She could hear the gypsies' drunken singing from her cage. Every night they would drink, dance, and have fun around the fire while she was stuck here, shivering in the cool night air. Currently they were singing one of their favorites.

"Master of the House
Quick to catch yer eye
Never wants a passerby
To pass him by
Servant to the poor
Butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher
And lifelong mate
Everybody's boon companion
Everybody's chaperone
But lock up your valises Jesus!
Won't I skin ya to the bone!"

'Master of the house, yeah right,' she thought with a snort. A travelling circus was about as far from a house as humanly possible. She wrapped her arms around her knees. When the next verse came around, she began to whisper her own lyrics instead of the ones the gypsies sang.

"I used to dream
That I would meet a prince
But God Almighty,
Have you seen what's happened since?
'Master of the house?'
Isn't worth me spit!
'Comforter, philosopher'
And lifelong shit!"

Tears began to fall. The only defense she had left was to mock him, but she didn't even have the courage to do it to his face. She let out a loud sob. How had her life fallen to such ruin? Continuing to cry, she whispered the last few lines of her version.

"What a cruel trick of nature
Landed me with such a louse
God knows how I've lasted
Living with this bastard in the house"

She curled up into a ball, but sleep wouldn't come easy tonight. The slightest movements caused extreme pain in her back. The cut from the whip had scabbed over in the past few days but was still throbbing. It was probably infected, but the gypsies wouldn't give her any medical attention. She closed her eyes, pretending that the fact this one cut could very possibly kill her had never crossed her mind.

"Hello?" She looked up and saw Chavi poking her head in tent. "Father?" When she didn't receive an answer, the gypsy quickly made her way to the cage and pushed a few scraps of bread through the bars. "I'm sorry there's not more," she quickly apologized. "But it's all I could take without him noticing. Maybe later I can get something more." She quickly wolfed down the food. Javert didn't always remember to feed her (or just simply chose not to), and it had been two days since she had last eaten. Chavi had saved her from starvation on more than one occasion.

Chavi seemed to notice the slash on her back for the first time. "Oh my God, why did he do that to you? Did you upset him?" She shrugged, honestly still not knowing why Javert suddenly had had the urge to use it against her. "He has been lashing out at everyone. Maybe it's cause we're in Paris."Her eyes must have questioned, because Chavi continued with, "About fifteen years ago, he nearly died when we were just outside of Paris. An exhibit, the one that used to be in this cage, tried to kill Javert before escaping into the city. He's hated this part of France since."

"What kind of beast would need a cage like this?" she asked in a hushed voice so no one would hear. Even Chavi seemed kind of surprised to hear her speak.

"It wasn't a beast," the gypsy clarified. "It was a boy. His face was deformed on one side. My father would…" Her voice broke. "My father would whip him for the amusement of the crowds. People would come to see him abuse the boy. The crueler he was, the more money he mad. I was only about four, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his face, that desperate look in his eyes. I don't think I could blame him if he had actually succeeded."

The gypsy girl looked around. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I have to go. If my father finds out I've been back here…well, you know what will happen."

After Chavi left, she contemplated what she had just learned. There had been someone before her. That someone had escaped. God, it was possible to get out of here alive! But how could she even attempt it? The boy Chavi was talking about had to strangle Javert to get out, and then he had to get away from the fair. And after all that, he'd have to be able to survive on the streets of Paris. She was hundreds of miles from home and couldn't even speak in front of Javert in fear of punishment. That meant she was trapped here until someone rescued her or she died.

She curled up and attempted to go to sleep, ignoring the pain in her back. No one was ever coming for her. No one cared she was here. No handsome Prince Charming would ever take her away. She was doomed to die in this awful cage, a slave to Javert's whims, and there was absolutely nothing she could ever do to change that.

"Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream
of what I need…
I need a hero"

She began to dream of what her hero would be like if one were to ever come. Tall, strong, handsome for sure. He would come in, take her in his arms, and carry her off into the night. They would go off to his castle and would live together happily ever after. Looking out the slightly partly open tent flap, she stared into the starry sky, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life"

"Oh who am I kidding? Anyone could be my hero as long as they saved me," she murmured dejectedly. "I'd sell my soul to the Devil himself if that's what it took to get out of here." Sighing heavily, she finally drifted into the embrace of sleep.