Raw
© Black Tangled Heart
She held her breath, waiting for the rumbling in her stomach to quiet. The corset
that bound her chest and waist constricted her inhalation into shallow wisps.
Her temples ached from the tightness of the red coil of brittle curls that was
fashioned in a crown atop her head. The pain seared from her scalp, down her
neck and through her spine; resting at a burning spot near her lower back,
increasing the piercing in her raw chest cavity.
She fought to breathe, tasting metallic blood in her tender throat. It was a
torturous fire, but a high was emitted from the sensations of pain, which were
sliding through her mind and figure. She didn’t understand this euphoria; for
she knew that death would soon be upon her.
She saw the thundering crowd through blurry vision as she was raised by the
other courtesans to give the final performance of her life. The glittering,
jeering jewels fashioned on her purple costume only irritated her soul, while
the increasing waves of nausea stabbed through her mouth into the form of a
song.
“Kiss, hand; diamonds, best friend,” she purred through the gurgle of blood at
the base of her throat. As she was set down onto her bare feet, the high of
pain diminished. It was quickly replaced by anger at seeing the disgusting Duke
in the front row, with roses, nonetheless.
She wished with the whole of her aching, straining heart that Christian were
sitting in the Duke’s place. She envisioned his broad smile; the smile that
always gave her strength. ‘I’ve got to find the will to carry on’ she thought.
“Kiss,” she continued, through silken lips, her smooth lip colour
hiding the blood that stained them. “Grand, diamonds; best
friend.” She wheezed at this point, feeling her whole form tighten. Her
delicate hand fluttered up to her chest as she struggled to suck in a mouthful
of oxygen.
She thought of her penniless poet once again; his naïve kisses, his subtle
charm. She knew he was alone now, with a heavy heart. Satine felt like an
emotionless monster for shunning him. He was the one who had bent that bars of
the cage she had been trapped in…
“Men, cold,” she continued, desperately wishing for velvet wings to appear on
her delicate shoulder blades. “Girls, old. And we all
lose our charms in the end…” Airborne, she would break the chains that held her
down and escape into the misty night…If only Christian were there with her to
flee into paradise by her side…
The blue light that surrounded her gave her smooth, flawless complexion an
eerie glow. It was supposed to reflect her pride; but on the contrary, it
symbolized her ever-deepening sorrow.
Satine surveyed the expectant crowd and heard the thrum of voices behind her as
the joined in harmonizing song. The song was a blatant lie. She knew that a
diamond could never match how precious Christian was. She was aware that he
would never become emotionally frigid when her body withered and her hair
turned a ghostly white. She knew she’d never lose her gift of song, and her
love for the one who was nowhere to be seen.
Her piercing soprano called out for silence. It made her throat raw, but the
flesh soon became numb. Her heart felt like lead; it weighed both her shattered
soul and weary body down.
She shuddered momentarily, gasping for breath. She wished she could collapse
into Christian’s warm embrace; inhale his familiar scent of Absinthe and
tobacco mixed with sweat and a fragrance that was his own; the one she clung to
like her life’s last breath…
No matter what happened tonight; on that stage, she’d be with him until the end
of time. “Come what may…” she whispered softly, choking back a bubble of blood.
She felt herself being lifted up by greedy hands, eager to prod at her weak
bones and bruised flesh. “Diamonds are a, diamonds are a, diamonds are a,
diamonds are a, diamonds are a…” her vocal chords propelled the song
mechanically through the crimson fluid in her throat. When the heavy pattern of
diamonds was set upon her chest; her breath flew away like the dove she longed
to be.
She felt her feet touch the stage, and Harold’s beefy arms surround her fragile
shoulders. Even when she was drowning in pain that he was oblivious to, the
familiarity of his embrace wrapped her in a tiny shard of comfort.
“Girl’s…best…friend…” Her chest burned.
“She is mine,” Harold’s voice echoed over the crowd. Satine saw the horrific
Duke mirror Zidler’s words.
Her fragile heart instantly shattered. As the red velvet curtain fell, the
pieces of her soul tumbled down into the depths of oblivion.
~*~
The cold vial was full of bitter liquid. Marie’s
fingers wound themselves soothingly through Satine’s brittle hair. “A bit more
for me lovey, there you go...” she coaxed the young
woman. The dressing room was bright, but it seemed to darken the little hope
Satine had left. The Hindi wedding gown had been wrapped tightly around her; it
might have well been a dress made of chains. It was a symbol of her
enslavement, her bind to the underworld.
