As usual, I woke up early. Being it was Christmas morning, Azelma jumped out of bed the moment her eyes opened. We ran down the stairs. But I stopped I held Azelma back. I heard Papa talking to the stranger from the night before. Papa didn't like being interrupted so I knew he wouldn't like us waltzing down the stairs unannounced. We watched, and we listened. "1500 francs should do." The man in the yellow coat said. Then Mama walked in the room, bringing Cosette by the hand. "Come along dear. You're not frightened of me are you? Here she is Monsieur." She said. Cosette hugged her new dolly close. The man knelt down in front of Cosette and said "Wrap your self up child. It is cold, and we're going away."

Away? Away! What did he mean "Away"? How can they go away? How could he take her? I didn't dare speak out, though I really had every intention to. But I kept silent and watched. The man picked up Cosette and carried her away. What had just happened? Her mother left her here and now a man has come to take her away? Of course none of this would have made sense to me.

She would no longer have to put up with the work and beatings. "The Lark". The little Lark always up before dawn. The little Lark who had never sung. But it looks like she finally flew.

With Cosette gone, you can be sure that much work was left undone at the inn. Mama took out most of her anger on us without that little wretch to beat. But mostly she took it out on Gavroche. Poor, little Gavroche. He was so small and sweet. I loved him dearly. Now that he was over a year he was rather strong, and could walk and talk very well. I have told you that he was very intelligent. Mama made him do a lot of Cosette's chores but he had me to help him if I could. Mama may have refused to ignore it but Gavroche was smaller then Cosette was and couldn't do all that she could.

Three months since she left. Things haven't been the same. Mama again was with child. And you would have though that four was enough mouths to feed…or at least she fed two of them. My youngest brother grows quite thin, not like Gavroche. But unlike Gave, he couldn't feed himself. Mama nurses him but without care. Although I don't show it, I have fear for the next baby. Suppose it's not a girl?

"So where is the skinny Lark?" asked Michele one day.

"They took her away." I turned my eyes to the ground.

"'They?'"

"Some strange man."

"Was he wearing a yellow coat?" he asked.

"Oui."

"I saw him."

"You did?" I looked at him. "Where?"

"In the woods."

"In the…?" My mind was now again racing with questions. "What on earth were you doing in there? And at night!" This time he didn't grin, he just stared straight ahead. I've never seen him like that! I knew right away something was wrong. Very wrong. I wasn't about to ask him again. I knew he would have to tell me sooner or later. We had just laid in the grass.

As time went by, I realized a shadow had fallen over our lives, but I didn't quite realize what exactly had fallen over Michele's until on brisk day in October. I was of my tenth year. Azelma and I were in the yard with our three brothers (yes the last was a boy) when I saw Michele running by the house. When he didn't answer my call, I was very curios to know where he was going. "Stay, and watch the babies, Azelma." I said. I ran after Michele as fast as I could, although my long skirts made it difficult. I fallowed him to the edge of the village, where I saw him head for the woods "Oh not again!" I said to myself.

But I was determined to know what was going on. He had been acting very strange and I hated being kept in the dark. I picked up my skirts and ran. For a moment, I thought I lost him and was about to turn back when I spotted him at the base of a massive tree. He was sitting there with his face in his hands. When I took a few steps closer I heard sobbing. He was crying? He didn't notice me even when I was kneeling in front of him and very close. "Michele?" I said. My voice was barely above a whisper. He jerked his head up so quickly that I was taken aback. I saw his face was soaking with tears. I said nothing more. We stared at each other, neither of us knowing what to say. We remained silent for what seemed like eternity.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore! "Mon Dieu! Say something, Michele! Speak to me!" Tears were filling my eyes and threatened to spill. His eyes were calm. He seemed no longer ashamed of his own tears. "You startled me, 'Ponine." He said quietly.

"Did I?" I asked "I'm…I'm sorry."

"What are you doing here 'Ponine? You shouldn't have come."

I knew that there was no hope in lying. I knew Michele would just see right through me.

"I…um…fallowed you here. But what in the name of France are doing out here? And why are you alone? Why do you weep? In all our years of companionship I've never seen you shed a tear!" It was true. I never remembered seeing Michele crying. He was always the one to come to me when I was ill and crying a storm! Now it was my turn to come to him yet he seemed to want to keep himself to himself. Of course it wouldn't stop me. And he knew very, very well that he couldn't and wouldn't hide from me forever. He turned his eyes to the ground.

"I'm here for the same reasons as I was here on Christmas Eve. The reason that I wouldn't tell you of before, and I wish I didn't have to tell you know." I had to bring my face very close to his to hear his last words. "But" he continued "I must tell someone or I'll go mad! And you, little kitten, were bound to find out sooner or later." And with that said, he sat up straight and unbuttoned his shirt. I stood as he threw the dirty rag to the ground. What I saw I couldn't believe. Bruises, blooded cuts, evil scars, they were all down back.

My mouth must have been wide open for he smiled slightly. "You seem very surprised."

"I…what…who?" Michele knew what I was trying to say.

