Sunday, 26 December 2010
05:16:18 PM (GMT)
I can't stand it. I can't stand staying here any longer! Maybe I should run, run
away from here... Maybe I should burn everything I touch, nobody shall find me
She sat in her room thinking up plans like these often; all of them included fire in
some way or another. It's times like these when she sat in the dark under her bed
that these thoughts would stir, it's times like these her mother would interrupt.
"Eponine!" She called her voice as sweet as honey and she knocked on the door. The
girl scurried out and switched on her bedside light and grabbed a brush, pretending
that's what she was doing.
"Yeah?" She asked and her mother opened the door and smiled at her child.
"Dinner's nearly ready, 'Ponine. Be sure you make it downstairs in time, okay?" She
asked. Eponine smiled and nodded at her mother and continued to brush her hair. "Good
girl," was the last thing her mother said before she closed the door. Eponine dropped
her brush and looked in her mirror that hung above her bed. Her black hair fell past
her shoulders and she was very thin. Her large eyes, blue and haunting, stared back
at her as if they had something to tell her. Something so very important that they
couldn't tell even her, their owner. She shook her head and stood up, moving her
wardrobe out of the way so that it blocked her door. She moved it until the burns
started to show on her bedroom wall, all the way up her wall but concealed by her
wardrobe of dresses, skirts and t-shirts. She admired the burns, smirked at them, and
reached into her pocket and withdrew her silver lighter. She smiled at that now,
spinning the thumbwheel she watched as it created friction against the flint and the
wick burned. She was moving the lighter closer to the wall when she heard footsteps
on the stairs. She gasped and closed the lid over on the lighter, the lack of oxygen
killing the flame, and she moved quickly to move the wardrobe back. There were 28
steps on the stairs, whoever it was had already scaled 4. 5, 6, 7, 8...
Her pulse quickened as she got the wardrobe back in place just as her door opened,
Eponine moved out the way so not to get hit by the door. Her brother stood in the
doorway, towering over the girl. He was three years older and was very bulky, unlike
herself who was dangerously thin and getting thinner."Twerp, you're wan'ed at the
t'ble." He said, his stupid accent he'd adopted from his less-than-grammatical
friends. Eponine sighed and looked at her brother, her eyes widening slightly.
"Well I am just coming, dearest brother. Do not worry yourself." She said politely
and crossed her arms over her chest. He snorted and turned around leaving. She sighed
again, but because she'd never touched the wall with the beautiful flame. She
uncrossed her arms and looked at her wardrobe. She made her way downstairs, counting
the steps as she went down them. I'll just touch it later, it'll be fine...
She reassured herself and went into the kitchen, greeting her parents and not her
brother. She sat down and looked at the food on the plate; Chicken covered in gravy
with mashed potatoes and peas. Thoroughly disgusting, she decided. She moved the
plate away from her lightly. Her mother looked at her like she'd just insulted her.
"Do you not want it, 'Ponine?" She asked, moving over to her and placing a comforting
hand on her back.
Eponine opened her mouth to talk when her brother spoke up. "She's wan'ing attention,
fucktard." He stuffed his mouth with the food and Eponine made a face of disgust. He
was like some savage animal, tearing at the meat and not even using the cutlery but
"Andre! Language!" Her mother scolded him and rested her head on her daughters. "Oh
'Ponine, is there anything you want to eat?" She asked. Eponine shook her head
vigorously. She wasn't hungry but she knew she had to eat but she wanted to get back
to her room, she had to. Her mother sighed, that sigh that made Eponine feel
so horrible for not eating but she knew she'd be sick if she did. "Well, I guess, if
you don't want any more you may leave to do as you wish." She said, patting her
shoulder lightly and moving away. Eponine stood and left the kitchen, climbing 16
steps and sitting down to listen to the conversation.
"Oh, John... What are we to do with Eponine?" Her mother asked with worry. The girl
tensed on the stairs, pulling her knees to her chest. "Forever ill and eats nothing,
it's not correct for her age, is it?"
"Aye it is, she's begging fer attention." Andre told her in a provocative
"Andre I do wish that you'd speak properly, nobody can understand you when you talk
like that..." Her mother complained. She heard a fist hit the table and jumped. The
chair moved along the floor, the noise causing Eponine to grind her teeth together,
and heavy footsteps moving around the table. Eponine stood and ran to her room, she
did not wish to hear another beating to her mother caused by Andre in which her
father couldn't aid her. She switched the light off and slid under her bed, curling
up in fear. She could just imagine the bruises her mother would get now and shivered.
She lay on her stomach, reached into her pocket and withdrew the lighter, flicking it
on and watching the flame with a smile on her face. The hiss of the flame blocked out
the noise and the beauty of the flame captivated her enough to forget about
Captivated her so much she never noticed the flame catch on a thread hanging from the
mattress and burning all the way up and onto her bed. She let out a scream and
crawled out from the bed quickly and stared at her flaming bed with horror-filled
eyes. "What've I done?" She whispered as her dad burst into the room and stared at
the fire. He grabbed his daughters arm and pulled her out of the room and down the
stairs. She was too shock filled to fight and explain she wanted to stay. It was once
she was outside with her family that she realised she wanted back inside. She started
to run but Andre grabbed her arm.
"Do you belong in the loony bin, 'Ponnie?!" He shouted at her, she tried to struggle
out of his grip.
"Unhand me, idiot! Let me go, let me go!" She demanded and his grip tightened on her
wrist, getting dangerously close to snapping it. "Andre! Let go!" She shouted and let
out a scream of pain and collapsed to her knees in pain. She reached into her pocket
and took out lighter, lighting it and held it up to her brothers arm until it burned
him and he released her. She ran inside, ignoring her mother screaming her name and
ran up to her room which was now engulfed in flames. She looked around and smiled.
This is what she'd planned, this is how she wanted to die. Even if it was the most
painful way to die, she figured starvation was worse.
She sank to her knees and arranged her dress properly around them. This was how she'd
planned it, she'd straightened her hair every day so it would lie properly around
her. She wore only her favourite dresses so she'd die in something beautiful, she'd
put the same natural make-up on so she'd die being the prettiest person left in the
house, even if there was nobody left behind.
Last edited: 26 December 2010