Becoming Eponine *A Les Misérables Story*

Dream Four

The picture is Brennyn Lark, the new and fantastic Eponine on Broadway. I have heard her recordings and she is simply incredible. She also just started and got a Bway part before she was even out of college so Congrats!

The streets seem silent. From the atmosphere and resemblance I expect the poor to burst into song. A melancholy and specific song about their life that I was very familiar with. And couldn't stop making references to. Eponine is dressed like one of the wretched poor, her dress is tattered and frayed. Yet, she keeps her head held high as the other wealthy people do. They avoid her, they are careful not to swipe past her with their billowing silk dresses and they are careful to avoid her eye. Yet, even though they show the barest hint of respect towards Eponine, (probably for her strength,) they treat the other wretched awfully. I watch as a woman bedecked in satin kicks a rock towards a poor bony man who quivers as he reaches out, begging. A flame like rage courses through me at the sight.

"You're not from around here are you Athena?" Eponine asks me as she glances towards that poor man, her face oddly stoic, as if she was trying to suppress rage. I don't reply before she continues speaking. "This is why we want to fight! We're done being treated like slaves. Everything is messed up around here. The world is a cold, dark hell we either want to change that or leave this damned world." Eponine spat these words out with the strength and desperation of an army. Her words were armed with power, it struck me suddenly how much she seemed like Enjolras. It also struck me hard when I realized that the real version of Eponine was standing before me. Eponine was no lovesick minion, she was fierce and independent. I respected her even more. "Athena I know these men are upset with me for housing you. Obviously we can't bring every wretch of the street in." Her fierce brown eyes focused on mine. "You need to prove you have worth. You need to show you can fight, you need to impress these men. My own brother could only stay because he was clever, strong, and passionate. Gavroche proved his work and you must too. Do not let me down." Eponine's words were demanding and crisp.

"I would rather die than do so." I said, driving power into my voice, Eponine cracked a small smile.

Over the weekend my dreams were faint and quick. This frustrated me for I would be in the story for about thirty seconds before waking up. I had absolutely no idea why this happened but I was pleased my dreams were longer now.

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." She paused for a moment, "There is a chance you may end up fighting in this sad, bitter battle. Enj will not allow me to fight, but he may allow you. I however plan on disguising myself to fight. I will not allow all the people I love to die as I watch on the sidelines. I want to put as much importance into every death as possible. Afterwards the survivors will celebrate and mourn the dead. Whether I am watching from above or participating will show on that very day." I swallow hard and nod,

"I am honored and proud that I am participating. I will fight, for I do not want to watch them die. In time I hope they will become my family." My words were true. Though I'm afraid, I'm determined, even though I know how this will end. Though, I don't want to think about the end right now. If I die I wonder if these dreams will cease. If I live, I wonder if they will continue. If all my friends were to die I wouldn't want to continue these dreams. My stomach churns at the thought. I would have to join the poor on the street. I would live every dream in sadness and immense anguish. I would rather die in the battle. I could save Eponine's life, or Gavroche's or Enjolras'. I would never stay at the sidelines.

"Athena?" Eponine looks to me in question and I glance upwards,

"I'm grand." I say before she can ask any questions. She nods at this, we move through the streets, it seems as if everyone knows Eponine and they acknowledge me because of her presence.