Erik
I was startled by a blinding flash of light. I rose from my hiding place and looked around. A girl was sitting in my box! That was impossible, though, there had been no one there a moment before. I studied her closely; she seemed just as surprised as I was. She was a medium hight, about 5'6, and had straight dark brown hair that hung halfway down her back. She was just sitting there, looking at the guests below her.
All of a sudden I heard the melody of Angel of Music playing in my head. I didn't know how, but somehow it seemed to be connected with the girl. In my mind she began to resemble – her. Bad memories that I thought I had made peace with resurfaced, and I wanted nothing more that for it to go away, for her to leave!
"HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY BOX!" I shouted. She jumped a foot and the air and whirled around. Seeing her face, my anger disappeared. Those eyes, so dark and green. And afraid. I could sense her instinctively throwing up walls, but through her eyes I could see the terror and confusion I was causing her. She gazed at me for a moment, then spoke.
"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't, I didn't know." Didn't know, how could she not know? The whole opera house knew that box five belonged to me! Annoyance at this child's ignorance took over. "Leave," I said. I was in no mood to watch the show now. I turned and swept out of the box.
That girl sure was strange. There had almost seemed to be a flicker of recognition in her eyes. But that was impossible. I had never seen her before, and few people had ever truly seen me. She was intriguing nonetheless. How had she just appeared out of thin air? It was obviously some trick. I made a mental note to inspect the box later. I was just about to round the corner when I heard her call out.
"Please, wait!" she called anxiously. Without making any conscious decision, I stopped and turned around. "Where am I?" she asked. What was wrong with this girl? It's not like you could just wonder into this place.
"The Opera Populiare," I answered her.
This was not the answer she was looking for. Her brows scrunched together and she seemed to be thinking hard. "I know that," she said. "But it's different. I came on a educational trip and when I entered the box it was just us here. But then there was a light and then there were all these people wearing old fashioned costumes."
She was looking panicked now; I didn't know what was wrong, but I wanted to help this girl. She unconsciously twirled with a strand of hair, and I noticed what she was wearing for the first time. I blushed. This girl seemed to be oblivious to the fact that she was wearing next to nothing, or that her shoulders were bare. She wasn't even wearing skirts. I felt a surge of anger for whoever let her out of the house like this. What were her parents thinking!?
"What are you wearing!?" I burst out. "How are your parents letting you go around here wearing almost nothing?" Drat it I was blushing even harder now. I was trying to look anywhere but at her. She seemed confused. For a few seconds I could hear her arguing with herself under her breath. "No," she said. " It can't be. It's impossible."
"Sir," she suddenly said to me. " What year is it?" Her voice was shaky, half afraid and half hopeful. But what an odd question to ask. I finally looked at her face. She was pale, almost as pale as me, and her eyes were wide.
" 1875," I told her. This had quite an impact on her. She immediately lost the little color that was in her face. She closed her started to sway. I knew what was coming but I wasn't quite able to catch her before she hit the floor.
What an odd girl. But now I was in quite a predicament. I couldn't leave her here. There would be too many questions ask. I couldn't take her to Madame Giry, for she was taking care of a sick relative in the country, and Meg was too busy taking care of the ballet girls and performing. Nor could I leave her out of the way, where some unfriendly person might happen upon her. Seeing the clothes she was in, I shuddered. There was only one thing I could do. I draped my cloak over her, to preserve her modesty and gently picked her up.
*By the way this is my first story so any suggestions or constructive criticism would be appreciated. I guess I should sadly say that I also don't own the Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters and songs. Rhoddy, Angie, and Molly are mine. Please tell me what you think!