Dear readers,
For lovers of my last story, Eternal Music I was recently inspired to write another phanfic after about... what? Six, seven months? Wow, it's been a while. Anyway, I recently saw a play that was a version of the Leroux novel, and I was suddenly inspired by: A.) a conversation about the dinner table with my friend's family, b.) a dream (like usual), and c.) just adoration for the darker Erik! and d.) all the phanfiction I've read. I also read Susan Kay's Phantom and I absolutely adored it! I just really couldn't wrap my head around Erik being all with the morphine... it kind of disturbed me, and then the ending was sad (sobbed for a few hours), but I wish it stuck more to the book there... The writing was excellent and inspiring once more, and now taking a break from my vampire novel, I now give you this novel which I am determined to finish by the end of the summer (yaayyy). The title might just be crappy and I'm thinking about changing it, but I really hope to stay with this and hope some people may read this.
I respect reviewers who actually review instead of complimenting... I mean, that's all great and stuff except I would much rather you give some advice and comment about my story with fruitful information, and if you do, you have my respect!
Now, without further ado, I present to you, In My Childish Fears
Disclaimer for entire story: Duuhh... I don't own Phantom, if you don't wanna count the 2-disc DVD of Phantom, two music boxes, two different versions of the book, the original cast soundtrack, four tickets to the show, three t-shirts, and Susan Kay's novel... If I could that'd be awesome, except there's a reason why it's called "Phanfiction" so there's no point to this anyway.
Chapter 1:
New Guardian
"You've got to be kidding me," Mrs. Giry huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, glaring at me coldly. I didn't have anything to begin to contradict at the moment, and I stared back at her with the same amount of coldness she was giving me. "How can you even begin to know the family if you've only been with them for three months?" She threw out her arms dramatically, huffing deeply.
"It doesn't take long." I replied quietly, bending my head to look at my hands, not wanting to look at the woman huffing around the room just because she had more work to do. Dealing with her anger problem for the past few years, I just had to ignore it gradually.
"You know, Christine, if you don't stay with this family, you only have one more chance until I give you away to the foster home. You can't just move around on a whim like this!" She exclaimed, lowering her eyes so that they were at the same level. I grimaced.
She softened her expression suddenly, and then placed a hand under my chin to lift it up.
"You will never be able to find the perfect parents, Christine, no matter where you move, you should know it will never be the same. You must grow to love people as they are, and take it in."
"I know," I whispered brokenly, trying hard to save my crying for tonight in the new house. During these times of moving about the east coast, Mrs. Giry acts as a mother, taking care of me dearly until I arrived at the next home. I sometimes wondered if she would take me in because I've known her and her daughter, Meg, for so long, and if I couldn't just move in there with them. After my father passed away, Meg became my best friend that I contacted with the old cell phone I found somewhere that was out of someone else's reach, and I simply found the right charger for it, and now I use it all the time. I don't even pay the bill mysteriously enough, but I text Meg a lot.
"Then what was wrong with this last family? Hm?" She asked softly, rubbing her thumb against my cheek.
"They had eight kids." I replied reluctantly, "Eight of them... I don't think they even knew my name until the last day when I called you."
Mrs. Giry rolled her eyes at me, and fixed her posture. "Well this next sponsor doesn't have any kids," She replied as she began to go through files, "I believe he is a very willing applicant, and would take you in almost immediately."
"That last part... the exact same words as the last five houses, Mrs. Giry." I murmured nonchalantly.
"Dear, you'll be fine here... I know it. It's a single man who just wants some company and you seemed fit."
I sighed and got up from the kitchen chair, "I'll get my things."
She smiled contentedly, and walked behind me to the hallway as she retrieved her keys and bent down to grab my other lighter bag filled with the few books I'm allowed to bring along. The bag I held carried the few outfits that I carry as well, stolen from each house I've been to.
