The Les Miserables Challenge!

1. Introduction in First Person

1. Let's start sweet and simple. Introduce yourself as a character of your choice, writing in first person! It can be an OC or an Original.

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My name is Joleigh Accord; I am one and twenty years old. I was born in the countryside of Paris in a little town called...I can't remember. But I do remember that I had a younger sister - possibly, and a mother with golden hair. My father took me away when I was very young, around three years old. He said I would go back there one day, but we never did. He took me to Paris, and I have been here ever since. My father became a baker on the street of Saint Riche...

"Do I have to do this?" I looked up, twirling the quill in my hand and letting ink drops spill onto the worn out pages of the book Enjolras had provided for me.

"Stop doing that, you're wasting the ink." Combeferre ordered and I smirked at him - but put down the quill before the intellectual student threw a fit. I had already used half a pot; the curled and messy letters I had practiced on various sheets of scrap paper were strewn across the desk and the floor around it.

"I like reading books, not writing them." I gave a pleading look to the other two men in the room. Enjolras stood by the window, gazing off into the streets, his gold hair glowing as he watched the sun disappear behind the buildings. Jehan was on my right and Combeferre on my left, both offering their knowledge to help me. The young poet smiled gently and held up his own quill to my torn sheet.  

"The 'e' of Riché, has an accent - like this-" With a flick of his hand, the letter had a dash above it.

"How am I meant to know that?" I stated, staring and the sheet. "Please, I don't want to write, and I don't think I'll ever need it. I don’t write letters. Enjolras? Are you even listening?" It was then my fiancé spun around and walked to my side.

"You're getting better." He murmured, blue eyes scanning the page.

"Thank you, can I stop now?" I begged, pulling the cutest face I could muster. Enjolras clucked his tongue in amusement and lay the paper back onto the desk, taking care to brush my hand on the way past. I smirked.

"Joleigh, you're not a child." Combeferre huffed, pushing his spectacles up his pointed nose. I hit him on the shoulder.

"I'm not the only one in Paris who can't write at twenty years of age. I bet there are people out there, twice my age who can't write, let alone read!" 

"Yes. And that needs to change." Enjolras said sternly and went back to the window. "Starting with you." I sighed.

"How about I dictate and Jehan writes it-"

"No. No more arguments, we are teaching you to write and that's final." He commanded. I pursed my lips and took my quill back from Jehan’s offering hand.

 “Should I start again?” I asked as Combeferre lit a candle. 

“No, just continue.” I breathed heavily and dipping my quill into the ink pot and began to write once more:

…where I grew up into a young girl. I was very fond of reading, discovering this my father bought me a book. ‘Tales of a World Long Forgotten’; it was filled with all sorts of fairytales and fables. This is how I learnt to read, by reading the book over and over again. My father could not afford to buy me another. He had to use the money for ‘other’ things 

“What are other things?” Jehan asked innocently.

“Let’s just say, my father was not always a noble figure. I couldn’t be the only female in his life. It was his one bad quality.” I gave him a painful smile. 

“Oh.” I saw Enjolras and Combeferre exchange pitiful glances.

… Money was always trouble. He couldn’t afford to send me to school. So I was taught by him, and got a decent education. My father was good at teaching. However, not going to school had many disadvantages, one of the most important being that I couldn’t make any friends. I was too shy to confront anyone on the street. Until one day, when I was fourteen, a younger girl attempted to steal bread from my Papa’s stall as I was minding it. She could have almost gotten away with it if a certain young boy caught her…

“Enjolras’ favorite part.”

“Be quiet, Combeferre.”

 … His name was Enjolras and the young girl was Eponine. I told her she could keep the bread, I guess I was just happy I found children my age and wanted to stay on their good side. It worked; I was soon whisked away and introduced to; Jehan, Combeferre, Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Joly, Lesgles, Bahorel and Feuilly. The friends I have had for many years and hopefully many more to come. A few years later, my father died; a plague had swept through Paris and he was a victim. Thus, with no money to pay rent, I had to take to the streets. My life became dark; something I never want to experience again… 

“It’s late. How about we continue tomorrow?” I continued softly. “I’m tired. Please, my love.” Enjolras ran a hand through his curls, his blue eyes kind. He took my page from me and read it, smiling – until the end.

“You’ve done well today. Combeferre, Jehan, thank you for coming.” He embraced his friends as we stood 

“It was nothing.”

“A pleasure. Goodnight, Joleigh.” Jehan hugged me tightly, and I returned it gratefully.

“Until tomorrow.” Combeferre, nodded, but I wasn’t going to take that as a parting. I leapt on him, throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing tightly.

“Goodnight Combeferre!” I exclaimed. He patted me on the back lightly, making a sort of wheezing noise. I retreated into Enjolras’ arms so our friend could get his breath back.

“Well, that was – delightful.” Combeferre coughed. The rest of us laughed, Enjorlas wrapping a strong arm around my waist. Jehan handed Combeferre his coat and the two left our flat. When the door was firmly shut, I spun around so I was facing my fiancé. He looked down at me with delight in his eyes.

“So, how did I do?” I asked. Enjolras chuckled 

“Very well. We must go to bed.” I brushed my hand through his golden curls and cupped his warm cheek in my cold palm.

“Yes, we must.” I kissed him gentle, capturing his hitched breath. I hummed with delight. When I pulled away, he looked stunned. I could feel the color rushing to my cheeks. “I’m going to clean up. You go get ready. 

“Okay, don’t take too long.” He smirked and headed for the bedroom. I went back the desk, and instead of clearing it, I sat down and dipped the quill again 

…But that is all in the past. I have a good life now, and many new friends; Marius to add to the list of men, but also Anise, Étoile, and Éponine. I have a family again. And I found love. Enjolras. Although there have been strains in our relationship, we’ve pulled through. I’m engaged and I love him with everything in my heart. I wish that everyone could share in this happiness; so many people in Paris are not as fortunate. Maybe this is one of the reasons for the plans of revolution. The one Enjolras and the other shave been planning – but that is the future and this is my story. I just hope they do not collide…

“Ma chère?” Enjolras called to me from the bedroom, the light shining daintily from the room.

“I’m coming.” I quickly cleared the desk and washed the quill. Changing into my nightgown I jumped into our rickety bed and let myself be wrapped in his arms.   

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Wow, I really do not like writing in first person...Like AT ALL.

Eugh...not my best, but I don't mind! I had a lot of spare time on my hands today, so I thought 'what a good time to start'! 

So, that's probably why this is so long :P 

Anyways; I ABSOLUTELY LOVE how many people are joining this crusade, it's beautiful...Just bringing tears to my eyes! So I kinda had to join myself :3

See you tomorrow! (Or you'll be reading me! ;) Okay that sounded way different in my head)

-Kat/Grantaire xxx