Eponine is a child of the night, which she accepts openly. Night is a far better parent than both of her parents put together. Monsieur and Madame Thernadier did love their daughter once, before their inn went bankrupt and the family was forced to move to Paris' slums. Then they began to beet the poor girl, not even over the age of twelve. Such is the fate of the poor girl. As for me, I am a child of the night too. That's why I think that we would make a nice couple.
My little gamine has finally stumbled out of the shabby house where her family rents a room. Normally, when she plunges into night's dark embrace, she sings songs from the opera quietly to herself. Eponine was given a natural ear for music along with a gorgeous soprano voice. Tonight, though, she doesn't sing. Just today, she found a note in her pocket telling her to meet her secret admirer under the bridge that crosses over the Seine. I thought to simply go early and wait there for her, but I decided that following her there might be more fun. After all, I've stalked many a person before. I've learned to conceal myself well.
We pass a café where the members of the ABC club are assembled. Eponine pauses briefly, her petite form illuminated in the bright light shining through the café's windows. She gazes on the Pontmercy boy, and I scowl. What does she see in him? Why doesn't she take notice to my obvious hints, and just look on the Pontmercy boy in adoration?
The Pontmercy boy looks up, and, upon seeing Eponine, waves for her to come him. Her whole face shines as bright as a million stars, and she practically dances inside the café. Maybe she hopes that the Pontmercy boy is her secret admirer. Reluctant to be in even the same room as the Pontmercy boy but wanting to continue stalking Eponine, I follow her inside. Lodging myself at a table in the opposite corner, I order a glass of ale and watch intently.
"Will you do a favor for me, 'Ponine?" the Pontmercy boy asks.
"Anything for you, Monsieur Marius," Eponine replies, giddy just because he has remembered her name. (The bloke only remembers that her name's Eponine half the time.)
"Good. Can you give this note to the girl who lives on the Rue Plumet, Cosette?" The sparkle in Eponine's eyes dulls. She knows right well that the Pontmercy boy is hopelessly in love with the Monsieur LeBlanc's daughter but refuses to give up hope that a romance may yet blossom between them.
"Sure." Eponine takes the note from the Pontmercy boy's hands and leaves the café. I rise from the table and follow her. I hope she has not forgotten her appointment with her secret admirer. She hurries towards the Seine, but she passes the bridge were we are to meet without so much as a passing glance. My hand flies to my knife, but I whisper to myself, "Calm down, calm down."
Eponine reaches the Rue Plumet. So, she decided to follow the Pontmercy boy's orders first. Once again, my hand flies to my knife, and I whisper the same thing to myself. She scales the walls of the house like a cat, and finally rests in one window where there is a lady of fashion, about her age. The lady isn't surprised to see her and takes the note. As the lady sits at a desk to write a reply, I scurry away. When Eponine returns to the café, she's going to find quite a surprise.
My work is done, and here comes my dear, little Eponine, right on cue. I hide behind the curtain that separates the café in to two separate rooms, where she will not see me. Through a little tear in the worn fabric, I can see everything. The look on Eponine's face when she enters the café's front room is priceless. Her eyes dart from each corpse, stabbed to death. She looks first to the café owner, then the members of the ABC, then their leader, Enjorlas, and then, finally, her beloved Marius. She screams, and I dash out from behind the curtain.
"'Parn-" Eponine doesn't get a chance to finish my name as I smother her in a long, passionate kiss and drive my knife in to her back.
Fin