I awoke to a dark gloomy day. Death was in the air in Paris these days. Today is the day my father is being executed. No one will tell me why, they always say I’m “too young” or that I “need to mature first.” I am 12 years old. I am mature. Every time I am getting close to being told they change the subject. They are holding the execution in the town square to scare people into not making the same mistake he did. I reluctantly got out of my old bed now a mess of a pale yellow comforter and a thin pink pillow. I slowly made my way down the corridor lined with two cement walls about three feet apart. I walked into the kitchen, “Bonjour Mama.” I said, discovering my mom pounding the remaining grain to be made into bread.
“Bonjour Abigail.” She replied not looking up from her hands now creating dough on the countertop before her. I noticed worry lines had started to form since yesterday.
“Mama, why is he being executed? What did he do?” I cautiously asked hoping for an answer. She stopped what she was doing and turned swiftly around. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly hoping I didn’t see.
She reluctantly answered, ”You aren’t old enough to know yet. I just want you to know, he didn’t do anything wrong. Your father is a good man. He just speaks his opinions.” She said this without looking directly at me, avoiding eye contact, my heart dropped.
“But mama I am old enough to know!” I said obliviously.
“No you aren’t you are only twelve!” She said while turning back around and continuing what she was doing. I thought I heard a sob but I could have imagined it. Too upset to ask any more questions I bolted out of the kitchen and to the front door. I stepped out my old creaky wooden door, which shut abruptly behind me and startled me a bit. We were bakers. We lived on the border where peasant land turns into noble land. I looked around at the busy streets to see shoppers with shopping bags running in and out of stores, people in a hurry carrying baked goods in little brown boxes, and people in such expensive things I have only dreamed of having.
I turned to my left and started walking along the cobblestone street. I dodged worried people lost in their own worlds. Everyone is worried now a day. With Maximillian, Oh my bad, I mean King Maximillian, in charge anyone who thinks badly of anything in anyway, gets sent to the guillotine. While walking I turned down a small alley, which is a short cut to Marie’s house, and I nearly bump into a guard. He has a miniature Guillotine that they all carry around now. He had it on the ground and is wrestling a man with dark black hair and a dirty slender face. His vibrant blue eyes were sending out help signals. I stood there frozen, scared to move.
The guard turned his head for a minute and saw me. He had a small mustache about the length of his small thin mouth. He had a nearly flat face except for his nose that had a bump in the middle. His dark chocolate brown eyes were stern but also kind at the same time.
“What are you doing here child!? Get out of here!” he screamed. To scared to protest I obediently turned around and ran back in the direction I was originally going. I stopped after a block or two to catch my breath and then calmly start walking again. My long curly brown hair fell astray from my pigtails and now were down to my belly button tangled together. Still breathing heavily I turn to my left and passed a few shops.
I over hear two women talking about something, “They say he is going to do it every Tuesday now” one woman said.
The other one replied in a surprised tone, “If he does it every Tuesday, he is gonna run out of reasons why; then there will be no one else to be sent to the guillotine.” The first woman nodded in agreement and that’s all I heard before they were out of sight and earshot. The streets were starting to empty out so I started to walk a little faster. As I was rounding the corner onto Marie’s block I slipped on some water and nearly fell into a puddle. I caught myself and only my hands got wet. Trying to make sure the tip of my pink floral dress didn’t get wet I slowly got up. I walked passed a few small houses made out of a dark red brick until I made it to the rather large house that Marie lived in.
I walked up to her door and knocked lightly. A little girl about shoulder height opened the door. She had a petite face and a small toothless smile. “Bonjour Caroline!” I exclaimed getting a little closer and pinching her cheek lightly. She giggled and walked in motioning me to follow as I walked on to the wooden floor of their house.
“MAR-RY” Caroline said trying to pronounce Marie’s name correctly. Marie came out giggling.
“Good job Caroline! You’re getting closer every day!” Marie said patting Caroline’s head that has a tiny curled blonde hair upon it. Caroline giggled and then waddled away toward another room. Marie’s light blonde hair that shined like sunshine was down to her waist. Her hair was super straight with a light tan color that shows up every once in awhile. She had grey eyes that looked like storm clouds, piercing straight at you with rose-colored lips and a small petite nose.
“Mom!” Marie yelled, “Abigail is here!” She then proceeded to walk towards me and hug me. Marie’s mom came out of the room Caroline walked in to. She was a little on the large side. A blue flowered dress hung down to her knees. Her golden blonde hair was about shoulder length.
“Bonjour Abigail.” Marie’s mother said.
“Bonjour Mrs. Dumont. How are you?” I asked sweetly.
“I am busy. Besides that I am doing well. Business is getting better and better. Less time to spend with Marie and Caroline. Luckily I have such a great daughter who helps me take care of Caroline.” She replied smiling at Marie.
Marie blushed, “Ok mom, Abigail and I are going to talk in my room.” She said. Her mom nodded understanding. Marie grabbed my hand and led me down a hallway to her room. Her room opened up. It was rather large, but plain and simple. She led me over to her bed where she had three dresses laid out.
