I run.
I seek.
I hide.
I tried to push and swim my way out of the beautiful people, the music, and the roses.
I hurried to Marius.
"Take me home, Marius."
"Already? The party hasn't ended yet."
There must've been certain anger and forcefulness in my voice when I told him to take me home again. My friend obeyed.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Everything felt dry. My sheets smelled old and so did my nightdress. I felt like it was one of those nights when you feel like the wall in between you and sleep was a curse. A curse had blocked it.
I remained so still and curled up like a fetus, wrapped in my sheets. I had been in bed all morning. The maid had knocked twice on my door. Greta was probably worried, thinking I was dead. But I locked the door.
I was still not moving and I could hardly feel myself breathing. I opened my eyes a bit but the view was blurry because of my dead tears. Maybe I had a fever.
I heard familiar voices outside my room. At first because of my somewhat 'trance' I couldn't decipher the voices.
"Greta, let me in."
"I would love to go in as well to check on her but the door's locked.'
"Do you have the key?"
"Yes, I almost forgot I had it somewhere."
"Go get it, quickly."
"What if she's just sleeping? We shouldn't disturb her."
"Greta, for all you know my friend could be dead!"
"Don't say that, Mr. Marius. Don't say that!"
"Just please, go get the key."
"Yes."
A few moments later I could hear my door open. Someone checked my pulse. I was more asleep this time so the words were but buzzing sounds to me. Maybe they were not understandable because I didn't want to hear them.
At first I tried to say it in a strong, middle tone but my voice was so lost I barely whispered. "Get out. . ."
Marius climbed into my bed and held me.
"I know you don't want to hear me talk. I know you don't want to hear anyone talk but I want to comfort you. Let me hold you."
I wanted to be alone.
"'Ponine, what broke your heart?"
"How do you know? Do you even know what you're talking about?"
"I have tasted your pain. I want to help, let me."
"Where's Greta?"
"She left."
"What have I ever given you to deserve your friendship?"
"Acceptance, Eponine."
I seek.
I hide.
I tried to push and swim my way out of the beautiful people, the music, and the roses.
I hurried to Marius.
"Take me home, Marius."
"Already? The party hasn't ended yet."
There must've been certain anger and forcefulness in my voice when I told him to take me home again. My friend obeyed.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Everything felt dry. My sheets smelled old and so did my nightdress. I felt like it was one of those nights when you feel like the wall in between you and sleep was a curse. A curse had blocked it.
I remained so still and curled up like a fetus, wrapped in my sheets. I had been in bed all morning. The maid had knocked twice on my door. Greta was probably worried, thinking I was dead. But I locked the door.
I was still not moving and I could hardly feel myself breathing. I opened my eyes a bit but the view was blurry because of my dead tears. Maybe I had a fever.
I heard familiar voices outside my room. At first because of my somewhat 'trance' I couldn't decipher the voices.
"Greta, let me in."
"I would love to go in as well to check on her but the door's locked.'
"Do you have the key?"
"Yes, I almost forgot I had it somewhere."
"Go get it, quickly."
"What if she's just sleeping? We shouldn't disturb her."
"Greta, for all you know my friend could be dead!"
"Don't say that, Mr. Marius. Don't say that!"
"Just please, go get the key."
"Yes."
A few moments later I could hear my door open. Someone checked my pulse. I was more asleep this time so the words were but buzzing sounds to me. Maybe they were not understandable because I didn't want to hear them.
At first I tried to say it in a strong, middle tone but my voice was so lost I barely whispered. "Get out. . ."
Marius climbed into my bed and held me.
"I know you don't want to hear me talk. I know you don't want to hear anyone talk but I want to comfort you. Let me hold you."
I wanted to be alone.
"'Ponine, what broke your heart?"
"How do you know? Do you even know what you're talking about?"
"I have tasted your pain. I want to help, let me."
"Where's Greta?"
"She left."
"What have I ever given you to deserve your friendship?"
"Acceptance, Eponine."