Le Vampire d'Opéra Populaire
Chapter 2: Roses Blancs Ne signifient pas 'Enlevé'
~White Roses Do Not mean 'Kidnapped'~
I wasn't used to this. The attention, the fussing, the frilly dresses… I wasn't used to any of it, and, if we were being completely honest, I absolutely despised it.
What I hated even more, was Jacob 'complimenting' on it.
"Nice dress," he'd laugh out, and I'd glare at him.
"Jerk," I'd mutter. He'd smirk.
That happened a few times before I was called on stage for my solo- the end of tonight's performance.
I took my place at the center of the stage, and listened as the music began. Then, the curtains opened, and I began to sing.
"Think of me,
"Think of me fondly,
"When we've said goodbye.
"Remember me,
"Once in a while
"Please promise me you'll try.
"When you find
"That once again you long
"To take you heart back and be free,
"If you'll ever find a moment
"Spare a thought of me."
As I sang, I scanned the crowd, not exactly knowing what it was that I was searching for.
That was when I saw it.
Up in Box Five, the one that was always empty, there was a flicker of light, almost like a candle flame. It was rather hard to have missed, if you were in my position, though it was only there for a split second.
I continued to sing, keeping my eyes on that box, willing whatever I had seen to come back.
"We never said
"Our love was evergreen,
"Or as unchanging as the sea…
"But if you could still remember,
"Stop and think of me.
"Think of all the things
"We've shared and seen,
"Don't think about the things
"Which might have been."
It hadn't come back, but I continued to stare, knowing, in my heart, that SOMETHING, anything, was there.
"Think of me
"Think of me waking, silent
"And resigned…
"Imagine me, trying too hard to
"Put you from my mind…
"Recall those days,
"Look back on all those times,
"Think of the things
"We'll never do…
"There will never be a day when
"I won't think of you."
Nothing yet, so I continued the last verse, silently praying to my Angel of Music.
"We never said
"Our love was evergreen
"Or as unchanging as the sea…
"But please promise me,
"That sometimes
"You will think o-"
Nothing yet, so I prolonged the 'of', by raising and lowering my voice, many times. It sounded rather good, as vain as that sounds. And, finally, when I was sure nothing would show up, I finished.
"Of me!"
Everyone in the audience stood up and began to cheer, and I bowed a couple times before the curtains fell back down, and Madame Esme Cullen -she was the wife of Carlisle Cullen, the old owner of the Opera. He quit to become a doctor- escorted me off the stage, and helped me get passed the hoard of admirers that were posted outside my dressing room.
My room was filled to the very rim with every kind of flower that you could imagine. The one that stood out the most, however, was the single rose perched on my desk.
There was a white rose that still had the thorns in place on the stem, and had a black ribbon. I knew from experience that white meant 'marriage', or 'new beginnings'. That scared me.
Madame Cullen picked it up, and handed it to me. She gave me a knowing look, and I realized what this was.
A mean, horrible prank. Probably from Lauren, who was most likely angry with me for doing so well.
The 'Phantom' of Opéra Populaire was known was known to leave roses for his next victims, with black ribbons tied to the stems for his next victims. Madame Cullen was a firm believer in this, as almost everyone else here was as well. The Phantom is the excuse that everyone uses to explain the deaths that have occurred here at the theatre over the course of the last many years.
I rolled my eyes as I snapped the stem in half, and threw it on the ground, making sure to get in a few good stomps before kicking it away in different directions. She gasped at my actions.
"Bella!" she scolded, bending down to pick up the newly mangled rose, and cradling it protectively against her chest. "You'll just anger the Phantom even more!"
I scoffed. "I can't believe you listen to what those petty ballerinas whisper of during rehearsal!" I said matter-of-factly. "The 'Phantom"," I made sure to emphasize 'Phantom', "isn't going to kill me."
"Did you ever put into consideration that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't going to kill you?!" she screeched. "Maybe he was proud of you! Maybe he loves you! Maybe he intends to…"
She better not say 'marry me'.
"Marry you!" she finished, handing the rose back to me.
I was taken aback; she had never spoken to anyone like this. Esme was compassionate of everyone's feelings, and avoided yelling at all costs. She must have felt very strongly about this.
