The Courtesan's Daughter
*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^This is the final part. It's pretty sad, so if you're in a good mood, don't read it! I'd hate to be responsible for bringing you down! Although I guess "Moulin Rouge" isn't much of a pick-me-up movie. Not after "Elephant Love Medley" anyway! ^^; I feel kind of bad writing this after reading the reviews (thanks so much, btw!), since everyone seems to think it's happy! Sorry! You all knew it had to send sad, right??? Enough of my random chattering, on with the show!*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
She's fourteen now, almost fifteen. Womanhood has claimed her body, curving it in all the right places. She's the exact picture of her mother, from her flawless skin to her flaming red hair. Except, her clear eyes are her own. Aimee cannot remember anyone, anyone at all with eyes like that, and she is sure she wouldn't have quickly forgotten then. Whoever, whatever random gene that passed them down as legacy is to remain a mystery.
She's fourteen and rebellious. She loves to dance and sing, tantalizing them with flirtatious looks and sultry song. Her mama used to beg her not to, but her mama is very sick now; and Satine must dance in her place. When they come looking for the legendary Aimee; they get her daughter for the night. But Aimee still pushes Satine out of the bedroom, switching places with her at the last moment. The false love is all she has strength for now. She can only do the forbidden dance, now.
But now it is unlikely she will ever dance again. There is blood on the sheets, and a light in her eyes that scares young Satine. The Count is waiting; a great patron he is and drunk enough that he may become angry. But Aimee cannot move, can do nothing but hold her daughter's hand. Her lips move, ever so slightly, and Satine puts her ear against them. "Sing for me, my precious.. my sparkling diamond." Satine smiles through her tears, pushes her hair behind her eyes and sings. Her voice is pure, clean and rings sadly. A more tragic song was never heard, nor ever one so hopeful. "One day we'll fly away."
Aimee's eyes grow wide, with love and longing and a gentle freedom that is carrying her away. Satine cries. Wait, mama, don't go, don't leave me! Satine wants to cry out, but she does not. Instead she hugs her mother tight, tight, and prayers to whoever is listening to let her stay another year, month, day, hour, minute, second. She whispers in her mother's ear, sweet encouragement's and promises of another life. She feels her mother slipping away.
"Mama!" She cries, and buries her head into the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, absinthe and strawberries. Mama rubs her back, soothes her.
"You have a beautiful voice, darling. Sing for mummy, sometimes, when you think of me." "No, mama, don't talk like that!" Aimee laughs, and then chokes on the blood creeping from her throat. "Don't.don't waste your talent, Satine! My.sparkling diamond! You'll go far, precious. I know you will.beautiful.lovely.Satine."
Aimee was gone. So was Satine. The soft, loving part of her fled to some hidden crevice of her mind, refusing to believe, refusing to feel the pain. She grips at the dead creature's hand, once, and then stands. She wipes the smeared mascara from her eyes, fans herself with a perfectly formed hand. Wipes the dust from her provocative gown, and runs to find the Count. He does not like to be kept waiting.
It was her innocence that fled up to heaven with Aimee, that night. The last of it. And in its place was left the Diamond: beautiful, lovely, but cold. A voice that touched everyone but was touched by no one. Loved by many, never loving. Never touched or loved or held or anything of real value. She was admired, applauded, put on display for those who paid the price. But, she was once just a girl, a courtesan's daughter.
*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^This is the final part. It's pretty sad, so if you're in a good mood, don't read it! I'd hate to be responsible for bringing you down! Although I guess "Moulin Rouge" isn't much of a pick-me-up movie. Not after "Elephant Love Medley" anyway! ^^; I feel kind of bad writing this after reading the reviews (thanks so much, btw!), since everyone seems to think it's happy! Sorry! You all knew it had to send sad, right??? Enough of my random chattering, on with the show!*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
She's fourteen now, almost fifteen. Womanhood has claimed her body, curving it in all the right places. She's the exact picture of her mother, from her flawless skin to her flaming red hair. Except, her clear eyes are her own. Aimee cannot remember anyone, anyone at all with eyes like that, and she is sure she wouldn't have quickly forgotten then. Whoever, whatever random gene that passed them down as legacy is to remain a mystery.
She's fourteen and rebellious. She loves to dance and sing, tantalizing them with flirtatious looks and sultry song. Her mama used to beg her not to, but her mama is very sick now; and Satine must dance in her place. When they come looking for the legendary Aimee; they get her daughter for the night. But Aimee still pushes Satine out of the bedroom, switching places with her at the last moment. The false love is all she has strength for now. She can only do the forbidden dance, now.
But now it is unlikely she will ever dance again. There is blood on the sheets, and a light in her eyes that scares young Satine. The Count is waiting; a great patron he is and drunk enough that he may become angry. But Aimee cannot move, can do nothing but hold her daughter's hand. Her lips move, ever so slightly, and Satine puts her ear against them. "Sing for me, my precious.. my sparkling diamond." Satine smiles through her tears, pushes her hair behind her eyes and sings. Her voice is pure, clean and rings sadly. A more tragic song was never heard, nor ever one so hopeful. "One day we'll fly away."
Aimee's eyes grow wide, with love and longing and a gentle freedom that is carrying her away. Satine cries. Wait, mama, don't go, don't leave me! Satine wants to cry out, but she does not. Instead she hugs her mother tight, tight, and prayers to whoever is listening to let her stay another year, month, day, hour, minute, second. She whispers in her mother's ear, sweet encouragement's and promises of another life. She feels her mother slipping away.
"Mama!" She cries, and buries her head into the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, absinthe and strawberries. Mama rubs her back, soothes her.
"You have a beautiful voice, darling. Sing for mummy, sometimes, when you think of me." "No, mama, don't talk like that!" Aimee laughs, and then chokes on the blood creeping from her throat. "Don't.don't waste your talent, Satine! My.sparkling diamond! You'll go far, precious. I know you will.beautiful.lovely.Satine."
Aimee was gone. So was Satine. The soft, loving part of her fled to some hidden crevice of her mind, refusing to believe, refusing to feel the pain. She grips at the dead creature's hand, once, and then stands. She wipes the smeared mascara from her eyes, fans herself with a perfectly formed hand. Wipes the dust from her provocative gown, and runs to find the Count. He does not like to be kept waiting.
It was her innocence that fled up to heaven with Aimee, that night. The last of it. And in its place was left the Diamond: beautiful, lovely, but cold. A voice that touched everyone but was touched by no one. Loved by many, never loving. Never touched or loved or held or anything of real value. She was admired, applauded, put on display for those who paid the price. But, she was once just a girl, a courtesan's daughter.