Sell Some Lives

Marais

Jaquet was carrying me into a bright bustle of a street, shouting at a crossing sweeper to clear the dirt so he could pass through.

"My ... girl is dying!" He shouted when the boy protested. I didn't feel like I was dying though my face stung and I couldn't feel my limbs. I must have looked like I was dying though because the street sweeper did as he was told and we passed and flagged down a cab. He told the driver to take us to the Monde Carcéral House in Enfermé Road.

Then he made me lay my head on his lap and started playing with my hair.

It felt so nice, but I had to make him stop because he was the enemy. 

"Jaquet?" I murmured. 

"Yes?! Are you feeling better Tali? Do you need me to prop up your head? Or remove the glass off your face?"

"Do you... live in the Marais?' I asked hopefully. It was a very privileged part of town.

He laughed at the idea. "No where near those peasants. I live on the outskirts of town." He said 'humbly'.

I shook my head at his pomposness.

"My mother wanted us to live there once. Long long ago."

"Oh... why did she change her mind?"

"She probably didn't... I don't know though I haven't seen her in years."

"... I'm sorry T. I can't imagine being without my mother for a year — I can't last a week without seeing her. Mama's boy I guess." He chuckled. He went on talking but I tuned him out. 

The sound of his voice made me feel sick... or maybe it was the pain.