My Soul Will Find Yours
By: Erik'sMusicalAngel
Chapter One
I couldn't believe it, not even as the plane landed and my family went through customs. It seemed like a dream; too good to be true. Finally, after all my years of waiting, I was in Paris. After a lifetime of nothing but dreaming about it, here I was standing in front of the majestic Opera Populaire. Cocking my head and squinting from the blazing sun, I looked up and tried to imagine the building in it's heyday. All the fine horses and carriages dropping off men and women in their beyond Sunday best, rushing as fast as possible, within the limits of the century in order to grab their seats. Not one hair out of place.
The beauty of Paris was fascinating beyond comprehension. Ever since I had seen "The Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway with my family when I was 10, I caught the bug. At first it had been getting my hands on the soundtrack and memorizing every version of the songs. Beautiful, haunting songs that showed how deeply Erik loved and cherished Christine. Then it had been the singing lessons, the brown hair dye, the fancy 19th century antique jewelry, and well, finally the site that started it all, the Opera Populaire.
And it was there I stood, at the base of the greatest structure in human history. Other tourists like me swarmed around trying to touch, or at best enter. Unfortunately there was a show of The Nutcracker performing so outside visitors were not allowed to enter, but that was fine. I waited a lifetime, what's another hour? In the distance I heard a little boy whine that it's only a boring old building, what's so beautiful about it? I turned around and looked at the little boy, who couldn't be more than five years old. His parents were trying to shush him as he continued to throw his mini-fit. Although the parents were indeed trying to stop him, it made my blood boil to know that there were those out there who thought of this beautiful opera house as a "boring old building." Granted, he was a child and could still be taught. I wouldn't let it spoil my outing.
Feeling brave, I decided to poke my head into the building to see what was going on. Of course there was a guard, but luckily for me he was focusing more on the stage in front of him rather than me sneaking in from behind. I turned off to the left of me, and although I did not know where I was, I took it in. My lips moved silently as I muttered words of shock and wonderfully surprised.
There were posters of former operas that have been preformed since opening day along the walls. I read and translated as easily as if I were reading in my native English tongue. I noticed a few familiar names and smiled at the possibility they could have once stood where I found myself at that very moment. How was I able to read and understand French without ever setting my eyes on this wall before was a complete mystery. I only knew the very basic of French, and I mean basic. I didn't even know how to say "Help me, I'm lost." I didn't have a fingernail size of French blood in me; much to my dismay. No, it seemed like I had the rest of Europe to learn about, minus France.
I never found any reason to tell anyone of my "talent." It wouldn't have got me anywhere. Thousands of people all over the world speak French, so it wasn't as if I picked up Lord of the Rings fluent lingo. I would just be the thousand and first person who spoke French. My parents would think it was just stupid junk I learned from seeing "Phantom" so many times and watching documentaries on France and the rest my own made up mumble jumble language. So, I ask, once again, what's the point?
But was that a smart move? Would life be easier for those who open up their secrets? If we have something to say should we just take a deep breath and hope for the best?
We will find out soon enough.