Not Miss Giry
1.
A shadow moved outside of the window, startling me out of my stupor. V for Vendetta played softly from the large television set in the Giry's living room as Meg snored quietly from her perch on the couch.
My groggy mind mused over the slumber party that had occupied my evening. The night had begun with pizza and ended with a muffled movie playing as Meg snoozed and I stared at the wall in exhaustion. It was the last show of a long, exhausting run. Meg had been in the dance troop and I had been in the chorus. Despite how tiring it was alongside school, Meg and I had enjoyed it to no end. Her father had even come to the performance, a rare occurrence. He left at the intermission, of course, but he got to see Meg's solo dance in the first act, so she wasn't that upset.
And he had given her the bouquets of flowers. That had certainly helped.
Aunt Valerius couldn't come because she was ill, as usual.
Mrs. Giry had suggested that I stay at their house for the night to give my aunt the night to herself.
Some kind of movement stirred outside the window again, peaking my curiosity. I stood, stretching my limbs before shuffling around pop cans and popcorn cornels. The darkness of the world outside almost disguised the slight movement from the bushes.
Puzzled, I tiptoed down the stairs and found myself pressed against the French doors leading to their yard. I had convinced myself that it was Meg's cat that had possibly been stuck in the bushes. I opened the door, shivering slightly as the wind blew through me.
Something was wrong. The rattling in the bushes was too drastic to be an animal. A warm, fuzzy thing brushed against my leg, startling me into a strangled yelp. My gaze traveled to downward rapidly, only to find the cat nestled against my shin. I sighed in relief, relaxing completely.
I stooped to pick up the animal, but stopped before my fingers could reach the slick fur. If the cat was inside, then what was moving in the bushes?
A tremendous force hit my heart, causing me to fall to the ground. I could only see to black boots before my face.
"Goodnight, Miss Giry," a man said, his words muddled by his thick French accent.
"I'm not," I began, but a cloth covered my mouth, smelling strongly of chemicals. They smothered my words and the world shut down around me.
My body felt as though it had been through a tumbler. I could feel each twinge in my muscles and every ache in my bones.
Oh my God! I thought. I've been kidnapped!
The man had me slung over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Tears fell from my eyes across my forehead and landed in my hair.
I am going to die, I thought in resignation. I hope that they make it quick.
The man stopped, allowing my body to drop to the pavement.
"I've brought her," the man who carried me said. I froze. There is someone else?
"Let me see her. I do not want any damage, do you understand?"
"Yes, I understood you the first time," my kidnapper replied.
This second man had an accent too, but this one was more exotic, perhaps Middle Eastern or Indian. I couldn't tell.
I was pulled to my knees and jolted until my head was pulled up so that they could see my face.
"No," I heard the new man mutter.
"What do you mean, "no"?
"You idiot! This is not Miss Giry! Do you understand what he will do to you when he fins out? What he will do to us? What he will do to her?" the man asked hurriedly. They slipped into another language, their voices frantically rushing over sounds my mind could not process. They then stopped abruptly, causing me to glance at them cautiously.
The new man approached. I could see that his skin was darker and he held himself like someone who was exhausted.
"I am so sorry," he said, his words gentle. Kind. "My companion thought that you were someone who we were looking for. He was wrong, obviously."
I allowed my fear to pulse through my body. All the nerves in my soul urged me to run, but I couldn't. I was a coward.
"I would like to return you to your home, but we must know your name."
I gaped at him. He wants an introduction?
"I am Christine Daae," I said, but my voice cracked noticeably in the middle.
"I am truly sorry, Christine," he said again.
"Sorry for what exactly, Daskar?" an alluring voice said from the shadows before a demon emerged.