Broken Through Time
Summary-
What would happen if the past and present collided and a young woman was dropped into a time she was not born into? What if she felt she belonged there more than in her own time? When the time comes, will this woman allow time to fix itself and place her back into her own time, or will she fight time and stay where she belongs?
Chapter One-
A young woman of only 16 sat on a park bench absentmindedly watching the couples and families that were also in the park. Her blue eyes looking, yet not truly seeing, as her left hand poked and prodded the bruise that was on her right cheek. She had ran here after another fight with her mother, not really hiding, just waiting. What she was waiting for, she did not know, all she knew was that she was waiting. Ever since her father left her in this earthly realm when she was 12, she had been waiting.
A cold, harsh wind blew through the park, her body shivered and she felt the goosebumps form on her arms and neck, telling her to bundle up and keep warm. But she did not. Her eyes drifted upwards towards the sky, clouds were quickly covering the sky, turning the bright, cheerful evening into a dark and ominous one. The couples and families quickly left the park to return to the safety of their homes.
She tilted her head straight up and closed her eyes as she felt the air become was what she had been waiting for. She smiled as she saw a bright flash of light through her closed eyes before her mind was swallowed by unconsciousness.
\'~'/
Madame Antoinette Giry was quickly hurrying through the park, along with her daughter Meg, in hopes to get them back to the newly rebuilt Opera Populaire in time, before the rain came down on them. She and her daughter were just coming back from meeting up with young Miss Christine Daaé, soon to be Victomtess Christine de Chagny in a few short weeks. She was happy for her young ward, though she had hopped that Christine would have been the one to help her old friend Erik out of the darkness he had found himself in. But, alas, she was not.
As the two women came to the end of the park, a bright flash of light off to the side of them caused them to stop. The sound of, what sounded to be, a body hitting the ground caused fear to take hold of Antoinette's heart. She gripped her daughter's shoulders as she looked towards where the sound had been. Her eyes widened when she spotted the body of what looked to be a young woman laying on the ground.
Antoinette removed her hands from her daughter's shoulders and took a step towards the young woman. "Maman?" Her daughter asked in quiet concern. Antoinette held up her hand in a silent command for her daughter to stay where she was as she carefully walked over to the young woman.
When Antoinette got to the woman she held her hands up to her mouth in a silent gasp. The young woman was Christine, and the poor dear looked to be in bad shape. Her dress was ripped and torn in places, as if the poor dear had run through the woods, and the branches had caught onto her dress. Her long, curly brown hair was sprawled out around her, and there was a large bruise covering her right cheek. Antoinette shook her head, no, this couldn't have been Christine. Christine was on her way home in her carriage, safe with Raoul, so this could not possibly be Christine.
"Meg, chére, quickly go to the Populaire and retrieve someone to help carry her to the Populaire." Antoinette said looking towards her daughter, she saw her nodded before taking off towards the building that was right across the street. Antoinette looked back at the young woman, it was hard to imagine that this girl was not Christine, she looked to similar to Christine. A visible shudder ran through the young woman, Antoinette looked at the young woman's face to see she was still unconscious. Another shudder and Antoinette took off her cloak and draped it over the young woman's body.
"Maman!" Antoinette heard her daughter call and looked up to see her daughter running up to her with a young stage hand closely following her. Antoinette stood up and allowed the stage hand to pick up the young woman, wrapping the cloak more securely around her body. The young woman's head lulled back, a moan slipping through her slightly parted lips, her eyes fluttered but did not open.
Antoinette heard her daughter's gasp as she caught a look at the young woman's face. She reached over and took her daughter's hand, and gave it a little squeeze. "Do not fret, chére, though she looks similar to our Christine, I sense that this is not her." She told her daughter before they quickly lead the stage hand back towards the Opera Populaire.
Once they got to the Populaire, Antoinette and Meg held the doors open for the stage hand before Antoinette quickly lead him towards the dorms. When she got to the hallway that lead towards Christine's old room, Antoinette hesitated a moment before turning down the hallway. Antoinette came to a stop in front of the locked door, after the Populaire had been rebuilt exactly like it had once been, no one had wished to use this old room in fear that the Opera Ghost would punish them. Antoinette glanced over her shoulder at the young woman in the stage hand's arms before pulling out a small key and unlocked the door, allowing the stage hand in to lay the young woman on the bed. Once the stage hand had laid the young woman down, he quickly turned and left the room.
"Maman?" Meg asked quietly from the door way. Antoinette looked from the young woman to her daughter who stood just outside the doorway nervously wringing her hands. Meg's eyes moving between Antoinette and the mirror, as if worried he would appear punish them for being in this room.
"Relax, chére, I feel he will not punish us." Antoinette said calmly as she walked over to her daughter and took her hands in hers, "Please go and fetch me some warm water and a rag, so that I may clean this poor dear." Meg nodded before she turned and took off down the hall.
Antoinette turned to look at the young woman and sucked in a breath. Though she could feel that this young woman was not Christine, the sight before her not only took her breath away, but brought tears to her eyes. In the candlelight, in this room, the young woman looked hauntingly like Christine. Antoinette looked towards the mirror, half expecting her old friend to come sweeping through it to take this young woman to his home. To protect her from whatever had attacked her.
With a shake of her head, Antoinette sighed and moved to sit on the bed next to the young woman. Antoinette gently began to run her fingers through the young woman's hair, untangling it, feeling the mother in her come out. She may not be her daughter, nor was she Christine, but she was a young woman that looked to be in need of help, and she would give it to her in any way she could.
From the corner of her eye, Antoinette saw her daughter slowly walk into the room with a bucket of water and a rag. She took the bucket, sitting it down with a thank you before taking the rag. "Go and rest, chére, I shall be here tending to her." Antoinette said and Meg nodded before she quickly left the room. Antoinette dipped the rag into the warm water, ringing it out a little, before turning towards the young woman to began to clean her.
"Oh my!" Antoinette gasped out, dropping the rag, when she saw the piercing blue eyes watching her with a guarded look. Antoinette stared into the young woman's eyes that reminded her so much of her old friend's eyes. Though his were amber in color, they too were guarded. "You are awake." Antoinette stated picking up the rag again. "How are you feeling, chére?" The young woman said nothing, just continued to watch her. "I am Madame Antoinette Giry, I am the ballet instructor at the Opera Populaire." Antoinette said and noticed the young woman's eyes held shock in them for a second before going back to being guarded. Antoinette began to carefully wash the young woman's face. "What is your name, mademoiselle?" Antoinette asked. The only answer she received was the young woman turning her head away to look at the wall beside her. Antoinette sighed silently, it would seem the young woman did not wish to speak. And after the traumatic experience that the young woman had most likely gone through Antoinette was not going to force her, she would give the young woman the space that she needed.
Antoinette placed the rag on the bucket before gently opening her cloak that she had cover the young woman with and noticed that the young woman was still in her torn dress. Antoinette stood up and walked over to the armoire, she opened it and hoped that her friend would not mind that she was letting the young woman borrow one of Christine's old night dresses. "Christine." She heard the young woman quietly say and froze.
"Pardon?" Antoinette asked spinning to look at the young woman who was still staring at the wall. When the young woman didn't say anything, Antoinette began to question if the young woman had even spoken or not.
"Christine." The young woman said softly again, turning to look at Antoinette, "My name is Christine."