Unwell
Opening her eyes and squinting at the bright light, Christine groggily let out a low moan. Suddenly realizing she wasn't in the ballet dormitory, she sat up with a jolt. Looking around, the chorus girl frantically called for her friend Meg. Her cries fell on deaf ears, as it dawned on her; that she was in a strange hospital. The time crawled by as she looked for a way out, to no avail. It felt like hours had passed since she had woken up, and still no one came to let her out. Heaving a sigh, the girl sat down.. She would be for a while.
"All day staring at the ceiling, making friends with shadows on the wall.."
The Angel of Music always sang to her, lulling her into slumber. Tonight, however, there were no whispered songs... The next day, Christine woke up to find a plate of food at the end of her bed. It had a note, saying she would have guests in a short a amount of time. Sometime later, she was called out of the room for visitors. It was the Giry's. "Christine?" Meg cautiously spoke as if she Christine was a powder keg about to explode. "You know I'm not crazy, right Meg?"
Madame Giry soothingly said, "Not crazy.. Maybe just a little unwell."
Time seemed to fly when Christine spoke to her friends. It almost felt like she was back at the Opera Populaire's conservatory. But all good things must come to an end, and the sun must go down. After Meg and her Mother left, the Swedish soprano sighed sadly... Hoping for her Angel's comfort, and guidance, Christine started to sing. As the aria ended, she waited for her Maestro's critique. He was as silent as the stars in the sky. Thinking back to her time at the opera house made tears fall down the pretty girl's face. How she longed for those days! She was always the first one to wake up. After a sleepy yawn, Christine would watch the sun come up. Madame Giry would wake the rest of the girls up and feed them breakfast. And then the dreaded dance practice. Meg's mother expected perfection, and the girls would pliet and pirouette for hours on end. Always praying that they had held their forms up to Madame Giry's standards. Next, after rehearsals, it was time for La Carlotta's tantrum of the day. Christine and Meg took great pleasure in watching M. Reiure's exasperation. Sometimes Christine would hear her Angel's celestial words of wisdom during her daily tasks. She always responded diligently to his guiding voice. She knew that the rest of the girls talked about her. She had heard their whispers, and it made her think there was something wrong with her. But her Angel would reassure her that he was real, and that she wasn't mad. At night, when everyone was asleep, Christine would talk to the Angel of Music, and he would help her fall asleep. Thinking of Him brought Christine out of her memories. Saddened at her predicament, the young soprano cried out for her Angel.
It ha been four years since Christine had been deemed mad. Four years since she had arrived in this hospital. Three years since she last spoke to Meg, and Madame Giry. 4 years since she had been visited by the Angel of Music... But she knew that pretty soon He'd come for her, and take her to the heavens with Him. One day soon... Because Christine wasn't crazy she was just a little impaired... But soon enough her Angel was going to think of her. And bring her home. And things would be back to how they used to be.