It seemed God didn't want me to go, either, for it began to pour down rain, crashing on the car, and it didn't take time until I realized it was pouring hail. I suppose I should count this as a bad omen, that I'm doomed to wonder the halls of some foster home like a ghost along with all the other rejects and mope around enough that nobody would ever want to adopt me. I've been very convinced that God actually doesn't want me anywhere, that since my father and my other caretaker, Mrs. Valerius died, I don't exist anymore... I'm just skin and bones.
It seemed like forever and a day driving in the car, though the rain never ceased to stop pouring down, and the further into a highway we drove, it seemed the thunder became more violent and the lightning would crash down close to wherever we were approaching.
"We're almost there," She announced, looking back in the rear-view mirror to me, and I nodded again. "Remember first impressions-"
"Are the first chance to have them know you." I answered dully.
"And don't forget-"
"Your manners because they still count no matter how old you are." I finished quickly. "I got it the last five times, I think I get it this time."
The car stopped moving suddenly and I noticed she was looking back at me expectantly, with a surprised expression, and even my jaw dropped down in absolute horror. We just stopped in front of a mansion.
"Um.. are you sure this is the right place? I mean... really?" I asked quickly, my eyes beginning to move over the entire house, and it did take a while to do so. The mansion was absolutely beautiful, and the architecture seemed to be from probably in the European classical times, with a deck to the right looking out to the lavish garden underneath it tat immediately caught my eye..
"Yes, this is the only place that has this address, Christine." She replied unsteadily, opening the door to the car, and coming around to open mine in the back seat. She opened the trunk and got my things out, handing them to me. It seemed like this house may be a good applicant to being haunted, looking almost as if it belonged to the time period of which it was built like. "You should be very grateful indeed. I had no idea..." She trailed off, looking over the home, and then strictly on the large ebony door as it began to creak open.
"You must be Christine," A timid, accented voice said from the doorway, and I had to peel my eyes away to look at the man who was standing in the doorway. "Mr. Erik has been waiting very much for you to arrive. Let me take your bags." He said, and outstretched his arm, for me to rest my bags in, and I looked back to awestruck Mrs. Giry, looking at the man questionably. Raising an eyebrow she looked to me fiercely.
"Well, I should be on my way, Christine. You know when to call me when you need me, or if you need any advice." She explained shakily, dropping into her car, putting the keys into the ignition, and she began to drive away, when I stepped away from the evident servant, willing to serve me. I reached into my pocket to make sure the cell phone was still there thoughtlessly, and assured it was, my heart seemed to calm just a little.
"Follow me, if you will," He said looking to me curiously, as if I was some sort of strange creature. I walked behind him into the house, when I was almost overran with the grand beauty of it... I never been inside a house so lovely. The foyer was truly amazing, a chandelier hung dimly from the ceiling and every bit of furniture seemed to compliment it as if went down, even the stairs were some sort of golden marble, curving down to a few yards away from where I stood. As my eyes moved up the stairs, I noticed that there was something weird with the case to the right.
"Here she is, sir." The man carrying my bags said even more timidly, sounding as though he was intimidated.
For a second, I thought he was talking to air, when I looked up and saw a tall, and bone skinny man, almost dressed entirely in black, which included a mask that covered most of his face, with no intricate design, it was only a mask. Now I saw why this man was acting so strange to me... I felt immediately intimidated just looking at him as he gracefully moved down the stairs, I noticed that his golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dim room, were fixed on me.
"Take her bags to her room, Damon." The man on the stairs said... and I believe the first word he uttered seemed to just blow me away, it was so absolutely beautiful, flowing like velvet into my ear that caressed it before letting go, soothing everything, I stood in awe.
"Christine," He said my name with such care, pronouncing every syllable with its own evident honor, I really never knew my name was beautiful until he actually said it, "I've been waiting for you to come, I'm sure you'll find my home very comforting compared to the other homes you have been to."
I looked around once more, and I felt bare as he was right in front of me, short and exposed, his gaze was as if he was studying me, and though he wore a mask, it was like I could see every expression that he made through his eyes.
"Would you kindly make any acknowledgment that you are listening?" He asked, his eyes seeming to lose patience.
I nodded, of course, and blinked a few times, not really believing I was here, and I looked into his golden eyes as if I've never seen eyes before.
