face and he knelt to the floor and pushed a diamond ring onto my finger.
"Oh darling, I love you so. . ." he whispered, pushing his lips to mine.
My tears turned into sobs that were hard to hide away.
"Oh darling. . . I am so happy!" he exclaimed with a large smile.
"Me too," I sobbed.
An hour later, he left, and Ewan wondered into the room, rubbing his eyes.
"Darling, come here," I said.
I held my arms open and he walked into them. I held him to my tightly.
"I have a surprise for you. . ." I whispered into his ear.
"A surprise?" His ears perked up and he raised his head, a big grin on his face.
"Yes, Ewan."
"Is it Daddy?"
I bit my lip to help from bursting even more into tears. My chin quivered and I wiped away the fresh tears from my eyes with my hand. "No, darling. Daddy's gone. . . Daddy's dead, remember?"
"But can't I meet him first?"
I held him to my chest, rocking him back and forth. "Baby, your father is gone. He's dead. Dead people don't come back. . ."
I wanted him to understand - that things rarely work out the way you want them too, but I had grown up so fast, barely been a child at all. I needed him to believe there was some good left in the world.
"But Mummy, in that poem. . . Daddy wrote he'd always be with you. Come what may, he said he would-"
I put my finger to his mouth. "Shh. . ." I whispered, not able to say anything else. Looking into his eyes, I saw Christian, and filled me with a deadly hope.
"Deary, lets get you back to bed." Marie came into the room and took Ewan from my arms, carrying him back to his room. A few seconds later, and I followed.
"Oma, why doesn't Mummy talk about Daddy ever?" Ewan's voice said from behind the door. I stood with my back against the wall and listened.
"It hurts her, cherub. She loved your Daddy very much. It wasn't easy for her when. . . he died." Marie paused over the last words.
"Did you know him, Oma?"
"Yes, love I did."
"Can YOU tell me what he was like?" Ewan asked hopefully.
Marie stayed silent for a moment. "Alright. . ." there was another silence, and then finally she said, "Your Daddy was from a far away country called England. You know where England is?"
"Yes, Oma," he whispered.
"Alright. Well, your father moved to France from England, all alone. He didn't know anyone in France and he was penniless. He was very kind, and nice. . . a beautiful gift for writing and singing. And he loved your mother very much. He gave up everything to be with her." She sighed. "He tried to hide his feelings, but you could tell... whenever he looked at your mom. . . a smile just swept over his face and you could feel it in the depths of your soul what they felt for each other."
"What about me?"
"Darling, he never met you. He was. . . gone by the time you were born. But he would have just loved you. his heart was always giving and he always spoke what he felt. His eyes. . . they're exactly like yours - sparkling blue, shining with the truth of the world. The first time I met him, I thought he was an angel. . ."
"I did too. . ." I whispered from behind the door, wiping a tear away.
"The night your father met your mother. . . they weren't supposed to. There was another man your mother was supposed to meet. . . but your father got her first."
Ewan gasped. "How?"
"Well, he asked me where he could see Miss Sat-Samantha, and I told him where she lived. Now, I knew that he wasn't the man your Mummy was supposed to meet that night. But somehow I knew that the man was the one your Mummy was SUPPOSED to meet. Something told me that he was special. . . He wasn't like the others. . . and he would do a great deal of good to my daughter."
"Oma, what about. . ."
"Some other time, cherub. It's getting late."
He yawned. "But I'm not sleepy. . ."
"Of course you're not."
Marie closed the door behind her quietly and smiled up at me.
"I told Jonathan 'yes'," I said.
"I know."
"Ewan will have a father."
"He already has one." I turned away and started descending down stairs. "I know you don't like me saying this. . . but his father is still alive - you know that. Don't put you both through this any longer. . . just go back to him. Tell him the truth. . ."
"And tell him what? That I left him because. . . it was in my contract? I had fulfiled my duties, and I didn't know who was the father of my child? No, Marie. It would hurt us both. We can't begin again."
"He's close to death."
I paused, gripping the railing.
"Harold's been writing to me all this time. He says he shuts out the world, intoxicates himself on Absinthe. He says he's close to death - he hasn't been outside in years. The last time he saw him he thought it was a ghost, he was so pale."