Her cerulean gaze caught the reflection of the one she truly loved. She saw the
pain scrawled across his face as though he had actually spoken the words of
grief.
“I’ve come to pay my bill,” his voice was solemn and grey; it held an
undercurrent of malice that scared her. Her heart beat so violently that she
was afraid of it bursting right through her brittle ribcage. It couldn't be her
Christian, so icy and callous.
Satine drew in a sharp, painful breath and advanced towards him, fixing her
flawless face into an expressionless façade.
“You shouldn't be here Christian,” she breathed. “Just leave.”
Christian’s face took on a quality that made him appear to have just swallowed
a mouthful of venom. The fire came out in his words. “You made me believe that
you loved me,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. “Why shouldn't I pay you?“
“Please,” Satine begged, wishing more than anything to wrap him in her arms and
passionately kiss away all his pain…It made her memory of their first kiss
resurface. His lips delicately, even nervously pressing against her lush mouth,
seeming to soak up her exuberance and grace, His naïve fingers weaving an
unknown pattern across her back as they melted together…
She brushed past Christian, not daring to meet his unflinching gaze. He
followed her as she swept down the corridor. Tears blurred her vision as she
fought with every ounce of strength just to breathe…
She turned to face him with horror in her azure eyes. His voice was unfamiliar,
dripping with bitterness. “You did your job so very, very well...” Satine
cringed at the words that followed. “Why can't I pay you like everyone else
does?”
“Please Christian, that’s not why, just leave...” Satine shook violently, blood
flooding her throat like a river of pain and malicious torture. She raised her
tear stained face, only to see the Duke’s manservant; he held a gun in his
thick hand. “Go,” she pleaded him, her voice filled with poignant urgency.
“Please go...”
Warner advanced toward them with a triumphant grin on his face; amused by
Satine’s complete hysteria. The writer would cease to exist in mere seconds.
The ferocious man drove a panic-stricken Satine and tormented Christian towards
the stage…
Through her pain-washed view of Christian, she saw his mouth open and heard the
desperation tumble from his cracked lips. “Let me pay! Let me pay! Tell me it
wasn't real!” he raged. “Tell me you don't love me!”
Satine helplessly let out a wail of frustration and pain.
“Tell me you don’t love me!” Christian’s strangled cry rang in her ears.
“Christian!” she sobbed; struggling to suck in breath.
Her chest felt as though it were aflame.
“Tell me you don’t love me!”
Just when she thought her situation couldn’t worsen, she found herself exposed
beneath the hot lights of the stage. She could have been a naked foetus on that platform; she was just as defenseless.
The white gossamer lace wedding gown and smeared makeup only stripped away her
façade to depict how fragile she really was; like glass.
Satine didn’t hear Zidler’s unnaturally loud words of
shock. The only thing that registered was the pile of francs beside her and
snatches of Christian’s choked realization of false truth…he finally had come
to terms with the lies she told him in order to save herself…The tears in his
voice made her heart burst. How could she have been so completely selfish?
“This woman is yours now,” he gestured to her, his features distorted with
agony. She gazed up at him; her lips trembling and bloodstained,
her eyes watery and her skin papery. “I've paid my whore.” He choked on the
final word: ‘whore’. She was nothing more than that. “I owe you nothing.” He
shut his eyes tightly. “And you are n-nothing to me. Thank you for curing me of
my r-ridiculous ob-obsession w-with love.”
Christian let out a final primal wail and stumbled off the extravagant stage.
Satine rested her cheek against the stage and heard Zidler’s
words close to her ear.
“Pumpkin, it's for the best,” he tried to assure her. But her heart knew she
couldn’t live without him. The show would only drag her misery on. “You know it
is. The show must go on.” She caught Christian’s watery gaze, feeling the tears
flow mercilessly down her pale cheeks. She shook her head violently, trying to
shut off the bright, jeering light and make the crowd dissolve. She wanted to
forget the show and just fly away…
She felt Zidler’s burly arms enclose her frail body
in warmth. He raised her up and proclaimed: “And now my bride, it is time for
you to raise your voice to the heavens and say your wedding vows!” Satine
helplessly watched Christian stride towards the theatre’s exit.
There was a shout from above, like all the angels in the mythical clouds of
heaven had heard Satine’s plea.
