I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter, but I had to make it happen. I promise the next one is better.
After the man took Cosette away, our household began to fall apart. Gavroche and I were put to work. Niether of us were accustomed to this type of work, and, in her absence, everyone began to appreciate the work that Cosette did for us. We never knew how hard it was, or how heavy a bucket of water could be.
Mother still pampered Azelma, though. Azelma was the perfect child. So respectful and kind. Unlike me, who, like the Lark, should be put to work. Gavroche and I swept and mopped side by side, and, eventually, our bond grew stronger. But then the inn went under.
We had to sell something. We had no money to buy food or firewood with. I went to the market every day to sell our old clothes. Soon we were left with only the clothes on our body. We feared the day when winter would once again arrive. We would have no heat because we could not afford firewood, and our bodies could not produce it because are clothes are thin, summer rags. Autumn was approaching rapidly, and after autumn was winter.
One day in, late autumn, papa took Gavroche to the market to help him carry things. Lord only knew what they were going to buy; they had no money. I was sweeping the floor by the front of the inn when papa arrived. He had no goods in his arms, and my brother was not trailing behind him.
"Papa, where's Gavroche?" I asked, worried.
"Gone," he replied simply.
"Gone where?" I asked, growing more fearful.
"How the hell should I know? I sold 'im off to one of the street vendors. Got a whole five 'undred francs!" papa told me, quite pleased with himself.
"Y-you what?" I asked timidly.
"You heard me, girl! Now get back to work, the floors don't sweep themselves!" he yelled, walking out of the room.
Tears flooded my eyes, and I ran upstairs. "'Zelma! 'Zelma!" I screamed frantically as I hurried into the room we shared.
"What, Éponine?" she asked, sounding very annoyed and looking at me like I had interrupted something.
"Papa, he went to the market, and-and he sold Gavroche!" I sputtered.
Azelma just stared at me in disbelief. She had never been close to Gavroche, but family is family. Azelma quickly wiped her eyes, which were slightly moist. I sat down beside her, and she just stared at me, mute. So we sat there, staring at each other, tears streaming down our faces, finally facing the first real pain in our lives, the first true loss.