"Could you possibly say something?" He asked softly.
"Yes," I said instantly, tensing up, "I mean... Sorry... I've just... never been in such a home before." I said dully compared to his own voice. I felt myself warming up at the cheeks, and I began to play with my hands behind my back, folding and unfolding, studying every bone with probing fingers as they nervously played.
"It is very beautiful, isn't it?" He said thoughtfully, his eyes peeling away from me to look around.
"Very much," I whispered, my brow tensing, looking to him once more, though he was looking away.
"Would you like me to show you to your room before giving you a tour of the home?" He asked gently, and I nodded slowly. "Follow me, then."
I obeyed almost too willingly, determined to see the rest of the house with careful discretion of my own pleasurable desire. We walked up the stairs, and I noticed, now with his back turned, that he walked with as much grace as a feline, as if flowing with his own music only he can hear, and it was, in a way, beautiful. He caught me like this, looking back.
"Are you alright?" He asked, as if smiling, though I couldn't be certain.
"Yes, I'm fine... just... eager." I forced a smile to reassure him, and he turned around and climbed the stairs further as I followed attentively behind.
At the top of the stairs was the balcony that overlooked the entire foyer, and I could have a closer view of the large and beautiful chandelier that hung over it. Hallways were very dark, lit by nothing but a few dimly lit electric candelabras. I studied each one carefully, finding it strange to find in this home, though it wasn't reasonable. The hallways seemed to last forever, entwining labyrinthine-style to different doors that were shut.
He didn't name off rooms for my information at all like most acclaimed guardians would, he simply passed them all with indifference, as if not wanting me to know them at all. I had a sudden and rather embarrassing fear that I might just get lost in this mansion whenever I needed to get out of my room.
"Here is your room," He said quietly, and then opened the door with a key, and with an unfurling hand, opened the door to let me go inside.
It was also very beautiful, in all different shades of gold and red, a queen-sized bed was in the center, a writing desk was to the furthest wall near the curtained window, and two ebony doors were lined about the room, with a dresser and a beautiful mirror, a closet that looked large enough to be two bathrooms combined that was opened to reveal loads of clothing. I stood in the doorway with my mouth hanging open in disbelief.
"Why... Why this much? I don't even know you?" I, for once, let my thoughts be known in a little too harsh of a tone. "Why should you take me in and give me these things...?" I asked, stepping into the room, outstretching my arms to show emphasis.
"If you do not already know... I have my own sources and money, and I can do these things to make you comfortable as possible. For your information... I do know you. You've just never known me. Now, if you care to clean up and come downstairs into the right-hand door where you will see a living area, on the wall adjacent to the fireplace you'll see a door that leads to the dining room, we will have dinner then." He said a little too quickly, taking a sudden coldness to his tone, and almost glared. I gasped in shock at his beautiful, warm voice being taken away as if by some sort of demon, and then replaced with the iciness of snow.
He shut the door behind him as he headed out, and I was left alone to my own thoughts. He said that he knew me... but I didn't know him. What in the world does this mean? I've never seen him before. I was sure if I've ever met a man that wears a mask that covers his entire face, I would remember it forever, and then if I would have ever heard his voice before, that would haunt me forever just as it is now, his words echoing inside my head. I thought over it for a while; he looked young, in a way though he acted as if he was forty, and he stood tall and straight, and walked like a cat, was exceedingly rich, and acted as though he belonged in some other time period like a true gentleman. It was all too strange to me... No matter how inviting this home was, I don't believe I'll ever feel comfortable. The only bad part of this... I didn't want to go to that foster home with all the rejected teenagers that had no lives... My father would have never wanted that. So, all thoughts were agreed, I was stuck here... and I can't turn back now.
Heaving a very deep sigh, with a few tears pricking my eyes, I looked to the room admiringly, with a chilling sense of awkwardness to it, as if I was a country girl feeling air conditioning for the first time.
