Never Go Away (Les Miserables Challenge Attempt)

One Night Out

I pulled the window in my bedroom open, and rested my palms against the edge. The sounds of the beautiful Parisian streets had silenced into the night as most people had retired to either their own homes or to whatever ground they called a bed. I was one of the lucky ones. I had a place to call home, even if now and then it felt more like a prison. I had a loving family with a fair amount of money that was in good standings with the nobility of France. My life was as close to perfect as one could possibly get. I did not want to come off as selfish. Still, there was just something that was missing. It was something that I could not quite put my finger on. However, I was never quite able to put my finger on it.

I looked down, letting my brunette curls fall in front of my face. Did I really want to do this? Yes, I had to. I needed to have just one moment of liberation from all of it. I had thrown on a some of my brother's clothing that he had left here before moving out. Luckily, my brother was a wimp, so his clothing seemed to fit my frail composure nicely. It was dirty and not bright in the slightest. It was perfect. I did not want too much attention upon myself. I pulled my hair back into a long thin ponytail. My goal wasn't to be disguised, just unnoticable. I took in a deep breath, going over every last detail in my head. My parents were sleeping soundly, my door was locked, and to be safe I placed pillows under my covers to make it look as though I was sleeping. Being absolutely certain that my plan could go off without a hitch, I threw one leg over the window sill, followed by the other, and jumped out the window.

The jump is not much of an impact, considering I was only jumping from the first floor. I picked myself up, and looked up into the night sky. The moon was full and smiling down upon the pavement of Paris. I would have loved to take my time on such a glorious evening, and maybe take a leisurely stroll. However, I had a place I had been yearning to visit. My father had restricted me from ever going there due to the people who would hang around there. However, I had heard such amazing stories about the things that happened there, and I was eager to witness it first hand. Whether my fascination with the Cafe Musain was because of the stories I heard, or even simply because of the need for rebellion that every 18 year old girl like myself has burning within them. I needed this night. After that, I could live out my days as the prim and proper daughter that every leader of the national guard could dream of having. As a vagrant in the night, I meandered towards the forbidden cafe.

It was not long until the sign for my destination was right above my head. I heaved a big breath, letting the scent of my surroundings enter into my lungs. The feeling that had overcome me upon my journey was in a word glorious. I had no restrictions, no limitations, and the power to do as I pleased. My legs became heavy as I tried to shuffle inside to the cafe. Maybe it was this feeling of freedom that was making it so hard to move. Or perhaps the guilt of knowing that my parents would never approve. I shook off this feeling as best as I could. This was my night. I was not going to waste it thinking of consquences. That was for later. Letting out the breath I had seemed to be holding onto forever, I managed to get my feet to trudge into the cafe.

Have you ever had one of those moments that you wished you could capture,and save into the barracks of your mind? This was that moment for me. It was not that the moment was beautiful. It was simply a grungy cafe filled with a cast of unusual characters. It was the feeling that escapaded off of everything in the room. The passion and activity that seemed to buzz off the walls, and strike me like a stick. The feeling seemed to fill me up, and warm me up from cool night air. I loved it. Why would my father not want me in here? Looking around the room, I saw a group of young men gathered together, having some sort of discussion. Well, it was less of a discussion, and more of one man babbling on about revolution, while the rest of the men nodded their heads in agreement, only occasionally putting in their imput on one or two topics. Then, I remembered that this was where lots of men would come to discuss their ideas on revolution. And my father, being one of the heads of the national guard, would freak out if he knew I was even breathing the same air as these students. However, my father wasn't here. I could do what I wanted, so I decided to listen in on their meeting.

I sat in a booth near the group of men, and tried my best to listen in. As the words of their leader danced through my ears. My eyes began to water. Had I been so oblivious all this time? How could I not know of the struggles that the people of Paris were going through? My mind began to fill with thoughts of self-loathing. As I had been living this near perfect life, there were people struggling just under my feet, and i had done nothing to help them. I truly was a selfish human being. Well, not anymore. I pounded my fist against the table, and vowed to myself that things would change. I would be sure of it. Apparently, I had pounded my fist against the wood too fiercely, for now I had the group of men staring in my direction. I immeadiately looked down at my knees underneath the table to ignore their gaze. Listening to their parlor was one thing, but actually speaking with them was a whole other story.

The leader cleared his throat, "Excuse me madamosielle, is everything alright?" The sound of his voice did seem a tiny bit concerned, but it also seemed to be mixed with a hint of annoyance towards the disturbance of his meeting.

I looked back up towards the group of men, wiped away the tears in my eyes, and spoke softly. I responded shyly, "Nothing, I am just... Sick..."

One of the men shivered a bit, "Sick?Sick from what? Stay away from me if you have germs!"

I gained back my normal confidence, and spoke normally this time, "I'm not sick from something... Just sick... of something... Myself actually..."

Another man, who had had his lips connected to a bottle of wine the entire time I had been here, spoke to me, "Sick of yourself? How could that be possible?"

I shrugged, and advanced towards their table. I answered, "I was listening to you all, and it really opened my eyes... Which is a good thing, I have been walking around here with them closed for so long. It is hard to believe the state that France is in at the moment, and I was too oblivious in my life to see it."

The leader smiled softly at this. He spoke out to not just me, but to everyone, "This is what we are here for. We are here to open the eyes of the people of Paris. They need to realize what the leaders of this land are doing to everyone all over." Then, he turned his direction towards me once more. He asked, "What is your name?"

I held out my hand politely for him to shake it, "My name is Corina." He shook my hand politely, as did the others in the group. One of the men even pulled out a chair for me to sit in. I sat alongside them as the leader, Enjorlas, introduced me to the others. Their names were Grantaire, Couferyac, Combeferre, Joly, Jean Prouvaire (or Jehan as many of them called him), Feuilly, Bahorel, and Legsle. Enjorlas told me there was one more of them, but he had yet to arrive.

That's when I saw him.