Satine [ONGOING]

SATINE (V)

"Non mais avançez, oui!" An old man behind them shouted as people pushed past the pair with disapproving grunts. They were rather slow. Satine was unbelievably careful with the baby, doing her best to shield her head from the commotion of the crowd. It reminded her of when her brother was just newly born, and her mother had let her hold him for the first time, she could almost hear her mother implore her to support the baby's neck with each step she took. Florence carried the two suitcases they had, breathing heavily in panic as they pushed their way past more dier cases than their own: The sickly, the elderly, herds of young children. Satine knew that Florence could not bear to see this much suffering in her already fragile state, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

"Ça va aller. Ça va aller, Florence." She assured her from time to time, though she wasn't quite sure everything would be all right as time went on. Abruptly, someone screamed and the sound of an engine came to a halt with a terrible glistening noise. Heads turned to the provenance of the noise and all Satine noticed through the clusters of people was blood trickling down the road toward her feet. She held herself back from being sick and squeezed her friend's hand. A shrill scream continued but she preferred not to listen. She blocked it all out and it was soon replaced by an uninterrupted ringing in her ears brought on by fatigue and excessive amounts of stress. The smell of gasoline made its way into the air once they were out of the centre, closer to the larger roads, tickling her nose. It was close to unbearable. Night fell faster than anyone wished for, and people were still walking without clear destinations in large groups where coughs and sniffles reigned. For hours, Satine had held onto Florence's hand, she feared she might lose her to the fields or the crowd, or the cars if they lost sight of each other, even for just a brief moment. They had not exchanged a word with each other since they had left the city. There was nothing much to say. There were no solutions to come up with, wrestling with their own worries was exhausting enough. The pair walked until the blisters were deeply rooted in their feet that they seemed to reach the bone, until their surge of adrenaline died out leaving them as apathetic shells of themselves, until most of the crowd around them had fallen behind or turned at different road signs as well as fallen asleep by the side of the road. They marched on until their bodies forced them to find somewhere to stay. They knocked at doors, crying pleading, begging, their hands together, but door after door locked in their faces. They got the luxury of hearing the metal clinking of the keys turning just as they had felt the slightest bit of hope. The baby cried, screamed until neither woman paid it any mind anymore. The suffering and discomfort was a natural background noise. In the darkness, they stumbled into a small little municipality called Montereau. All they wanted was somewhere to sit and rest their feet, they had almost given up on the thought of water and food, but they needed somewhere safe for the child to sleep, and Satine would not risk falling asleep on the side of the road with a baby. Around the small church at the centre of the village they found what looked like an open restaurant and without second thought the all tired, exhausted sweaty Satine opened the wooden front door, accidentally causing it to slam against a wall on the other side, having lost all subtlety in her movements hours ago. The few customers that remained at this hour looked at her as if she were a ghost or the Frankenstein monster, if not a combination of both. She had lost track of time and did not know she had walked for nearly twelve hours already. It was a little past midnight. A young man in an apron walked up to the pair, a notebook in hand. He looked Satine up and down before even saying a word. Satine did not doubt she looked worse than death itself. She felt sweat stick to her skin like glue.

"Puis-je vous aider?" The man asked carefully, after clearing his throat.

"Oui, we need a place to stay." The man bit his lip and allowed for a moment of silence, his hesitancy was not going to fly very far with Satine in her current state. She could feel irritation tingle in her fingers as soon as he stuttered. Luckily, he continued before she exploded.