Love is Everlasting - An Enjonine Romance

Chapter 12: Visiting A Prisoner

Éponine's POV

The three of us timidly stride toward the grey and menacing-looking archway, trying to feign confidence. When we pass under the archway, it's like we enter a whole different world. A grim, dark, colourless world. Well, I suppose this is what jail must be like.

Surprisingly, I had never been here before, although I am the Jondrette Girl, Thénardier's "brat" and a supposedly notorious criminal all at once. But no, it was my first time seeing the prisons and I'm glad it's only to visit Joly and not because of my petty thieving.

The middle-aged warden is in a slumber at his desk, feet up on the tabletop and head hanging off the back of the chair. Enjolras raps his knuckles loudly on the desk and the policeman shoots up, suddenly wide awake. His wrinkled eyelids flash open and there are bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.

"What can I do for ya, Monsieur and Mademoiselles?" he asks roughly, standing up.

Enjolras clears his throat hesitantly. "We're here to visit someone."

"That's a first; we never get visitors. What's his last name? And what relationship do you have to the prisoner?"

"His name is Joly. We are friends of his and this is his fiance." Enjolras answers, gesturing to Musichetta as he says the last part.

The warden picks up a piece of paper and runs his eyes down it. "Ah, the revolutionist. That makes a lot more sense. I'll take you down to his cell."

The walk down the dark corridor of cells feels like a walk of shame of some sort. The rank odour of sweat and waste is thick in the air and it's almost bad as the smell of the sewers. The only light in the hall is the sunlight filtering through the small barred windows of the cells. Many pairs of prisoner's weary eyes follow us down the corridor in a way that I know all too well from the docks.

The warden abruptly stops and bangs on a cell door. "'Hey, wakey wakey! You got visitors!" he shouts.

Someone stirs from the back of the cell. He moves towards us, slowly getting taller, until it becomes the clear silhouette of a man. Joly.

The policeman unlocks the door and it reluctantly opens, emitting a screech against the concrete floor. We gingerly step into the cell and the warden locks it again.

"You've got ten minutes," he simply instructs, disappearing back down the corridor.

"Joly?" Musichetta whispers tentatively, stepping towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Oh Musichetta," he rasps, sweeping her into his arms. They both cry tears of happiness at the sight of each other and share a tender, bittersweet kiss.

"Enjolras," Joly smiles tenderly. "It's good to see you." He pulls him in for a hug and when they seperate, Enjolras is sniffling.

"Oh my friend, forgive me!" he pleads. "I'm the one that got you in here, it's all my fault!"

Joly shakes his head. "No, no, don't think like that. It's not your fault." he protests gently. "By the way, I have something I should tell you."

"What is it?" I ask.

"In five days, I'm to be executed."

Enjolras' POV

"WHAT?!" I whisper-yell in shock. "No, no, no! This can't be happening!"

Éponine gasps in horror and Musichetta bursts into tears. She clutches onto Joly as if her life depends on it as he attempts to calm her.

My thoughts are scrambling over each other as I pace the small dark cell, racking my brain for a way to set things right. But to my dismay, my mind is completely empty.

Musichetta, still latched onto her fiance, is whimpering in fear; I don't blame her. Éponine's hands are pressed tightly to her mouth, jaw trembling and head shaking. Joly has fixed me with a be strong expression as he comforts the two women and tells them not to worry.

My heart drops and I feel sick, stuck and helpless. Beads of sweat gather on my forehead and I feel like I could wake up from this nightmare any minute now. But I know I can't. I know it's as real as the stars.