Phantom's Beauty and gravityisagoodthing- I am so glad that you are enjoying it! I am also sorry that it took me so long to update, but the Document Manager doesn't work on my computer, so I have to use the school's. Well, enjoy!
Disclaimer: The canon characters of Phantom of the Opera do not belong to me. They belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux. (I sure wished I owned them, though.)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shortly thereafter a doctor arrived and declared that she was blind. He told her that she had hit an optic nerve when she bumped her head and that it had injured her sight. He said that he didn't believe the blindness to be permanent, but he informed her that it could be days, weeks, months, or even years before she regained her sight.
Nathalie sat, too shocked to speak. Maybe this was all a horrible dream, and she would wake up soon. But if not...She didn't want to think about what would happen. Her mind ignored her inhibitions and promptly thought about it anyway. She would not be able to be a ballerina anymore and would therefore stop making money. Nicholas wouldn't be able to support her, and she would end up on the streets, begging for food and selling herself. She shuddered at the very thought. She would die before she let it come to prostitution.
"Madame Giry?" she asked when the doctor had left the room.
"Yes, my dear?" Madame Giry replied, sympathy in her tone.
"What's going to happen to me?" she bit back a sob, "I obviously can't dance anymore."
"Darling!" Madame Giry's voice said. Nathalie could tell she was coming closer because her voice had grown louder, "Did you think that I would throw you out just because you are blind? Don't worry, we will find something for you to do."
Nathalie nodded, relief flooding her heart. "May I please go see my brother, Madame? He does not yet know what has occurred."
"Of course, Nathalie. But before you leave, let me ask you something. Can you sing?"
"Everyone but the mute can sing, Madame."
"Yes, yes, but can you sing well?" she asked impatiently.
Nathalie considered the question. She hadn't sung since her parents died. It reminded her too much of her mother singing to her when she was a child. But she had sung quite often before then, and people had told her that she had a pretty voice. "I suppose," she said.
"Okay, then. I was just curious," Madame Giry said slyly, "Let's go see your brother. I'll lead you, shall I?"
"Oui, s'il vous plait, Madame," Nathalie said, grateful for her help.
Madame Giry grasped her hand, and they walked very slowly to the stables. When Nicholas saw his sister and Madame Giry's expression, he came running, abandoning the horse he had been grooming. His sister rarely came to visit him, and never with Madame Giry. Something had to be wrong. He was fiercely protective of Nathalie, as she was all he had left in the world. He grabbed his sister frantically by the shoulders, and when her eyes did not meet his, instead staring blankly into the distance without blinking, his fears, far from being assuaged, were only multiplied.
"Is she blind?" he cried to Madame Giry, "Are you blind?" he said, redirecting the question to Nathalie before Madame Giry could answer.
Nathalie nodded, afraid of what he might do.
"How?" he asked, on the verge of hysteria.
"I was wandering around in the dark because I couldn't sleep, and I hit my head on a door," she said sheepishly, "The doctor says it isn't permanent though."
"Well, what are you going to do in the meantime?" he asked, still sounding shocked.
"I've decided to give Nathalie a chance to be in the chorus," Madame Giry broke in, "That is, if she would like to."
Nathalie agreed enthusiastically. It wasn't like she had any other choice anyway.
"Well, that seems to be in order then. We will have an audition for you in the morning. Just come to the stage at eight tomorrow morning. I must go now," said Madame Giry, "I trust that you will help your sister back to her dorms, Nicholas?"
He said that he would and Madame Giry left, satisfied that he would take care of her.
"My God, Nathalie," said Nicholas in a strained voice, "I can't believe you're blind."
"Neither can I," replied Nathalie, her unseeing eyes getting watery, "I suppose I'll just have to get used to it for the time being."
"Did the doctor tell you how long it would last?" asked Nicholas.
"He didn't know. All he seemed to be sure about was that it wasn't permanent."
Nicholas nodded, "Well, I'd better get you back up to your room. You need your rest."
He led her painfully slowly back up to the dorms. Luckily, they were deserted, though she really shouldn't have been surprised. Everyone was, after all, at rehearsals. Nicholas hugged her and helped her find her nightgown. Then he said goodbye and headed back to the stables.
Nathalie wished silently that her mother had also provided her with a sister while she tried unsuccessfully for several minutes to do up all the intricate buttons that went into even the most casual of nightgowns. A sister could be very helpful when dealing with buttons. When she finally finished getting dressed and managed to get into bed, she realized that this could very well be the last night she spent in the dorms. If her singing audition went well, she would be moving into the chorus girls' dorms. The thought made her bite her lip to keep a ragged sob from escaping. She didn't know any of the singers. As it was, she only had one true friend in the group of ballet girls. She wondered briefly if the singers were as backstabbing as the girls that danced. She fervently hoped not.
Maybe this will be a change for the better, she thought consolingly to herself, Maybe it will be better than dancing. She found that her unspoken hopes were hollow; she didn't believe them at all. She sighed deeply and tried to sleep. She almost cried when she realized that when she woke up, she would still be in total darkness, blind to the world around her. Somehow, she was able to forget about the pain throbbing in her head from the bump that she had acquired the night before and the thoughts of what she had lost. She escaped to the only place she was safe: her dreams.
"Is it true then?" came the whispered voices of the ballet girls, "Did she really go blind?"
Nathalie, waking up slowly, opened her eyes automatically, cringing when she stayed in darkness. Although the girls had been having a large discussion before, as soon as she sat up, they dispersed. She could not see them of course, but she imagined that they all kept stealing glances at her, like she was some kind of animal in the zoo. She got up unsteadily, wondering what time it was. She assumed that it was the following morning and decided to go ahead and get dressed. Besides, she doubted she could fall asleep again anyway. She struggled for fifteen fruitless minutes before Sylvie walked in, saw her pitiful attempts, and assisted her friend.
"So I guess you really are blind, then, aren't you?" she asked in an undertone.
"Yes," Nathalie replied glumly, "I guess gossip travels fast here."
"It does," Sylvie said simply. She seemed to be uncomfortable around Nathalie, like one often is around a friend who has recently lost someone very dear to them, "I heard that you are going to try out for music."
"Right again. Where do you hear all this?"
"Oh, you know, around," said Sylvie with the usual teenage girl's way of being vague, "So...Can you sing?"
Nathalie shrugged, "I'm not really sure. I haven't sung in a while."
"I bet that you'll be amazing. Well, you had better go or you'll be late. It's nearly eight."
