Chapter 10
A/N – Once again, sorry for the delay. I will definitely be writing more once school gets out. Yay!
Disclaimer – Everything from Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann and everything else belongs to me.
A little girl sat in the corner of a room, trembling uncontrollably. Her tear stained face was full of terror and she had covered her ears with her small hands. The girl's dirty blonde hair had been mussed up from the two braids that fell down her back.
It was dark outside and the only light was from the small sliver of a room. All city life had subsided – everyone had gone inside.
Could no one hear the screams?
No one had heard the screams before, no matter how hard the little girl cried. She prayed for an angel once, this little girl; maybe it would stop the screams.
No angel came – Oh, how the little girl prayed! The screams continued and the little girl never prayed again.
Then, suddenly, the screams disappeared. The little girl raised her head and cocked her ear. She had heard silence before but this time- this time was different. There was silence for a moment before a shot sounded through her ears. The world stood still as the sound traveled through every inch of her body and she shivered.
The little girl slowly stood up, noticing everything was quiet again. She crept across the room and faced the door of her parent's room. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob. The door creaked loudly, echoing through the silence as she opened it.
She screamed silently as the sight of her mother on the blood stained bed. The woman's naked body was glowing in the moonlight and blood poured from between her legs, staining the white sheets. The blood on her legs and chest had turned black against her sickly white skin.
The little girl cried, although she had no tears left.
She slowly turned her head to face her father's body on the floor beside the bed. She knew what had happened even without seeing the rest of his body. There was a gun beside him and a pool of blood was collecting from behind his head.
She quickly looked back to her mother. The blood was still there. Dark, red blood. It was everywhere.
Rebecca never had liked the color red.
~
Rebecca woke up with a start, a cold sweat pouring down her forehead. She gasped, trying to catch her breath and clutched her sheets in a tight fist. Armand lifted his head lazily, and looked at Rebecca questioningly with his large, yellow orbs.
Her eyes had already adjusted to the meek light pouring in through the curtained window before she realized what time of day it must be. She stood up and walked sleepily over to the basin of water in the corner of the room. She washed her face but her skin was still cold and clammy.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs behind her door, causing Armand to jump up and hide under the bed. Rebecca reached for her robe hanging on a chair and wrapped it around her; her hands were still shaking.
There was a knock on the door and she opened it. There was Olivier, standing there as if he'd run the whole way. He was breathing hard and his eyes were wide with excitement. "Hello!"
"Good morning, Olivier!" Rebecca stepped to the side and he walked in.
"I was hoping you'd be awake." He leaned in shyly and kissed her. "What's wrong?" He clutched her cold, white hands and studied her face. "You're trembling and your hands are like ice!"
"Oh, it's nothing," Rebecca shrugged her shoulders as she turned around to shut the door. "I'm just fine."
Olivier took a bag of books off his shoulder and set it on the floor. "I was on my way to school and thought I'd come by and see you."
Rebecca grinned. "I'm not exactly on the way to school..."
Olivier shrugged helplessly and grinned. He then looked at her more seriously and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? You look sick – maybe you should stay in bed today."
Rebecca shook her head, biting her lip to keep from crying. She remembered her dream and all the blood... Oh God, the blood. She lost so much of her life that night. How has she made it?
Tears finally began to fall down her face and she clutched Olivier. Her legs began to weaken and he brought her over and sat her on the bed. "Olivier," she cried into his shoulder. "I haven't loved anyone the way I love you... I-I'm so afraid I'm going to lose you."
He kissed the top of her head and murmured, "You don't have to worry about that, darling, I'll always be here for you."
"It's not true..." she started to say.
"What's not true?" Olivier asked gently.
"About my parents," she took a deep shuddering breath and lifted her head to face Olivier. "My father was never in the war and my mother never died in an air raid. I-I don't know how to say –"
"If you can tell me," Olivier said. "I perfectly understand."
She shook her head. "No, I want to tell you... but I can't right now. Will you come this afternoon?
"Of course, darling," Olivier wrapped his arms around her waist and she allowed herself to be held. "I'll be here the moment school is over."
~
Rebecca decided to take Olivier's advice and lounge about all day, doing all the things she wanted to do. Once Olivier had left, she washed herself and put on her nicest dress. It was light blue with a lace collar, reaching just above her knees. Her cream colored jumper completed the outfit.
