Quick and Painless: A Satirical Reimagining of the Invention of the Guillotine

May 6, 1792

May 6, 1792

My dearest, Lonnie,

Yesterday, Antoine couldn't decide if he wanted to help Anaïs or not. He must've decided. Because when I woke up this morning, she was sitting in the kitchen drinking chicken broth and crying. Antoine was on the other side of the room, oblivious, reading.

I didn't know what to say at first. It was a strange thing to walk into. So, I watched Anaïs sob gross bubbly sobs a slurp liquid hen.

I questioned my life at this moment.

I don't think I blinked until Étinne showed up behind me. He put a hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "I thought there was a dying dog in the house."

He paused and stared at Anaïs, "What the hell is this?"

"Mon ami, this is Hell."

Étinne was followed by Romeo, who was much louder.

"Anaïs!"

The child ran to the crying woman, hopped on her lap, giving her a hug. Anaïs' bowl of broth was set down on the table, and she awkwardly held his waist.

After a moment, Romeo looked up at Anaïs' face and squinted, "Why are you sad?"

She sniffled and shrugged like she didn't know, "I had a long past few days..."

"Oh," Romeo pouted, "Don't be sad."

Anaïs held him close like a child holds a stuffed bear, causing my face to grow hot and allowed parental jealousy to soar through my body.

I stepped into the room, somewhat noisily, Étinne right behind me. Anaïs' head shot up, and she loosened her grip on Romeo. Looking at me with wide, frantic eyes, "Bonjour, An-Andreas," she stuttered.

"When did you get here?" Étinne questioned.

"Oh um..." she started.

Antoine finished, standing up with an old man groan, "Calm down, boys. I paid her bail this morning, gave her some soup, and listened to her cry for an hour without stopping. It was remarkable, really, the amount of tears in a girl her age. She must be incredibly hydrated."

I cut him off, knowing he could go on about hydration for hours, "I understand how she got here. I suppose the real question is: why is she here?"

"Why not?" he shrugged, "I don't trust a home without a woman."

"You shouldn't say that!" Anaïs said, tearfully, "women are doing wonderful things right now. They don't have to be housekeepers."

Antoine looked around, "well, legally, they can't be anything else."

Anaïs thought about it for a moment and then settled with the facts, "That's true, but that doesn't mean it's not unfair."

Murmurs of agreement echoed through the room. I'm sure there will be a more in-depth talk of feminism later, but the sidetracked sentence exchange would do for now. There were bigger things to worry about, such as the woman who was in jail yesterday sitting in the kitchen.

"Going back to the Anaïs situation..." I started.

Anaïs dried her tears and began talking, "Antoine paid my bail. He said that I am good to keep around because I am insane. He wants to keep me close for study purposes."

"And the fact that you're a woman purposes," Antoine added in. We ignored him

Étinne frowned. I couldn't tell if he was confused or remorseful, "You're being used as a science experiment?"

Tears fell down Anaïs' face as she nodded.

Étinne's confused remorse turned into anger; he shot dagger-like eyes at Antoine, "Is that why you hired her? To study her?"

Antoine carelessly made a face, "Oui. Why?"

"Do you know how messed up that is? She's a human, not an experiment!" Étinne was yelling now. Anyone with common sense knows why. Some rules come with respect. Treating other people like people is one of them. Once it's broken, you lose trust, honor, and admiration.

I glared at Antoine. I still didn't like Anaïs. At least she knows the difference between a human and a puppy that you test killing machines on.

And Antoine laughed.

He giggled like he was the only smart person in the room, "You all aren't seriously mad, are you?"

"Oui, we are."

The old man rolled his eyes, "It's not like she's the only one."

"What?"

"What?"

"What do you mean, not the only one?" All three adults said simultaneously.

Antoine Louis laughed again, "No one in their right mind would hire people like you. Freaks!"

I frantically motioned for Romeo to come to my side. He didn't know why, but he did so anyway."

Antoine continued, pointing at my child and smiling, "Romeo was two years old when I hired you. A baby. A brown skinned, big eyes, son of a whore baby. Andreas, you had a child with a woman of color, knowing you should be killed for it. You think Anaïs is insane. You treat her like she's not even human. At least she has judgment. She knows basic survival skills."

I was frozen, ice cold. I was at a loss for words, and I wasn't quite sure why. I held Romeo back with both hands and stuttered, "I love Lonnie. I don't care what she looks like, that's not fair."

"Hense, you are insane, and deserve to be studied by a doctor," Antoine stated.

Antoine turned to Étinne, "Étinne, you're not insane."

Étinne pulled his shoulders back defensively, "Do you expect a 'thank you?'"

"Kinda. But I know you won't give me one. I hired you, a normal man living with his wife and father, and gave you all the world's chores—a mansion for you to clean by yourself. Not to mention my crazed mistress to take care of. You were a normal man to start with but soon became... clumsy and stupid. You were put under pressure, and you broke. I tested to the human limit on you."

Anaïs banged her hands on the table and stomped to her feet, "You Donkey!" she screamed before running upstairs, slamming doors and throwing stuff as she went.

It took Antoine years to gain my trust and five seconds to break it.

Romeo's face scrunched, and he started crying. Étinne grabbed his hand, and the two of them walked away.

I couldn't.

I stared at Antoine, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. Even as I write this letter, I'm too shocked to find words for what I feel.

Antoine stared back.

He spoke, "Andreas... not telling you everything is not the same as lying. I have morals. I don't lie," his voice got deep, "And I never ever break a promise."

I think I believe him. I can't fathom, not believing him. Because he made me a promise.

He promised that I would see you again.

I can't fathom that being a lie.

Eternally yours,

Andreas Moreau