I curiously went to the other door that was left unopened, and with the golden handle, I opened the door slowly to reveal a large bathroom that was the size of my own bedroom with a glass-framed shower, porcelain toilet, and the tile was in an intricate design on the floor with another beautifully designed mirror, all the necessities lined the sink's cabinet.
"Whoa." Was all I could say to myself as I backed out of the bathroom slowly, looking to the bed which had my bags on it. I began to unpack my books from my bag, and placed them in a messy on the writing desk, thinking I should make it feel more like home instead of a neat and extravagant room that did not belong to me. I didn't bother fold my clothes as I began to put them into the drawers in the dresser, and threw my underwear in the top drawer.
I took out my picture folder carefully, not to bend it more than it already has been as I travel, and looked to my mother and father's smiling face as they held their hands together, clasping each other affectionately. My mother wither her bronze hair that was pulled into a elegant bun at the top of her head, the wedding dress fitting her body almost perfectly, and then my father with his goofy smile and narrowed eyes at my mother. His dark brown hair slicked back with a dapper tuxedo making him looking just as handsome as my mother was beautiful, though I have only dim memories of my mother, I held her close just as I would my father. I took the photo and held it close to my chest, hanging my head low, clutching it like I would hold a life vest to stay afloat.
What would they think if I was in this sort of situation? Would they tell me to get away, or, to be safe, stay here until you need to leave...? I almost had to smack myself out of this sort of hazing... This is your own life, Christine, don't ponder the past, a voice in the back of my head said... Raoul's voice to be exact. Raoul Chagny, an incredibly close family friend that I haven't seen since my father passed away at the funeral, and he kissed me... on the lips, a very long and heart-felt goodbye.
I shook my head again, moaning in rage at myself... they were too warm of memories, too fond, and they shouldn't exist right now.
I soon finished putting my belongings away and I began to take in deep breaths to choke down the awkward phase and not absolute feelings toward this strange man. I opened my door to the long and narrow hallway with a little light at the end of it, and I assumed it was reflected from the foyer's chandelier. I walked down quickly so my uncertainty was turned absolute. Fortunately enough, I found myself at the beginning of the staircase and I walked down it lightly, taking the grandness of it once more, as if another slap in the face.
I eagerly opened the door he noted for me to take, revealing a living room with a plush sofa and chairs all around it in it's Victorian-styled theme that goes throughout this entire house, the fireplace seemed to make the somewhat dead-looking room come to life, with paintings and works of art that held the beauty to somewhat modern times.
There were a few bookshelves that lined the wall near the fireplace, and then in the middle between the two, there was a door that I assumed led to the dining room. Just before opening it, I noticed movement in the peripheral vision of my eye, and I jumped around to see the man rising before me, some sort of mocking amusement to my quirkiness, and I backed away, with my eyes still wide.
"I'm very sorry to startle you," His comforting voice assured, coming up from the chair that faced away from me, a book in his long, bony hands.
"No, it's nothing, really... Just.. easily startled, I guess." I said quickly for his sincerity of his apology. I blushed, feeling slightly sheepish again.
"Here, let me help you a little by giving you a hint." I think he smiled again, and turned to point at the door directly across from where I stood. "That door, dear, that you are standing by leads to the music room," he mused, and then looked to the door his long, slender finger was still pointing at, "That door leads to the dining room."
I had to give a small smile at my stupidity, still with fiery red cheeks, "Oh."
"No, it's fine. I, too, sometimes get lost in this house, and I designed it." He explained proudly. I looked at him again with amazement.
"Wow!" I said, my eyebrows raising, thoroughly impressed. "Well, this house is impeccably beautiful. I don't think I could compliment it enough."
And he smiled once more, "Well, many thanks as well. I'm glad you enjoy it." He said furtively.
"My dad used to be interested in architecture among other things... he used to take me to houses that were historic in their architecture just to look... as you probably know, we would have never lived in them." Wow... Why was I sharing this? "I always thought it was interesting... Like a sculpture, in a way, except you can live in your own art."
