After four months, Éponine still hoped she would wake up in her bed. Or any bed that was actually above the floor for that matter. With a yawn, the fourteen year old girl stood up, thinking that maybe it was a good thing not to own mirrors anymore. She would not see her reflection on them anyhow, all she saw lately when she stumbled upon the moderately clean windows or the puddles of rain water, was a filthy young lady who was no less of a stranger than the average men she saw walking down the streets. She, on the other hand, was Éponine Thérnadier, the girl who had once owned mirrors and a matching reflection to inhabit them, who had had a house and a real bed, who wore colorful dresses, dresses that made other girls turn their heads, dresses that actually fit her.

That actually fit, Éponine thought, standing up, watching how her dress slipped down her shoulder, exposing a greenish bruise. She fixed it quickly, as the sudden growling of her stomach reminded her that a good dress wasn't all she missed. As she stretched her back, the fourteen year old girl noticed that the piled blankets where her siblings slept where empty. As she walked out of the room and into the next one, she thought that at least their apartment was fine. The complex, located in a two story building nicknamed "La perle", was far from being the inn, but it wasn't that bad either. There was the main room where the stove was, next to a small wooden table with only two chairs, her parent's room where there was a real bed, which she was tempted to use, if only her mother didn't spent most of the time inside the complex, and their room, with three little lumps made of rags and blankets near the walls for them to sleep, or at least try to.

Éponine made her way out as she untangled her dark hair with her fingers. She greeted her sister, who was sitting on the table, nibbling on a piece of hard bread, and her mother who was sweeping the floor. It was more a habit than a real necessity, for sweeping was not much cleaning, bur relocating the dirt. But Madame Thérnadier was used to cleaning the floors in the morning, and as she grabbed the broom, she often let her tongue loose, immersing herself in long and exhaustive monologues about her husband's stupidity or the neighbor's or her son's.

The fourteen year old girl sat at the table, avoiding her little sister's gaze. Azelma would probably notice the dark rims under her eyes, and she would know Éponine had been crying, again. With one quick movement, Éponine grabbed a piece of bread, thinking it would be easier to break a glass with it than eat it. As she began scraping the bread with her teeth, Éponine noticed Azelma's eyes on her.

"What are you looking at?" Éponine asked brusquely.

"Nothing" The eleven year old replied, raising her hands defensively.

"Sorry," Éponine sighed rubbing her temples "it was a long night. Did you get any sleep?"

"Some" Azelma replied, Éponine noticed her little sister had been scratching her head violently, so much that there was probably blood under her finger nails by now. It was probably lice, Éponine thought, she would see if she could find something for that today. Neither could say anything else, before the door shook with knockings, so loud it seemed the whole apartment would fall down.

"For the love of- Éponine, open that door before your father wrecks the whole place!" Madame Thérnadier commanded.

Éponine swallowed the piece of bread that was left, fearing it would get stuck in her throat forever, and walked towards the door. But once she opened, she was surprised when, instead of her father, she found three strange men. Truly strange. Two of them where probably the biggest men she had seen, both taller than the door's frame, with tanned skin and a tattered chemise whose rolled sleeves showed a set of thick arms covered with dark blue tattoos. Éponine didn't recognize a single word written in the bluish ink, but she thought one could write the whole bible on those monstrous arms. And standing between the two beastly men was the third one, thin, tall, well dressed with a top hat that he removed before talking to her, exposing white hair with a balding spot on the back.

"Yes?" Éponine frowned.

"Good morning, lovely girl" The fancy man with the white hair smiled "You must be his daughter."

"I thought Thérnadier said she was a kid." One of the muscular men said with a smirk, as his eyes scouted Éponine, from her forehead to her feet "but this is a woman alright."

"There'll be time for that later, Vincent," The old man continued "for now, young lady, could you tell us if your daddy's here?"

Before Éponine could reply, her mother stepped forwards, and told her to go back inside. The fourteen year old girl obeyed, but watched closely from the table.

"He ain't here" Madame Thérnadier replied, placing her hands on her hips. "So you can leave now."

"Well, if you see your husband madame, would you kindly tell him that frère Jacques is looking for him?"

Without replying, madame closed the door. "That bastard's done it now! I told him, I told him to stay away, but that idiot wouldn't listen, he never does." Madame continued, sweeping so violently Éponine thought she would break the broom.

"Who was that?" Azelma whispered.

"I don't know" Éponine whispered back, she then looked around "Is Gavroche out already?"

"I think he might be downstairs." Azelma replied.

"I'll check."

Their downstairs neighbors were the proud owners of a fully functional bathtub, which they rented to anyone who had the money to pay for a bath. They often went downstairs, and when their neighbor was cheerful he sometimes let them use the bathtub with no charge. Éponine knocked on the door once and waited silently for it to open.

"What?" It was the owner's wife, a robust woman who frowned immediately "You know the rules, no money, no bath, don't make me waste my time, now get out of here."

"I just want to know if my brother's here, the blond boy."

"He's not." The woman replied slamming the door in Éponine's face.

Éponine cursed the woman silently as she walked out of La perle and into the streets. A sudden smell of urine struck her, making her wrinkle her nose as she walked. The city was so monstrous, she still thought of it as the open set of jaws of a wild animal, ready to close at any moment and swallow her completely. But she didn't have to look around for a long time, soon she came upon the blond boy, seated on the edge of the sidewalk.

"There you are." Éponine said, frowning as she noticed his bare feet. "What happened to your shoes?"

"They took them just now." The blond boy didn't look up as he replied.

"Who did?"

"Those stupid kids." Gavroche said, looking away. Éponine noticed the seven year old boy's eyes were puffy and red. "I don't want him to scold me for losing them."

"Father ain't home right now, c'mon." Éponine replied, then offering her back "Hop on."

"Were those the same kids who threw you the rocks the other day?"Éponine asked, carrying her brother.

"They're always on my back, ´Ponine. I've done nothing to them, I swear! But they're after me all the time. I go out and they start yelling 'cul-terreux' and they say 'cul-terreux, why's your mama so ugly, cul-terreux are your mama and papa brothers, is that why you're so stupid, cul-terreux?' "

Éponine was silent for a moment, as her brother continued.

"Sometimes I wish I could just beat them all, shoo them away for good."

"I understand, truly, but we have to resist, we're not savages, we're better than most of the folk around here, we don't beat others, not us."

Her advice ringed in her own ears. How could she expect her brother to listen, if she didn't follow it? Walking around, looking like that, she certainly wasn't making an effort to resist the streets. And just as they walked home she clenched her fist and smiled.

"Today I'll buy a new dress." She declared, proudly. "We'll get you new shoes, and a new dress for Azelma, you know why?"

" Because we're not savages?"

"Exactly."

Hello, welcome and thank you for taking a look!

Aren't the Thérnadier fascinating? That's why I wanted to portray a part of their lives, as they transitioned from running the inn to living in the slums, but still before living at Gorbeau House. I imagined their lives had to be very challenging, before they all got used to surviving in the streets. The story will be based on the musical and movie, but I did include Azelma because for some reason the family didn't seem complete to me without her.

A note from future me: this story ended up being darker than I expected. Due to domestic violence and abuse, I've changed the rating to M.

Please feel free to leave any comment, opinion, critique, insult, idea, suggestion, threat, or correction, just anything you wish. The comment section belongs to you!

Les Misérables belongs to Victor Hugo, of course.

Thank you again for taking a look and I hope you enjoy the story!

Greetings from Colombia