Depressing Fantine stuff, the subject of which I am not the owner...

Fall

I need something to hold onto! I can feel myself falling. I don't want to fall! I need a support! My hands reach out for anything in front of me that I can take hold of. I'm afraid to fall! I can feel my fingers scrabbling for a handhold, for something, *something*...
'Scrabble'. It sounds like something a rat would do. Is that all I am, a rat? I do not appear as one, still I cannot help but think...*now*.... Oh well...all my frantic rat's scrabbling did me no good, for I have still fallen.
I tried. I tried very hard. But I have fallen.
I have lost this argument with myself. I cannot win. I would keep my honor, but now...now it's too late. I fell.
I will sell myself. After all...what good is a rat?
~Fantine