I hid my tears that burned every time they started and walked on, heading back into the sitting room.
"Satine!" I froze, my heart stinging with the memory of every thing that happened to Satine. "The truth hurts. . . but it's the truth."
I shook my head. "It's too late," I whispered. "I lost it all. . ."
"If you want to just see him waste away to nothing, that's fine with me. But think of your son."
"I do. That's why I'm marring Jonathan." I fell into her arms and sobbed into her shoulder. "Marie, I love Christian. . . I love him, but it's too late. I've already lost him. . ."
I sighed, looking out the window of the train, seeing the steady rise and fall of mountains with white peaks. I was so far away from home. What I wouldn't give to be back in my garret. . .
I was fine with shutting out the world. Every thing was once bright and beautiful, and the sun each morning was a new one, but it suddenly lost all of it's meaning for me. The sun seemed to mock me instead, smiling on my broken heart and laughing at my tears. The world just didn't have a meaning for me without. . . her.
I sighed again, wondering why Harold just HAD to make a script out of my book as a surprise and sent it to his cousin in Germany. The money from the profits were enough to keep me barely alive. A drink of absinthe and my memories were all I needed to survive these days.
I missed her so much. I woke up from night sweats and tried to feel for her beside me. . . but she was gone. For six years I had wasted away, yearning for death to come over me. And I had been so close. . . but someone always stops me just before. I touched my arm, remembering the knife I had jabbed into my flesh, hoping it would all be over soon.
The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. Yes, those words were the truth. . . but I have learned. How wonderful life was when you were in the world, but it's hell when you're not. Can't I just die now and be with you?
People don't understand me, talking to myself, looking up at the sky and crying. Where ever she was, I felt my heart was with her. But when I lay flowers on her grave, I don't feel her. She is so strong with me everywhere, but I can't even feel her where she was, six feet under. . .
My head fell into my hands and I don't even fight with the tears. I felt lost, not knowing where she was. In Heaven? In Hell? My little angel, my little devil. . . where are you? Do my prayers affect you? Does my songs touch you, in extreme bliss or heat? Are you with me every step of the way? Every day, I feel so lonely. . .
"Satine," I whispered.
The man sitting across the isle from me glances my way, and quickly turns away when our eyes meet. He doesn't understand. No one understands this pain.
I turn back toward the beautiful scenery, but the image doesn't even touch my heart, which is not my own anymore. "And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now."
I don't care if the man across from me or the other passengers think I'm crazy. They've never been in love and lost it all. . . "And I don't want the world to see me, 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am. And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, or the moment of truth in your lies. And all I can taste is this moment. And all I can breathe is your life. 'Cause sooner or later it's over. . . I just don't want to miss you tonight. I just want you to know who I am. . . I just want you to know who I am. . . I just want you to know who I am."
A tear fell down my face, and I felt closer to my love as the train continued forward, to its destination in Germany. "Satine. . ." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Wow, I'm just pulling these out. . . I saw Star Wars ep. 2 today on a date with my sister. I'm so pathetic, I need to get a guy. . . but until then it's my sissy. ANYWAY, Ewan was excellent in it. Might I add that I saw 'Emma' last night finally after I finished the book, and Ewan's 'Nora' should be in movie stores by the end of the month. . .
SONGS USED: 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls
It was a tugging reminder of who I was. No, this was about Satine. My name is Samantha. . . that story was just a book. I had lived in Paris for nearly all my life, and my husband died at sea with the Navy, and I moved here with my mother and my son. Or so I told everyone. . .
But this isn't me. When I wake up in the night, or even during the day, I find a tear down my cheek. And most of the time I don't even know why.
A knock at the door jerked my head up, and dabbed the handkerchief to my eyes, and went to the door.
"J-Jonathan," I stuttered, pulling my robe closer to me and leaning my head against the door. "What are you doing here so early?"
"I'm sorry. . . I knew the hour, but I couldn't help myself. . . I had to see you."
I moved away from the door, offering him in. "Come in."
He nodded and slid past me, hanging his coat and hat on the coat rack. He took a deep breath. "I couldn't sleep. And so I just ran over here."
