Satine [ONGOING]

GABRIELLE (X)

She came back home in the darkness and stillness, well past the curfew recently set by the germans. Twigs stuck in her tangled hair, her hands covered in dark mud, making its way underneath her neatly cut nails. All that her mother said at the sight of her was: "Gabrielle Cecile Elise Dumont." Her name, spoken with such disdain and disappointment, shook her almost to her core, however, she did not let that show. Gabrielle stepped into her house and untied her shoes slowly, with a stoic expression.
"Sorry, maman." She told the older woman, barely meeting her eyes. She wasn't sure she meant it, she most likely didn't, every inch of her body hurt, especially her ankle, which she quickly noticed had turned a slightly worrying purple colour with uneven blotches of red and yellow as she took off her soaking wet socks. Her mother's eyes widened at the sight, she gasped and her hands flew over her mouth.
"Oh bon dieu..." She whispered, crouching down to take a better look, her anger had been suddenly postponed, to make space for worry, in her true motherly fashion ,especially toward Gabrielle. She barely dared to touch the swollen discoloured skin. Gabrielle stared at it somewhat shocked that she had been able to keep on her feet ever since she had jumped out of that window.

"What's going on?" Satine asked right before emerging from the hallway. Her eyes widened immediately. "Oh lord, Gabrielle, what did you do?"

The young girl almost scoffed at how similar her tone of voice was to her mother's. She was practically turning into her by the looks of it, constantly taking care of that baby, and worrying, playing the piano whenever she had some free time instead of venturing up the mountains, or spending time among the village. "Maman, actually," She said, pulling her hands away from the uncovered ankle. "I think Florence might know a thing or two about this." Marie-Lise held her hands up in the air. "I think I'll take anyone with the slightest shred of medical knowledge." Her voice was laced with something like an exasperated sigh, Satine nodded and was soon out of their sight, running up the stairs to fetch her friend. Gabrielle tried to seem bothered, annoyed even at the worry displayed by her family members, but sharp pain tore through her leg, and she avoided the sight of her swollen skin at all cost. The mere thought of it made her feel a little sick. This behaviour didn't go unnoticed by Marie-Lise, who became unsurprisingly tender with her. She put her hand against her cheek, cu[ping her face, Gabrielle looked into her eyes, they were spilling with concern and perhaps a bit of confusion, there was an unspoken question, and Gabrielle knew what it was: Why would you do something like that? Why would you climb out the window of your classroom?

"Gabrielle," She started, but the girl quickly interfered.
"I don't know," She lied, letting her voice linger on each and every word. She couldn't admit to it. She couldn't tell her mother of all people that she had thrown herself out a window in an effort to escape the suffocating gossip of her classroom. Not only would the subject at hand either make her incredulously angry at her sister, or feel all the more sorry for her, it would give her the last word in their life long argument. Gabrielle had always looked down on her mother for caring about the opinion of others, she had never imagined she would be subject to that same feeling which she considered akin to cowardice. She wasn't sure she could ever admit it to herself and certainly not to her mother. Before another question passed between the two, Florence, the woman that remained somewhat a mystery to Gabrielle, made her way down the stairs with a heavy step.
"Satine said something about–" Her eyes focused on the purple skin of the young girl and her jaw dropped to the floor. "Mon dieu, well that doesn't look too good."
Marie-lise gave her a sudden glare, Gabrielle rolled her eyes, it wasn't as if Florence's statement was sending her into a panic or frenzy as her mother seemed to think. The young woman raised her hands up in defence. "Sorry, forgive my terrible bedside manners, but I wouldn't want to lie. Can you stand?" She asked Gabrielle, already holding her hand out in an anticipatory way. She grunted as she got up from the wooden bench underneath which her boots now lay in disarray. Marie-Lise and Florence helped her into the living room, where she was asked to sit down on the sofa, in a similar way to how her sister had been a few days before, with that blood stained dress. The same dress that people all across the village and all its neighbouring hamlets were still whispering about. Gabrielle had to grind her teeth at the mere thought of it to keep her anger and frustration at bay.