“The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!“
Satine’s withered soul brightened just the tiniest bit at those words. Using
what strength she had left, she let her voice ripple over the crowd.
“Never knew I could feel like this,“ she began, barely
trusting her own voice. “Like I've never seen the sky before,” with each word,
her song became stronger, fuelled by her love for the penniless poet. “Want to
vanish inside your kiss. Every day I'm loving you more
and more…” Christian turned at the words of truth, and Satine’s blemished
spirit began a steady climb to ecstasy. She rose up and stretched out her pale
ivory hand toward him, ready to embrace him warmly. “Listen to my heart, can
you hear it sing?” she asked him, watching with glorious anticipation as love
filled his eyes.
”Come back to me and forgive everything!” She wheezed, pressing a hand to her
stark white chest. “Seasons may change, winter to spring,” she found her voice
and sang sweetly, loving the way the beautiful words caressed her tongue. “But
I love you,” she whispered. “Until the end of time…”
“Come what may,” Christian broke in, directing the audience’s attention to his
enthralling voice and the movement of his figure towards the open arms of the
woman he loved. Satine sighed with blissful relief.
“Come what may…come what may…come what may…I will love you…“ Christian
continued, his voice swelling with passion as each
word escaped his lips.
“I will love you,” Satine’s voice blended with his. Tears formed in her blue
eyes again, but these were joyful tears. “Until my dying day…” Christian joined
his love on the stage and swept her frail body up into his arms.
"CWISTIAN!”
Christian couldn’t reply, the response from the crowd
of spectators was too deafening. Through the laughter of the audience,
Christian and Satine continued to join in song as they were lifted high above
the crowd; their arms outstretched; their souls were bare, raw, full of love. When they were set down, fragrant rose petals
fell around their bodies. Satine’s smile was genuine for the first time in so
long…
She could see the Duke stampeding like a rabid dog/elephant hybrid towards the
stage; gun in hand. Worry vanished from her mind when Zidler’s
fist connected with the Duke’s nose, sending the gun sailing through glass, and
Satine’s spirit up high…
The curtain fell with a magnificent swish of glory.
Pain shot through her; a fire she had never experienced before in her whole
life. Her body felt as through it were being torn apart, cell by cell, strand
by strand. She felt her knees give in and her choking gasp echoed inside her
mind. Her weak body sank to the depth of the stage. Death was to be embraced
and welcomed in a state of such torment…
“Satine?” Christian choked. “Darling,
darling, what’s the matter?” He fell to his knees with a raw throat. His
tears fell like blood onto Satine’s chilled skin. He kissed her bloodied lips,
his dark hair brushing across her cheeks. Satine’s vision was blurry; she gasped, the noise wretched and black.
“I'm sorry Christian,” she whispered, the blood bubbling in her throat. She
fought to pull in oxygen. She felt as though her lungs were made of lead. “ I-I- I'm dying… I'm so sorry…” She couldn’t force out any
more apologies. Keeping her eyes open was a struggle. She let out a shallow
breath of regret, wishing she could live past this moment…
“Shhh…” Christian soothed her, even though the tears
were streaming steadily down his beautiful face. “You'll be all right, you'll be all right…”
“I’m cold,” Satine told him, her voice smeared with the gurgle of blood and
barely audible. “Hold me…”
“I love you,” he moaned, rubbing his nose and lips against her ashen skin,
desperate to return colour and life to her cheeks.
Her lips were right next to his ear, but he could hardly hear her words.
“You've got to go on Christian.”
“C-Can't go on without you,” he sobbed, his body shaking violently as he
watched his love’s breath slipping away.
“You've got so much to give…tell our story Christian.” Her memory was flooded
with the warmth of his touch, their laughter and love…She could feel his arms
around her as they swayed on the dance floor; she could taste the absinthe that
lingered on his lips as they whispered and kissed one another in the dark…She
felt whole in his arms, priceless when they made love, beautiful when he
caressed her cheek…she felt alive…
And now she was moments from death…
“No,” he whispered. That was the last word she’d ever hear fall from his lips.
“Yes, that way, I'll always be with you…” Her azure eyes closed, the pale
lashes brushing against her cold skin. Her spirit slid from her lifeless body
and rose easily, up high above the crowd. She saw Christian sobbing within the
bed of white and scarlet rose petals, clinging desperately to her corpse,
kissing her frozen lips while the audience let thunderous cheers fill the
theatre…
“I’ll always be with you, Christian…”