“I don’t know what one I should wear! There are too many to choose from! How did you pick such a perfect dress?” Marie was saying very fast. She was referring to my simple pink dress that had a darker pink flower pattern on it, and white sleeves that puffed out. Marie kept going on and on, “It makes your green and hazel eyes pop! Seriously how did you pick the right one.”? She continued.
“Slow down Marie.” I said with a giggle. She stopped pacing around the room and talking and just gave me a look of thankfulness. I walked over to her bed and looked at the dresses she laid out for her to possibly wear. I picked up one that was a dark green that would go to about her knees. She looked at it and her eyes lit up. “See! You did it again! Picked out the perfect dress!” She said this excitedly while walking over to her closet to change in it. I sit down on her bed and in a minute or two she came out fully dressed and smoothing down the dress.
She looked up and asked, “Can you braid my hair?” I shook my head yes and patted the bed in front of me. She walked over and sat down, her back facing me, and her legs on her bed crisscrossing. I take her thick blonde hair and start weaving her hair into a perfect braid.
“Done.” I said after about ten minutes.
“Thanks Abigail.” She said then cringed back, “Now what are we going to do with your hair?”
I laughed; “I forgot about that!” huge grins grew across our faces as we burst out laughing. I took out the dark pink ribbons tying my hair back, and all my thick hair came down. I pulled all of my hair over my right shoulder and started braiding it intricately.
“Better!” Marie said with a sigh of relief. “Abigail. How do you feel about your father being killed?”
Everything drained from my face. I felt myself getting paler. Just as I was about to answer Mrs. Dumont walked in.
“Girls we need to start heading to Town Square it’s time for the execution.” She said grimly. I closed my eyes as a tear rolled down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it I let it fall. This is the last time I am going to see my father, and it is going to be of him headless. Mrs. Dumont walked into the room where I walked in, with Marie and I trailing right behind her. She walks over to Caroline and picks her up and settles her on her own hip. She heads to the front door and opens it.
“Let’s go girls.” She holds the door open and moves out of the way for Marie and I to go out. We start heading to our right. We can see the crowds of people exiting houses, shops, business, and heading in the same direction we are. Everyone was to attend the executions. All of our heads were held low, some people who knew my dad were crying. After walking straight for quite a bit of time we made it to a huge opening where crowds of people started forming. We got relatively close to the front.
There was a bunch of wood stacked next to the guillotine, creating a platform. All of a sudden you hear a horn sound and a group of soldiers came marching from the castle in front of us; six on each side. The last two soldiers were dragging my father in chains. His face was thinner and paler from the lack of food and sunlight in the dungeon. Last being carried in, what looks like a couch, was Maximillian Robespierre. The soldier’s split and the last walked over to the back of the guillotine. Maximillian used a scepter that was made out of solid gold with a sparkling red ruby on top. He banged it against his makeshift platform to get everyone’s attention.
Everyone fell silent.
“Hello my loyal subjects! Today we are all gathered to see the execution of André Fortier. Does anyone know why he is being executed?...No one? He wanted to start a counterrevolution. We all know how bad that is right? Right. You may think we will go easy on you. We have no mercy. If you want to try and change the way things are going. Know the consequences. Now before André’s head is gone, does anyone want to defend him?”
Before I had time to think my mouth opened and I screamed, “I do!” The confidence in my voice scared even me. You heard a joint gasp from the people around me and Marie’s face was struck with horror.
Out of nowhere I hear a scream, “No! Abigail! She didn’t mean it! She’s only a child!” It was my mom. I tried to swallow but a lump has formed in my throat.
“Ah, So you have something against this execution my dear?” He said this trying to be sweet but you could tell he was faking, “Guards! Arrest her!” two of the guards that filed in before, began walking towards me. My feet were seemingly glued to the ground; I stood there motionless and scared. People around me started crying. You can hear the clank of the armor hitting against each other, metal against metal. Before I knew it two arms attached mine to chains then started pulling me backward. A scream escaped my mouth.
As I was dragged passed the guillotine, I saw the long angular blade fall down. I heard the blade penetrate through the skin,and the bones crack as my father’s head fell off. Blood everywhere. It exploded out of his body to leave just a body, no head, covered in blood. You see the rugged broken skin from where the blade cut. All of a sudden I hear the sound of something landing from a fall. I look at the ground around me and too my right I find a head, my father’s head.
His dark sea green eyes were wide open, staring at me as I am being dragged. His head has blood everywhere, his hair, what used to be blonde is now mixed with the ruby red color of his blood. I could hear my heels drag along the cobblestone road. People tried protesting my arrest, or were even chasing after me, but the guards ignored them and continued bringing me back in the direction the originally came. After about a minute I was brought through a doorway into a dark room. The door closed loudly behind my freedom.
Thx for all the support!
Love you always,
Nicole DaisySinger
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