He nodded, hands behind his back professionally, and I studied him once more with his movements, how they tell so much more about him than the mask. Why did he wear it, anyway? Only criminals wear mask to hide their identity... was he a criminal? No... that couldn't be, he's done nothing but good for me yet, how could criminals be so warm? Then... why did he wear it? The questions went through my head as I stared at it, with strange eyes.
"Might I escort you to the dining room, then?" He asked to distract me away from the mask once more.. after all, it was very rude to stare.
I shrugged, "Sure."
He nodded and outstretched his hand for me to take and reluctantly, Idid. His fingers were strangely cold, and I shuddered away, letting go of his hand out of shock. "Oh, forgive me," He implored quickly as if he just did something horrible.
I looked up quickly for he wasn't looking down, confused instantly. He opened up the door to reveal a table with another brilliant chandelier hanging down once more, one of two cushioned wooden chairs had a lavish dinner laid out, and on the other end, the same chair except there was nothing. I looked up expectantly for an explanation as he sat me down on the chair that had two slices of turkey, corn, mashed potatoes, and a salad laid out expertly, adorned with things that were not necessary and you would see in five-star hotels instead of in an ordinary household.
"I hope this is all to your liking." He wished quietly. I nodded simply and sat down, trying very hard to remember table etiquette from the first house I went to with the OCD parents. Mechanically, I placed the napkin on my lap, taking the fork and knife into my hand, quietly said grace in my head, and stabbed a piece of lettuce, and looked at it scornfully before looking up to him, seated opposite of me.
"Do you not eat?" I asked.
"I already have. If you could excuse me for that much... I do not eat often in front of people." He almost pleaded, seeing my mechanical movements.
"Neither do I..." I whispered to myself, trying to imagine that he was not there, watching my every move. I bit into the lettuce slowly, realizing how truly hungry I was, and then shoved the entire piece into my mouth.
"You don't have to be very mannered in front of me, dear... I know you're hungry."
I didn't rebel with fake lady-like elegance, and began stabbing more lettuce and carrots and radishes that were flavored with my favorite dressing, and putting them into my mouth. The salad wasn't very large, so I headed onto the turkey, savoring its juicy meat for it was most likely the best cooked turkey I've ever had. It was as if it was Thanksgiving in Mrs. Valerius' home all over again. Once finished with the first slice, I accidentally looked up to him, still watching intently, and put down the knife.
"Don't feel so intimidated, I would like you to be comfortable.
"Can you not... stare at me?" I asked stupidly.
"Forgive me," He replied quickly, averting his eyes to the chandelier thoughtfully as if he never had before.
"It's fine," I assured, creasing my brow.
"Tell me, Christine, do you still sing?" He asked carefully, looking back to me because I didn't bother to take another bite.
"Sing?" I asked quietly... How would he have known I sang?
"Yes, I've heard you used to sing all the time." He replied with indifference, as if it wasn't strange that he knew such things.
"How did you know?" I asked slowly, narrowing my eyes.
"It was on your application, dear. It's not that hard." I didn't know if this was truth or not, for I've never seen my application. But I suppose Mrs. Giry put down my interests as well as my other personal things... I just don't remember telling her what I used to do, either.
"Oh," I whispered, "I haven't sang in two years." I replied, "When my father died, I think the music that I loved went with him to the grave. I'm sorry." I whispered, slicing another piece of turkey and swallowing it.
"Would you mind at all if I tutored you? I would very much like to hear your voice?"
"Tutor me?" I asked slowly once more, looking up from my plate again, catching my hand in midair before the turkey into my mouth.
"That is what I just said," He replied impatiently. "I don't have to, but I thought it might get your mind off of everything for a while. I find music does that for me, and I have never taken in a student before."
"You're a musician, too?"
"Most likely more skilled in music than any other talent, I believe, but yes, I am a musician." He fondly said.
"Like... all music? Or just one instrument?"
"Just about everything, but opera is my specialty."
"Opera?" I asked...he sounded just like my father when he spoke of music, saying the word as if speaking to a lover. "Um... Sure. You can teach me..." I said, chewing then swallowing again.
I think he smiled once more, for now his eyes were squinted.
"Wonderful." Was his reply.