For once, I was frightened of her. That, and the fact that she was absolutely right. Usually, he left RED roses for his victims, standing for pain. He made that clear the first time he sent a rose to someone. They didn't come back.
I nodded. "You're right," I sighed, and held the rose closer to my chest.
She gave me a timid smile, and left.
The crowd outside of my dressing room must have died down, because I was able to hear Madame Cullen and Jacob conversing. It was muffled out by the doors that separated me from them, but I knew it was about me, for Jacob entered not a moment after I heard the clicking of Madame Cullen's shoes as she retreated.
"Hey," he greeted half-heartedly, closing the door behind him.
"Hey," I replied, not looking up at him; instead, taking a seat at my desk, and looking down at my hands, which held the beat-up rose.
"What's wrong?" he asked, coming to stand behind me. I didn't answer, I just swung my hand back, and gave the rose to him.
By looking at him in the mirror, I watched as he turned the rose over and over in his hands, when he finally sighed, and held it over my shoulder for me to take; I did.
"Sorry, Bells, I have no idea what it means," he admitted.
"It means 'new beginnings'," I muttered.
"Or marriage," he gasped.
I nodded. "Exactly."
He kneeled down beside me and took my hand in his big ones. "I'm sure it's just a prank," he assured me.
I groaned, but nodded. "Probably," I agreed. He chuckled, stood up, and placed a brotherly kiss on my forehead.
"See ya, Bella," he mumbled, leaving my room and closing the door behind him.
I growled in anger as I threw the mangled rose across the room. My actions surprised even me; I wasn't normally a violent person.
The rose made contact with the mirror across the room, and fell to the ground in front of it helplessly.
A ghostly chuckle echoed throughout the room then. I looked around, looking for anything that could point to the source of the chuckle.
"Wh-who's there?" I choked out.
Another chuckle; but this one was louder, and I knew I was in trouble.
That was dubbed corrects when all of the candles that I had lit around the room flickered, and went out. All at the exact same time.
"Why are you so frightened, my Isabella?" the voice asked. It was very seductive- very smooth, very angelic. Exactly how survivors of the Phantom explained his voice.
I whimpered. "Who are you?" I whispered.
He chuckled yet again. "You shall find out soon enough," he said. "Soon enough."
Something began pounding on my door, causing me to jump a foot in the air, and cry out.
"Bella?" Jake asked. He sounded scared.
The voice chuckled his humorless, angelic laugh yet another time, and I bit my tongue to keep from asking him what he found about my fear so funny.
"Jake!" I cried, and ran to the door.
"Open the door, Bella!" he ordered, and the handle shook.
I tried to do as I was told, but… it wouldn't budge.
"Jake!" I shrieked. "The door, it won't open!"
"Kay, then back off!" he said. "I'm going to but it open!"
I did as I was told, slowly backing up, closer and closer to the mirror.
An ice-cold hand pressed against my mouth, and I screamed against it.
"You must be quiet!" HIS voice hissed in my ear. He pulled me through some sort of secret passage through my mirror. He closed it behind us and dragged me along.
"And YOU have to let me go!" I mumbled against his hand. He didn't seem to hear, and continued to pull me along.
"Not likely," he replied, as he took his hand off of my mouth, and pulled me along by my hand instead.
I couldn't see his face, for he was wearing a full face mask, but I was able to see his strange, bronze-ish colored hair, and his piercing crimson eyes. Those were what frightened me the most.
He pulled me along the stone corridor, and then I saw a horse. I remembered that horse from when I was younger; Jake and I would go and feed it everyday. Just last week, he went missing.
He helped me up onto the horse, and began to pull at the horse's reigns, and we moved.
I was tempted to run, but something told me I wouldn't make it very far, so I stayed.
We stopped in front of a massive lake, with a gondola in the water, and that's when he helped me off of the horse, and into said gondola.
He pushed off of the shore, and began rowing us to our unknown destination.
I don't remember all of the finer details after that. I remember mist, the lake, the boat, the bed, and… the man. If that's what we were classifying him as.
I remember waking up in this strange bed, with a new rose in my grasp. A red one, to be exact...
- - - - -
Sooo? How was it? I know I said I'd update when I got back from my trip, but I couldn't wait! I was bored all day at school, ended up with this chapter, and just had to post it!
Three reviews again? Pleeeaaasee?
