~when.it.ends [Danny]

Lost in the midst of dreaming, it was both a cruel and wonderful deed to snap the girl back to the present. A callous move to wake the girl from such splendor and warmth. For a time Eponine actually thought herself safe surrounded by four walls and warmed by a fire that was not held by an old rusty trash can. For a handful of minutes Eponine was beyond the warehouses and in luxury and comfort. She could feel the wool around her arms, sealing in the warmth, and the heat on her face as the fire flared up. Always a lucid day dreamer, she could feel every detailed and to be dragged out of it so abruptly hurt.

"Hey, are you okay?"

At the mere sound of a voice, Eponine's eyes flew open, her muscles tensed and body prepared to jump up, grab her little belongings and bolt down the passageways that crisscrossed the abandoned industrial section. Peacekeeper? No, the voice is too young, too gentle. Dark eyes finally focused on the source of the sound and was surprised at what it found. A young girl, even younger than Eponine, was standing there. Her face framed with a halo of yellow hair that seemed to glow in the dim dusk light. In her hands was a grocery bag- cartons of milk making an appearance at the top, poking out of the opening. The thought of the stuff made Eponine's mouth water but she wasn't about to demand anything from this girl. She had to find her tongue to say anything first.

"Uh," stuttering out gibberish, that's when it became apparent that this disruption was not only an annoyance but a gift. Perhaps this girl may help her? A sip of milk, a crumb of bread- anything to silence the gnawing in her stomach. Even if all the girl had to give was her company- Eponine would except it gratefully. She needed it. Anything. She needed food for her body to go on, but also an ear to listen to keep her mind going too. Finally, the words came to her lips and, surprisingly, they were raw with honesty. "No... I'm not okay,"

"What's wrong?" Eponine could tell the girl meant well by the question, after all it was a simple request. What's wrong? So easy, but when you actually try to answer it it becomes the hardest theory in the world. What is wrong? Why are you alone in an alley? Why are you so bone skinny? Are you cold? Are you starving? Why are you dirty? The questions went on and on.

How did Eponine end up here? Growing up her childhood had been less than perfect but compared to her current situation it was a safe haven. Two parents, a warm bed, water for bathing and food on the table. She didn't know that all this was paid for by her parents running a ring that smuggled in alcohol from other Districts. The day she did find out was the morning they took them. Men in white uniforms with shiny black boots. There was something about that suit that made the men and women of the Peacekeeper force look so intimidating. White was supposed to be angelic, wasn't it? White shirts on Reaping day. White dresses for your wedding. She could hardly look at the color, it was so bright. Instead her eyes shifted to their boots. The truth was displayed there. Hard, sturdy things made of leather, stained with mud and blood.

The officers took her mother and father away and, despite them never being the picture perfect parents, Eponine had cried. They were not the kind to hold her after a nightmare or take care of her at home when she had a fever but they were her parents. They had given her life and that had to count for something... right? A women in the same uniform of white and black had taken Eponine and Gavroche to the community home. A grungy, horrible place she hoped she'd never have to return to.

There were children everywhere. Kids of all ages from newborns to eighteen year-olds itching to leave after their final Reaping. The place was dirty, as evident from the smears on the faces and clothing of the children who occupied it, but there was a scary sense of order. Each bed was made, all personal belongings hidden from sight under the frame or stuffed in the child's pillow. Each orphan stood at the end of their bed, back straight, eyes front and feet together as the woman in her crisp clean uniform walked between the ranks.

"Meals are served on the hour everyday at the same times- seven, noon and six. Don't be late or you won't be fed. Lights out is eleven. If you're caught up after that time expect punishment. Respect, order, and quiet. That is what we expect," the woman left the room leaving all the kids to their own devices. All of the children slouched, the weight of living there evident on their shoulders and in the bags under their eyes. The older kids dragged their feet back to their beds to read or do homework. Some just stared at the wall. The little ones were more fidgety, whispering in hush tones and pulling out the toys they had stashed away in their pillows. Gavroche wandered away to a group of boys about his age. They were in a circle playing some game that involved making hand signs to each other regulated by unsaid rules Eponine did not know. Her brother tried to shove himself into their circle, asking what they were playing in a voice that was much louder than the ones any of the other kids in the room was using. All eyes turned on him and Eponine. Fresh meat. Outsiders.

That was when she knew they had to leave.

Only she hadn't realized that living out on the streets would end up so lonely and as tragic as it had. It had been okay the first few months. She had her brother and she was a new face to all the shop owners near by. However there comes a time when even generous souls become sick of the same face begging at their back door.

What's wrong?

Everything. Her life. Her choices. Everything she has done was wrong. They should have stayed, they shoulder have stuck together, they should have stolen something- all her decisions had been the wrong ones to make out here in the cold.

Unable to bring the actual words to her lips, Eponine dissolved into tears. Silent tears. She had learned that at the community home- never cry aloud, the others will hear. The others will know how weak you are.