Satine [ONGOING]

SATINE (IV)

Satine found it hard to make her own decision about where she was going. She did nothing but follow the slow-moving crowd until it led her to places she recognised, some vaguely, some vividly. Against her will she turned onto the street with those awful, dreaded, haunting blue shutters. Florence had shown her apartment to Satine on the eve of her eighteenth birthday. They had been working together for a year, and Satine had just been kicked out by her old grumpy landlord. She crashed on the couch for a month. She remembered the vivid taste of the air, waking up from the smell of smoke and sometimes if she was lucky a light kiss and a sudden awakening in the form of a bucket of water over her face. Though Satine had been unbelievably naive and childish at the time, longing for the tender comfort of anyone willing to care for her, Florence's rougher ways did not scare her, had it been anyone else — not this beautiful talented woman with dark thick hair, deep brown eyes and an infectious laugh — she would have ran away. Florence had helped her grow a backbone. Over the course of that month they got so close that eventually the couch was deserted every night. Walking past the shut windows, a pang of emotion took hold of Satine, she felt heavy, her limbs barely dragging her forward. She was heaving through each breath, an indescribable pain that she knew fell upon her. Realising she did not have any physical roots anywhere anymore almost debilitated her. She felt like a lost sapling, out of the ground, reaching desperately for something steady to clog onto and grow upon, but there was nothing. The front door of the building came into view and a thin thread of hope sprang onto her: maybe if she just went in now and knocked on the door, Florence would be there. Florence would be sitting on her sofa, reading the papers, unscathed. Unchanged. Satine knew deep down that this was just a fantasy but as she looked back at the fast moving crowd, as she felt herself drift along this river of desperation, filled with gas masks, pamphlet and doomsday radios, she knew that she would regret it if she didn't take one last look. She pushed her way diagonally through the crowd with great difficulty, her skirt caught in some sort of picnic basket and ripped halfway up her leg, luckily, it didn't break or even touch any part of her skin. She made her way up the echoing staircase. The building was strangely freezing, perhaps its walls could sense the terrible atmosphere around. Maybe it could feel each and every room gradually emptying. She counted all the steps to keep her mind in check, three floors up at the end of the corridor was Florence's flat. The same flat she had cried in front of for months. The same flat she had made some of her best memories in. As she walked down the corridor with an unusually fast pace she realised the door was half-open. Her eyes widened at the sight of it, her heart started to race. It had been tightly shut for months, it simply couldn't be...but it was. With a trembling hand she pushed the door open, it gave a light crack before hitting the wall of the small entrance. Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the hinges of the kitchen cabinets, as well as a clear set of footsteps coming from inside. She made her way to the living space, each step she took made an awful noise against the floor of the corridor. She took a deep breath before peeking her head into the one and only true room of the apartment which encapsulated both the dining room, kitchen and living room all in one confined space. Her jaw dropped onto the floor when she was met by a woman, her back turned to her, with a coat she could recognise anywhere, dark blue tweed with wooden buttons on each cuff. Florence. Her dark hair was plaited down her back, and she wore a scarf around her neck. She was on her knees, shaking, rummaging through a pile of belongings, stuffing them all into a suitcase, much like Satine had done just a few hours prior to this encounter. Satine had a million things to say, and yet nothing came out. Nothing until Florence stood up on her shaking legs and turned around. Their eyes met, and time seemed to slow down.
"Florence," Satine breathed. Her friend was almost unrecognisable. Her eyes sunken, dark eyebags hanging down onto her cheeks, her mouth turned down, behind those brown eyes, where she once saw the glimmers of a thousand fires was nothing but darkness.

"Satine," Her voice broke as she said her name and in a split second Florence's arms were around Satine's shoulder. She held onto her so tight Satine had trouble breathing at first. It seemed like she could barely stand up on her own, and Florence quickly started sobbing, heaving breaths and rivers of tears streaming down her face. Satine gulped, doing her best to bring her some comfort. It felt so strange to physically feel stronger than her dear friend, the same friend that had quite literally saved her from the gutters, the friend that had taught her a way of survival, a way of thriving even through tough times, breaking down as if she were a sugar cube in the rain.

"Satine." She repeated through her tears.
"Florence." Satine said back, not quite knowing if she should laugh, sigh in relief or cry along.

"Satine, I can explain. I-I can explain." She stuttered, panicking to get all of her words out. "I can explain, I promise, I'm sorry."

Satine was in such a state of shock she could not reassure her. She could not tell it was okay, that she was sure she had a reason. That they could always sort things out. She could say nothing.

"Don't let me go." She pleaded. "Don't let me go. Please. Please."

"I wouldn't." she finally managed to say as Florence buried her face into her shoulder, eventually Satine pulled her off, keeping her hands on her shoulder. She gently pulled some now wet hair out of her face.

"Is it true?" her friend asked with a trembling voice, trying to calm down.
"Is what true?" Satine said, her eyes filled to the brim with concern. Dear lord, what had happened to her?

"We have to leave? Where is everyone going? Satine, I- I can't do this."

Satine didn't know it was possible for her heart to shatter in this manner, watching Florence all bewildered and confused, barely able to hold herself up was torture, when she had always been such a serene person, standing on her two feet effortlessly.

"You can come with me." She said, as soothingly as she could. "We can figure something out, just the two of us, yeah?"
Florence suddenly shook her head.
'What, Florence, why not?" She asked, suddenly very worried, holding onto her shoulders, somewhat scared she might just disintegrate, becoming one with the air, leaving her alone again.
"I- Oh Satine, I couldn't bear to have you look at me after-" She stopped abruptly. Satine shook her shoulders.
'After what, Florence!"

Her friend let go of Satine and her gaze travelled across the room, Satine tried to follow and understand and suddenly, she did. Florence's eyes fell upon a bundle of blankets on an armchair. The size of it alone would have told Satine what it was: A baby. Her mouth fell open as Florence gently picked it up, carefully holding its head into place. A pale, though quite chubby baby wrapped in blankets, eyes closed peacefully. Satine's eyes met Florence's then fell back onto the small being over and over again. Shame flashed across her friend's face. It all suddenly made sense. The theatre letting go of her, her disappearance, she brought it upon herself in Jeanette's voice echoed against her skull without reprieve. If only she could have put all the pieces together sooner. If only she could have prevented the sinking of her friend's eyes in the face of such a drastic change, but she couldn't. As Florence was apologising profusely, so was Satine inside the traps of her mind, though she quickly realised that wishing she had done things differently months ago wasn't going to change anything, all she could do was look to the future. She took the baby gently from her shaking friend, seeing that she was clearly frozen into place. "Don't you dare apologise one more time," She whispered. "We just need to get out of here."