"You look a little flushed. Would you like some water?"
"Oh. . . no, thank you. I'll be fine."
"Alright." I sat back down on the armchair and gathered my robe around me. How early was it? 5:00? "So. . . what are you doing here?"
"Do. . ." he started, than looked away. He took a deep breath in and then started again. "Have you thought about what I asked you before?"
My hands were shaking, and I looked at the ground. "I have."
"And?"
"I like you a lot. And Ewan loves you, and you've been so great to us ever since we came here. You are so sweet and thoughtful, and I know you would keep us safe and provide for us."
"Yes, I would." His eyes shone brightly and he reached out for my hand. "I would love and care for you both, forever."
I nodded. "And that's why. . . " A knot in my stomach hurting so much I started to cry. "That's why I will marry you, Jonathan."
For a moment he sat in shock, and then a smile crept over his face and he knelt to the floor and pushed a diamond ring onto my finger.
"Oh darling, I love you so. . ." he whispered, pushing his lips to mine.
My tears turned into sobs that were hard to hide away.
"Oh darling. . . I am so happy!" he exclaimed with a large smile.
"Me too," I sobbed.
An hour later, he left, and Ewan wondered into the room, rubbing his eyes.
"Darling, come here," I said.
I held my arms open and he walked into them. I held him to my tightly.
"I have a surprise for you. . ." I whispered into his ear.
"A surprise?" His ears perked up and he raised his head, a big grin on his face.
"Yes, Ewan."
"Is it Daddy?"
I bit my lip to help from bursting even more into tears. My chin quivered and I wiped away the fresh tears from my eyes with my hand. "No, darling. Daddy's gone. . . Daddy's dead, remember?"
"But can't I meet him first?"
I held him to my chest, rocking him back and forth. "Baby, your father is gone. He's dead. Dead people don't come back. . ."
I wanted him to understand - that things rarely work out the way you want them too, but I had grown up so fast, barely been a child at all. I needed him to believe there was some good left in the world.
"But Mummy, in that poem. . . Daddy wrote he'd always be with you. Come what may, he said he would-"
I put my finger to his mouth. "Shh. . ." I whispered, not able to say anything else. Looking into his eyes, I saw Christian, and filled me with a deadly hope.
"Deary, lets get you back to bed." Marie came into the room and took Ewan from my arms, carrying him back to his room. A few seconds later, and I followed.
"Oma, why doesn't Mummy talk about Daddy ever?" Ewan's voice said from behind the door. I stood with my back against the wall and listened.
"It hurts her, cherub. She loved your Daddy very much. It wasn't easy for her when. . . he died." Marie paused over the last words.
"Did you know him, Oma?"
"Yes, love I did."
"Can YOU tell me what he was like?" Ewan asked hopefully.
Marie stayed silent for a moment. "Alright. . ." there was another silence, and then finally she said, "Your Daddy was from a far away country called England. You know where England is?"
"Yes, Oma," he whispered.
"Alright. Well, your father moved to France from England, all alone. He didn't know anyone in France and he was penniless. He was very kind, and nice. . . a beautiful gift for writing and singing. And he loved your mother very much. He gave up everything to be with her." She sighed. "He tried to hide his feelings, but you could tell... whenever he looked at your mom. . . a smile just swept over his face and you could feel it in the depths of your soul what they felt for each other."
"What about me?"
"Darling, he never met you. He was. . . gone by the time you were born. But he would have just loved you. his heart was always giving and he always spoke what he felt. His eyes. . . they're exactly like yours - sparkling blue, shining with the truth of the world. The first time I met him, I thought he was an angel. . ."
"I did too. . ." I whispered from behind the door, wiping a tear away.
"The night your father met your mother. . . they weren't supposed to. There was another man your mother was supposed to meet. . . but your father got her first."
Ewan gasped. "How?"
"Well, he asked me where he could see Miss Sat-Samantha, and I told him where she lived. Now, I knew that he wasn't the man your Mummy was supposed to meet that night. But somehow I knew that the man was the one your Mummy was SUPPOSED to meet. Something told me that he was special. . . He wasn't like the others. . . and he would do a great deal of good to my daughter."
"Oma, what about. . ."
