Important Author Notes:
-Flame if you really must, but intelligent and compassionate people write helpful and encouraging reviews!
-In truth this is a rough draft….not the final piece so please be gentle. hee hee
-It gets better later on…seriously, trust me. Truuuuust meeeee
-And none of this would have been possible with out my best friend, Silje, who is my angel of inspiration and muse! I love you sweetie, thanks for keeping me going!
Chapter1- Deepest urge of silence.
Kathy scrubbed at the wooden floor boards, her honey brown hair cascading in untidy, curls around her face. Carefully she went into every nook and cranny, watchful to clean away each speck of dirt. The longer she stayed in this room, the longer she was safer from Dawson, the young owner of the Opera house.
Rising to her feet; she stood much like a ballet dance and moved with grace, holding her posture high, she moved carefully to the large full scale mirror that was almost part of the wall she began to clean it. Letting the cold trickles of soapy water freely run down it.
As she washed she began to murmur a song she had been taught as a child, though she was not the best singer in the world, her tone was pleasant enough to listen to. Suddenly she stopped and froze as she was certain that she had heard a voice reply to her melody from the other side of the mirror.
She gently raised her hand and placed it against the icy mirror, somehow feeling as that a hand was mimicking her on the other side, their hands only a thin pane of reflective glass away. Looking to find only her own reflection she gave a sigh of disappointment.
Kathy was not stunning, infact she was rather plain, with uncared for rose lips and milky tea colored skin. Just as she leaned in a bit closer to the mirror, the door opened and slammed shut again. The noise made Kathy jump, and press her back against the mirror.
It was Dawson. The tall man, stood at the door with a malevolence glint in his cold steel eyes. His right had subtly clicked the key, locking the door. Kathy's breath caught in her chest. Not now.
'What are you doing alone in here Kathy?' he questioned, moving into the room slightly.
'I was just doing my work, Sir.' Kathy stuttered, her back still firmly against the mirror. She felt like a cornered animal.
He repeated in a cold voice. 'All alone?'
Ever since Kathy had turned sixteen Dawson had been harassing her in so. He had never actually raped her but had more beaten and abused her. She had come to the Opera house when she was seven years old; since her parents, who had both worked in the Opera house, had died she had been taken in by the Opera as a cleaner. But unfortunately the kindly theater owner who had taken her in died from an illness and the opera house to his heartless son Dawson.
Now she was 18 he had never given her a moment of peace. Before she knew it Dawson was in front of her, breathing his icy breath upon her neck.
'Remember our deal? You give me what I want and you can remain in the theater.'
A scared whimper escaped her throat and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the reality of what was happening. His icy cold lips began to kiss harshly at her neck.
'Please don't' she wept, though her pleas went unanswered to this cold and unfeeling creature. Kathy had never had the gull to fight back to Dawson, being far stronger then her. She bit harshly into her bottom lip, as his hands roamed around her waist. Bitterness for this man welled up inside her. 'I said don't!' She yelled, raising her hand to the level of her eye, she harshly slapped his pale cheek. It was the first action of defense she had ever inflicted against him.
Dawson stumbled back a bit, shocked at the attack. But his astonishment soon turned to fury. Seizing her wrist he brought back his own palm. Kathy turned her head away, her eyes shut, awaiting the ruthless swipe when Dawson seemed to freeze up.
Springing back, his eyes went wide with fear and focused upon the mirror. Without a single word he hurtled, fleeing from the room.
Kathy took in an uneasy breath of relief then weakly slumped to the floor, the cool of the mirror seeping through the back of her frayed dress. Tears fell freely upon her warm cheeks as her bottled up fear and emotions escaped her. It had been to close for comfort.
But what had scared Dawson away? For someone so strong and authoritative he had run as though he had seen a ghost, though his eyes had been focused upon the mirror.
Steadily she turned, raising her glazed amber eyes to the mirror. There, staring back at her was a tall daunting man. Smartly dressed in an entire black outfit apart from a white frilled shirt, and concealing half his face was a pure white mask.
She gave a quick startled gasp and scrambled backwards across the floorboards, not daring to turn her back upon the specter. The man followed her with his haunting gaze. Slowly he made an action, as if he didn't wish to startle her, he raised one of his hands, which wore a black leather glove and pressed it softly against the glass. He had been on the other side the whole time, listening and watching, Kathy knew it.
Her shock was subdued as his enchanting presence soothed her into a sensation of sanctuary. Kathy's curiosity took over as she found her self upon her feet and carefully walking back towards the mirror, although her mind screamed at her to run. She found herself powerless to resist this stranger.
The inches between them closed so quickly. She was unable to tear her gaze away from his enthralling, rich sea green eyes. They were filled with solitude and sorrow, yet held such authority.
Slightly unsure, she placed her hand against his, the cold sheet of glass between them. Pity flooded her emotions, pity for this poor man. He had rescued her from a fate which she had been dreading for nights. Her rose lips pulled up slightly into a thankful smile at him, and something in his deep eyes seemed to acknowledge this.
All of a sudden the door burst open, in the doorway was Miss Stiria, the head cleaner of the Opera House. 'What are you two doing sitting around?!' she snapped harshly at Kathy.
'Katherine, get back to cleaning this place won't wash it's self!' Kathy quickly leapt from the mirror and sprinted out of the room, to carry on her work. Just as she left, Kathy quickly turned to the mirror to see only her own reflection staring back at her. Had she been daydreaming or had she really seen the legendary Phantom of the Opera?