"My old man." He said plainly. "Never liked the bastard."

"And what of your mother?" I asked thinking that surely his mother would protect him. But Michele just shook his head "She is just as bad as Him. She just acts like nothing happening. I know that neither of them ever wanted me."

"You never said a word to me…"I said feeling hurt.

"What good would it do!" He shot back. As he looked at me, there was no twinkle in his eye.

"I…I don't know…" I had no words. I looked at his wounds. Some looked infected. Finally after a long time I got the courage to sit next to him. "Is this why you came here last Christmas?" I ask softly

"Oui. Papa was drinking and I knew I had to get out of the house."

I leaned my head on his shoulders. "So what will you do now?"

"Run away…I guess."

"But where will you go?"

"Paris?" he smiled "Maybe I'll hide out underground."

"Or in Notre Dame's bell tower." I suggested smiling back.

"I could travel in disguise" he suggested

"Or become an acrobat, in a traveling circus." We laughed.

"I could take you with me, we could both be acrobats" he said. It was a wonderful thought but I shook my head. "No I need to take care of my brothers."

"Well we could always take Gavroche. He's a strong kid." Michele said with a smile.

That reminded me "I Left Gavroche with Azelma!" I said, almost panicking. "He is probably climbing the roof right now! Come on!" I took Michele's hand and we headed back to the Inn. I didn't trust Azelma at all with the little ones.

When we got there, my sister was alone. Well Gavroche was with her but the babies were gone. "Azelma" I called looking around "Where are the boys?" Azelma looked at me, gave a glare in Michele's direction then turned her gaze to the dirt at her feet. "A lady came and took them. Mama says she will take care of them." She said. The look in her eyes told me that she really didn't care. She was like Mama, she never loved the boys.

What Azelma was telling me was not sinking in easily. I was still trying to make sense of it when Gavroche came running and rapped his arms around me. "'Ponine, 'Ponine, Zelma hurt!" he cried. Well that didn't surprise me in the least. Azelma would often hurt Gavroche. I turned him over to Michele, who was happy to watch him, and went into the Inn to find Mama. As always she was serving the costumers their whiskey and wine. I caught her on her way to the kitchen and tugged on her skirts "Mama, where are the babies? Azelma said that they were…"

"And it's true!" She stopped me, not looking down at me. "What your sister says is true. A friend of mine came." she told me. "She lost her two little babies. She said she would take care of the little ones."

She wouldn't say anymore. She just went back to work. At first I thought it was a very terrible thing, but the more I thought over the situation, the more I realized that this was a chance for the boys to get out and live with a mother who cares for them. Maybe this woman would love them the way Mama wouldn't. Why else after all would she take them?

The next couple of days were quiet in the Inn. Mama seemed much more pleasant. When Gavroche asked where the boys were, I didn't answer.

Michele was afraid to go home. But he couldn't live outside so he snuck in through his bedroom window after dark when his Mother and Father were asleep and then sneak back out at dawn. The two of us stuck together during the day. There were no secrets between us. But that November he turned fourteen, and he decided it was time for him to leave for good. He said they had work in Paris, and he wanted to get out of this small town.

Early in the morning I snuck out of the house through my window to say goodbye. Michele met me out front, with a small bundle in his arms. We started walking side by side. It was still very dark and I rapped my shawl tightly around my shoulders. "So you're really leaving?" I asked him, breaking the long deafening silence between us.

"I think there are better things for me elsewhere." He answered softly.

"You're walking all the way to Paris?"

He didn't answer right away. He took a breath then said "Well I could always hitch a ride on a buggy. I'll make it somehow." We didn't speak for a while, not until we reached the edge of the village. He turned to me as I looked to the ground.

"I'll never see you again." I said, with tears threatening to spill from eyes. But I really didn't want him to see me cry, not over him. He put his arms around me and held me close. I felt him lean his cheek on my head. "You will." He said "If I didn't think our paths would meet again, I wouldn't be leaving."

I berried my face in his chest. "We'll make a promise." He said and he held me by the shoulders, looking into my eyes.

"What kind of promise?" I asked, trying with all my might not to shed a tear.

"The kind that can never be broken." he replied, taking a knife from his trousers. He held out his right hand for me to see and with his blade, slit himself from the bottom of his thumb to his wrist. Then he took my left hand and paused. I nodded my approval and he made the same slit on my hand. I clenched my teeth when the cold air met my warm blood and felt like it was pricking me with needles. Michele tucked his blade back into his pocket. He laced his figures with mine, pressing our wounds together firmly. All the while he kept a straight face, his pain threshold clearly stronger then mine.

"We now share pain, and blood." He finally said. "This is forever, Eponine. No matter how impossible, even if we travel to opposite ends of the earth, we shall meet again." His grip on my hand started to ease but I kept mine tight. He brought his other hand to my wrist and gently guided my hand to my side. "For that reason 'Ponine, we wont even say "Goodbye"'. He swung his bundle around his shoulder. Then he leaned in close and he gently kissed my cheek. Then Michele quickly turned and headed down the road, leaving Montermeil. And he never looked back.