"Some other time, cherub. It's getting late."
He yawned. "But I'm not sleepy. . ."
"Of course you're not."
Marie closed the door behind her quietly and smiled up at me.
"I told Jonathan 'yes'," I said.
"I know."
"Ewan will have a father."
"He already has one." I turned away and started descending down stairs. "I know you don't like me saying this. . . but his father is still alive - you know that. Don't put you both through this any longer. . . just go back to him. Tell him the truth. . ."
"And tell him what? That I left him because. . . it was in my contract? I had fulfiled my duties, and I didn't know who was the father of my child? No, Marie. It would hurt us both. We can't begin again."
"He's close to death."
I paused, gripping the railing.
"Harold's been writing to me all this time. He says he shuts out the world, intoxicates himself on Absinthe. He says he's close to death - he hasn't been outside in years. The last time he saw him he thought it was a ghost, he was so pale."
I hid my tears that burned every time they started and walked on, heading back into the sitting room.
"Satine!" I froze, my heart stinging with the memory of every thing that happened to Satine. "The truth hurts. . . but it's the truth."
I shook my head. "It's too late," I whispered. "I lost it all. . ."
"If you want to just see him waste away to nothing, that's fine with me. But think of your son."
"I do. That's why I'm marring Jonathan." I fell into her arms and sobbed into her shoulder. "Marie, I love Christian. . . I love him, but it's too late. I've already lost him. . ."
I sighed, looking out the window of the train, seeing the steady rise and fall of mountains with white peaks. I was so far away from home. What I wouldn't give to be back in my garret. . .
I was fine with shutting out the world. Every thing was once bright and beautiful, and the sun each morning was a new one, but it suddenly lost all of it's meaning for me. The sun seemed to mock me instead, smiling on my broken heart and laughing at my tears. The world just didn't have a meaning for me without. . . her.
I sighed again, wondering why Harold just HAD to make a script out of my book as a surprise and sent it to his cousin in Germany. The money from the profits were enough to keep me barely alive. A drink of absinthe and my memories were all I needed to survive these days.
I missed her so much. I woke up from night sweats and tried to feel for her beside me. . . but she was gone. For six years I had wasted away, yearning for death to come over me. And I had been so close. . . but someone always stops me just before. I touched my arm, remembering the knife I had jabbed into my flesh, hoping it would all be over soon.
The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. Yes, those words were the truth. . . but I have learned. How wonderful life was when you were in the world, but it's hell when you're not. Can't I just die now and be with you?
People don't understand me, talking to myself, looking up at the sky and crying. Where ever she was, I felt my heart was with her. But when I lay flowers on her grave, I don't feel her. She is so strong with me everywhere, but I can't even feel her where she was, six feet under. . .
My head fell into my hands and I don't even fight with the tears. I felt lost, not knowing where she was. In Heaven? In Hell? My little angel, my little devil. . . where are you? Do my prayers affect you? Does my songs touch you, in extreme bliss or heat? Are you with me every step of the way? Every day, I feel so lonely. . .
"Satine," I whispered.
The man sitting across the isle from me glances my way, and quickly turns away when our eyes meet. He doesn't understand. No one understands this pain.
I turn back toward the beautiful scenery, but the image doesn't even touch my heart, which is not my own anymore. "And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now."
I don't care if the man across from me or the other passengers think I'm crazy. They've never been in love and lost it all. . . "And I don't want the world to see me, 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am. And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, or the moment of truth in your lies. And all I can taste is this moment. And all I can breathe is your life. 'Cause sooner or later it's over. . . I just don't want to miss you tonight. I just want you to know who I am. . . I just want you to know who I am. . . I just want you to know who I am."
A tear fell down my face, and I felt closer to my love as the train continued forward, to its destination in Germany. "Satine. . ." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Wow, I'm just pulling these out. . . I saw Star Wars ep. 2 today on a date with my sister. I'm so pathetic, I need to get a guy. . . but until then it's my sissy. ANYWAY, Ewan was excellent in it. Might I add that I saw 'Emma' last night finally after I finished the book, and Ewan's 'Nora' should be in movie stores by the end of the month. . .
SONGS USED: 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls