Disclaimer: I don't own "The Count of Monte Cristo," its characters, or the dialog in this piece. All these items belong to Alexandre Dumas (author of the orginal novel), Jay Wolpert (screenwriter), and Buena Vista Home Video, who created the 2002 movie (I'm not sure who it was, sorry!), etc. Please don't sue; I'm only borrowing this terrific scene. This is nonprofit, I make no money.
Author's Note: This little (I mean LITTLE! It's only 410 words) piece is based off the 2002 movie. Please don't yell at me for not reading the book, it is on my reading list, which is about as long as the Nile River, and only growing longer. Please enjoy. Reviews, criticism, and even flames are loved! This piece was originally going to be PG but because one word that Fernand used in the movies that I had to repeat, I had to up it to PG-13.You'll probably see more of these teeny pieces from me because I'm doing these as exercises in order to expand and help my description of a person's emotions. Thanks for reading!
"Now I must explain to you, who you really are," Mercedes whispered, "You are the son of Edmund Dantes, the man you know as the Count of Monte Cristo." The words thundered in my ears. My son? Albert was my son? How? But, and then the realization of it all clicked in my head. Of course. The night we had spent on the rocks together had left Mercedes with child. That was the reason she ran off to marry Fernand right after I was taken. She had been trying to save herself and our son from disgrace.
I had a hard time swallowing as I looked at the boy. I had almost killed him! My hate for Fernand had nearly led me to kill Mercedes son. My son. Albert whipped around to look at me and I wanted to apologize but no good would come of it, I knew this. His lips quivered in pain and shock and I wanted to comfort the boy, but how could I? I had been ready to kill him. To get to Fernand. This was where my hate and vengeance had taken me. The priest had been right.
Albert's voice trembled as he turned to Fernand, "You let me fight him?" His voice was trembling with hurt and pain. The idea that Fernando had known who Albert truly was didn't occur to me. It didn't surprise me either.
"Your living proof that you mother was as much of a whore now as in her younger years." Fernand snapped.
I pushed Mercedes behind me. "I want no more of this," I truly did not. I had a family now. A woman who loved me and me alone and a son. A beautiful son, who was smart, kind, and very brave. I felt the shame burning in my cheeks for the way I had used the boy. I argued to myself that I hadn't known who he was, but I knew, within my heart, that that was no excuse.
I had a life to look forward too and I refused to spend it without Mercedes and Albert, our son. The idea still didn't seem completely real, but it was and I knew it was. He was my son. Fernand lowered his weapon only to raise it again. I wouldn't beg for my life. God had taken away my life and was now giving it back to me. I refused to lose it again, especially to Fernand.
THE END