After counting up her money, she set out for breakfast. She always enjoyed sitting in an outdoors cafe, sipping tea, eating an expensive pastry and watching all the people live in their hectic lives.
She could remember doing this on Easter as a child. Her mother would save up all year for that day – just to buy a cup of tear for herself and a pastry for Rebecca. She would sit in the chair at the small table next to her mother, her legs swinging excitedly. She would pretend she was a princess, draped in diamonds and silk, sitting dutifully next to the queen, her mother. Smiling, her mother would play along and sip her tea with her pinky sticking out while wearing a crown of daises made by Princess Rebecca.
Even when the tea and dessert were long gone they would sit there at the table for hours. Neither of them wanted to go home, knowing father would be home later that evening.
Rebecca shook her head, as if to shake the memory out of her head forever.
~
Rebecca shifted uncomfortably at a bench at Olivier's school. She got odd glances from people entering and leaving the building. Wasn't she supposed to be in school?
She got up and slowly walked over to a clearing in the lawn, beneath a tree. Dandelions littered the area, like stars in the sky.
Suddenly the doors to the school opened and little boys and girls poured out running every which way. Eventually, the sea of children became older. Girls her age were walking together in their skirts and stylish jumpers.
Rebecca stood up and straightened her jumper. She yearned to be one of them, clutching textbooks to her chest, talking endlessly with best friends. Rebecca watched the girls walk past her as if she were a shadow. She tried to picture herself as one of them. Then suddenly – "Do you go here?"
Rebecca jerked her head to the side and a girl, near her age was standing next to her with a questioning look on her face. Her yellow hair curled limply around her face and her light blue eyes sparkled.
"Um, no. No, I don't," Rebecca stuttered.
"Really?" the girl said. "You seem familiar. Do you go to one of the other schools then?"
Rebecca's face flushed crimson and she shook her head. "No, I don't."
The girl looked puzzled.
"My parent's passed away when I was young and I can't afford it..." The words were out of Rebecca's mouth before she could think. But the girls' blue eyes softened and for some reason, she didn't doubt for a second why she trusted her.
"Rebecca!"
She looked up to see Olivier running across the lawn of the school over to where she was standing with the girl. "Hello, Olivier!"
He looked between Rebecca and her new acquaintance with surprise. "Violet?" Olivier looked at the blue-eyes girl then back Rebecca. "Meet Rebecca, my, um, friend. Rebecca, this is Violet."
Violet's eyes twinkled as they shook hands. "Nice to meet you, Rebecca... Olivier's friend."
Both Rebecca and Olivier blushed. "And you," she replied.
"Well, I have to be going now," Violet said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Olivier. Good-bye, Rebecca."
Rebecca and Olivier said good-bye and began to walk down the main road past the school. "So," Rebecca said slyly. "I'm your... friend?"
Olivier blushed. "Well, Violet is a good friend of mine – it was just embarrassing."
"So you're ashamed to have a girlfriend?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "No, not at all!" He stopped walking and turned to Rebecca with a concerned look in his eyes.
"Olivier, don't be so serious!" Rebecca gasped. "I'm perfectly alright!"
He looked quite relieved and kissed her forehead. She rolled her eyes but grinned and kept on walking down the road with Olivier's arm linked in hers.
"I'm glad to see you're feeling well," Olivier commented.
"Yes," she said. "I am, thank you." She took a deep breath. "And I'm going to tell you about my parents right now before I get too emotional. My father had a drinking problem. He would force my mother to have sex with him at least twice a week but for some reason, she never left. It was an arranged marriage, so I suppose she was afraid of his family. All this would go on and I would be in the room next to theirs. One night, my father came home, drunk as usual, and told my mother to meet him in the room. She kissed me before going to him. The screams went on for longer this time and then there was a moment of complete silence. I went into their room... My mother was dead and so was my father. He was lying on the floor with a gunshot wound to his head."
Neither of them said anything for a long time. Olivier clutched her hand as they kept walking. He thought it was just best not to say anything right now. They began to make their way to the wealthier side of town. Rows and rows of houses lined the streets and there were benches that were placed before every other house. Rebecca and Olivier sat down at one of the benches. They watched as an old, withering away husband and wife walk out of their house and into a carriage. Through the window they could see the couple kiss each other before the horse took them away down the street.
Olivier put his arm around Rebecca's shoulder, leaned in closer to her and whispered, "That's going to be us someday, darling. Two hundred years old and still madly in love."
