A Promise

Chapter Thirty-Four

That night, I lay on the cold, hard floor, trying to fall asleep. My dreams were haunted with visions of Enjolras and the other barricade boys. When morning came, there were bags under my eyes. I clawed at the walls of my cell, desperate to find a way out of this prison. I was cold, hungry, and alone. I feared I might go crazy trapped in this tiny space without Enjolras by my side. My only consolation was that he was safe. I prayed that I would find an escape so that I could rejoin him. The hours flew by, but I still could not find a way out. Finally, after I had already given up hope, the door to my cell swung open. There stood the prison guard who had beaten me last night. He was holding a small bowl of food and a cup of water.

"I have your breakfast," he said, glaring at me with a look of disgust. I glared right back at him. Then, I observed that he had left the door open behind him. I realized that this could be my chance of escaping. Without stopping to think, I stood up and ran straight at the guard. The guard, caught unawares, stumbled backward and dropped my breakfast. I pushed past him and turned the corner, racing down the hall.

"Hey, she's escaping!" the guard yelled. Almost immediately, three other guards came rushing at me, blocking my path. I kept running forward. When I reached them, they grabbed me by the shoulders and held me back. However, I was not to be deterred. I stomped on their feet and elbowed them. Wrenching my arms away, I broke free. I ran faster than I had ever run in my entire life. The guards chased me, but I was too quick for them. Finally, I could see the exit. I felt rush of joy as I ran towards it. I was so close to freedom. Then, a loud bang filled my ears. My body tensed. The sound reminded me too much of the barricades. Suddenly, I felt an explosion of pain on the back of my left ankle. I gasped and fell to the ground. Blood poured for my foot, and I saw that there was a small bullet lodged in my Achilles' tendon. I screamed in pain. I tried to stand up, but the pain was too excruciating. I felt large arms wrap around me, and I knew the guards had caught up with me. I screamed and kicked, but they dragged me back to my cell, away from freedom, away from Enjolras. As they brought me back to my cell, I noticed the other prisoners were staring at me through the windows of their cells. Their faces were gaunt and their bodies were thin and weak. They were covered with filth and their eyes were dull and depressed. I vowed then and there that I would not become like these prisoners. I would not allow prison to crush my spirit. The guards threw me back into my cell, and I winced as my ankle hit the ground. The fat guard with the mole slammed the door to my cell shut.

"As punishment for your attempted escape, you will not receive any meals today," he growled through the window of my door. His words didn't faze me. I had gone much longer than one day without eating. I looked down at my ankle to inspect the wound. Blood gushed from my tendon. I doubted it would be able to heal properly without medical attention, but I was quite positive the the prison would not provide any doctors to treat me. I wondered if I would ever be able to walk correctly again. I sighed in frustration. This wound would greatly impede my chances of escaping prison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the fat guard, whose name I learned was Monsieur Girard, opened my cell door to bring me my breakfast. My stomach rumbled from having gone the entire previous day without food. Monsieur Girard smiled as he heard my growling stomach.

"Sounds like somebody's hungry," he said, holding my breakfast just out of my reach. "Maybe that will teach you never to try to escape again."

I didn't respond, but rather gave him an icy glare.

"I don't like your attitude, Thenardier," he said, spitting in my face. I winced and wiped his saliva out of my eyes.

"I don't like you either," I said, spitting right back at him. In retrospect, that probably wasn't the best thing I could have done, but I was angry at the guard. Girard kicked me in the chest as hard as he could. I let out a grunt of pain as I felt my ribs crack.

"You want this food?" he asked, holding the tray of food above my head. "Then get on your knees and beg me for it. Beg me like the dog you are!"

"I will never beg you for anything," I said, staring defiantly into his eyes.

"Then you will never eat or drink!" Girard replied, and walked out of my cell, taking my breakfast with him.

I lay in cell, clutching my broken rib. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, but I was used to not having enough to eat. The thing that really got to me was the thirst. Before, even when I didn't have anything to eat, I could always go to the River Seine and quench my thirst. Now, however, I hadn't had any water in a day. My throat was parched, and my tongue felt like clay. Sooner or later, I knew I would have to have water. Still, I was stubborn. I wasn't going to beg Girard for anything unless it became absolutely necessary.

Lunch time came, and Girard came back into my cell, making the same demand he had before. I refused to submit to him, but instead defiantly spat in his face again. That earned me another kick, this time aimed at my injured ankle. I howled in pain, but still I would not get on my knees. The same thing happened at dinnertime. The next day, I was weak with hunger and thirst, and Girard knew it. He held my meals tantalizingly just out of my reach, demanding that I beg for them, but I still refused. The next day came, and my thirst became unbearable. My tongue became swollen and I felt dizzy and exhausted. I fainted numerous times. Finally, when Girard came into my cell with my lunch, I couldn't take it anymore. I bowed my head, and, gritting my teeth, fell to my knees.

"So you've finally decided to listen to reason," Girard said, smiling in a satisfied way. "Go on. Beg me for your lunch."

"Please, Monsieur Girard," I said, groveling at his feet. "Please give me my lunch."

"That's not enough," Girard said. "I'm not satisfied."

"Please," I begged, tears running down my cheeks. "I'm sorry I have been so stubborn. I do not deserve your mercy, Monsieur, but I beg of you, please give me food and water. Please!"

"I don't know," said Girard, holding my food high above my head.

I began to sob. I threw myself at his feet, lying prostrate on the ground. "Please, Monsieur!" I cried. "I need it. I know I don't deserve it, but I beg of you, give me my lunch."

Girard laughed. "That's much better. You see, Thenardier, submission to the law is the only way to get what you want in life." With that, he placed my lunch on the floor and left my cell. I noticed he had placed the tray as far away from me as possible. With difficulty, I rose to my feet and limped over to my food. I grabbed my cup of water and gulped it down greedily. Then, I shoveled the moldy bread into my mouth and sucked the marrow out of the chicken bones. It wasn't much, but it was more than I'd had in days.