Glittering in candlelight, the room seemed to be hushed in night's whisper. Its inhabitant no different; dressed simply in pajamas and staring into a rather ornate mirror positioned at her eye level. Hazel green eyes stared defiantly back towards their owner, as if daring them to do anything not of the ordinary. Sighing in utter defeat, the girl makes a sweeping action of her hand against her own face in the mirror. "I love you."

            Now you're probably wondering who precisely this girl is, and what exactly she's doing telling her own reflection words of love. Well, to start, her name is Sarah. And well, she isn't vain. In fact, she's far from it. Judging from the utter lack of makeup and hairspray displayed on her bureau, I'd tell you she's a very modest person. And, oh, dear, I forgot the last tidbit of the ambiance of that room. She had been playing on her CD player, 'Angel of Music'. Does that explain anything? Probably not. You see, Sarah makes up for her lack of vanity with her amount of utter strangeness. So, to put it simply, Sarah was reaching out to that mirror to bring out something or someone whom her imagination has utterly dreamed up. Still can't guess? Well, she seems to be in love with Erik; the Phantom of the Opera. Now you think she's crazy, correct? No, she is anything but crazy. And even he said that to 'look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside'. She's just looking for him in herself, or does she really believe that he's there somewhere?

            Flicking off her CD player, Sarah flops onto her blue and yellow bed, staring at the ceiling. "You're insane, Sarah-dear," she says dryly to herself, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Utterly and completely insane. He /doesn't/ exist. Get that through your thick skull!" Wiping a hand across her forehead, absent-mindedly stares at the clock. 12:34 AM. "Make a wish," she chides herself, and then dutifully shuts her eyes.

"I wish that he WERE real. That he would learn to overcome his past, with MY help." Opening one eye and hoping, she once again offers the familiar sigh before clicking on her TV and turning on her DVD player. "Well, if I can't be with him, I can watch him." And once again, the familiar face of Erik fills her TV screen, and she sigh dreamily before slipping into slumber.

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            A familiar call of, "Sarah, time to get up. And hurry up, we're running late this morning," rings throughout the girl's sleep-heavy head. Lifting herself up, she yawns loudly and rubs her eyes. Focusing on her computer desk, as that was where her head was turned, she blinks and rubs them again. For standing beside her computer desk was a very darkly dressed man, whose face was covered by a simple mask.

            Catching her rude stares, the man clears his throat and makes a sort of mini-bow. "Mademoiselle."

            "Oh my freakin' God," Sarah says, still staring at the man and occasionally rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing in my room? Oh my God! What if Mum finds you in here? Oh this is not good, not good at all." Looking completely helpless her mother calls from the bathroom and she has no choice but to obey. Getting up, she shrugs towards him. "Uhh, stay right here, would you?"

            The man doesn't seem to take much notice of her, and seems more interested in her computer and television than what the frantic girl is saying. "But of course Mademoiselle." Pausing, he whirls upon her unexpectedly and gives her a very chilling stare. "What am I doing here?"

            Laughing slightly uneasily as she grabs her clothes and offers a wave. "I'll explain what I can when I get back from taking a shower."

            Fifteen to twenty minutes pass and Erik seems to be utterly flabbergasted by his surroundings. That's when, to whether his displeasure or pleasure, Sarah comes bounding back into the room, dressed in a pair of short shorts and a tank top with matching sandals.

            "Sorry about that," she says with a laugh, flicking rogue pieces of her hair behind her ear. "But yeah, my name is Sarah, and well, it seems you've gotten here, by some incredible mistake or coincidence, or wish or something."

            Fortunately for Sarah, Erik wasn't really taking any notice of what she was saying, but more of what she was /wearing/. "I should like you to inform me before you come prancing into your room with your underclothes on." Turning around for taste reasons, he begins to tap his foot. "I will wait whilst you change."

            Sarah blinks and then waits a minute while her brain computes. "Oh, well, this IS what I'm wearing," she says slowly, taking a step back – hoping the masked murderer wouldn't strike out at her. She has a right to be uneasy, really. I mean, there was this weird guy in her house that she was SURE was Erik, and thinks weren't going as planned. She was supposed to be swooning in his arms by now, at least. If she had had it her way, he'd be singing to her, completely in love with her. But no, things never work out according to plan, do they?

            Turning back around slowly, the Phantom takes another look at Sarah's terrible immodest appearance. "Do all girls in your area dress like whores?" A slightly sardonic smirk overcomes his features, as she takes the blow.

            "A whore? You think /I/ look like a whore. You should SEE some of the girls at my school!" It seems her top priority is not to make the strange man in her room angry, and so far, it seems to be working. "Well, anyway, I'm not quite sure WHY you're here, so I guess we should make the most of it." Nervous chuckling follows as she looks at the ground. "I suppose you can sleep here, and – unfortunately I have to leave you alone all day. Find any dark places you can hide in, Erik?" Freezing, she inhales deeply before turning to look at his face. She wasn't supposed to know that. Nope.

            "What, Mademoiselle, did you just call me?" comes the icy answer from across the room. If she could only see the look of surprise the followed that remark she might not have reacted so, well, Sarah-like.

            "I like the name," she offers simply, attempting to sound as nonchalant as she possibly can. "I thought it'd suit you. I mean, you never offered me your REAL name, so I just had to make one up for you, didn't I?"

            Apparently not buying her phony excuse, he walks over to her desk and picks up a battered copy of Susan Kay's 'Phantom' and flips it over to read the back. Staring blankly back at Sarah, who looks like she's ready to turn to a pile of goo, he just inhales deeply. "Does everyone know, about me?"

            This seems to be one of the many times Sarah just wanted to swoon into his arms. Biting her lower lip, she attempts to keep her sigh in check before clearing her throat. "Umm, I suppose. Gaston Leroux wrote a book about you. And you've become quite popular." Not knowing what else to say, she looks into his eyes for his reaction.

            "Oh, so you know everything about me?" Pause. "Then why do you want me here?" He looked utterly and completely confused, thumbing through her book like it was some heathen object.

            "Well, I don't know if any of it really is true. I mean, the authors could have been making the stuff up. Plus, based off of those books, I seem to be helplessly in l – umm, luck with finding your story to be amazing." Nice cover up, Sarah, real smooth.

            "Ahh, well, you see.." And suddenly, Sarah's mother comes bombarding into the room with Sarah's bookbag. "Mary's here, and you're going to be late!" Looking around her room, her mom blinks in the direction of Erik. "Seems rather cold in here."

            Turning a guilty look towards her mother, Sarah coughs and motions for Erik to move a little bit. "Oh, must have been the windows, I opened it during my fever last night."

            Nodding in response, her Mother shoos her out of the room, looks around again, and shrugs. "Oh Sarah, I'll be gone all day. Your sister and I are going shopping.."

            Turning back towards Erik, Sarah mouths, "I'll call you. Pick up the phone." Pointing to black object on the other side of the room, she gives him a thumbs up before heading out the door. The profile of the Phantom watching her from her bedroom window.