Chapter 4
Peter and I left Paris the next day. We hadn't returned for about a year, with the end of Peter's schooling and such. This time Lizzie can go with us, now that she has finally become a midwife. I'm sure he'll propose to her once we get there. Though all these happy things were happening, all I could think about Erik. Peter had noticed this and, in the beginning, he tried to turn my mind away from thoughts of Paris and Erik, but gave up in the end. He hoped that a trip to Paris would help me and perhaps let me let go.
Soon we were riding in another stuffy train. Thankfully, it wasn't raining again, as it had on the way, since I had forgotten my umbrella at home, which had earned me another lecture from Peter about the importance of remembering one's things. When we exited the train, the cold air instinctively made me draw my new cloak tighter. My old cloak was still with Erik.
Thoughts of Erik brought fresh tears to my eyes. I blinked them away before they could fall. Peter and Lizzie had already started looking around, so I had to walk quickly to keep up with Peter and Lizzie's broad strides. Damn tall people.
"Where do you want to go?" Lizzie asked still staring into Peter's eyes. She obviously wasn't talking to me, so I tried to look for all the changes from when we had left. Not much had changed, really, but it was something to do. As we continued on, I started just looking at the colors and patterns, rather than actual things. I did anything to keep my mind from inevitability returning to thoughts of Erik, since this trip was to help me to stop thinking of him. Peter's entire plan was ruined when we came up to that damnable opera house. The Opéra Populaire.
"My Dear, I haven't seen an opera in ages!" Lizzie exclaimed, rushing over to the sign before Peter could stop her. He shot me an apologetic look, but I smiled and waved him on. I wasn't about to ruin their fun. We had arrived a bit later than the first time we came, so we could go in already. It was a rather big crowd of people, though not as big as the last one. They were performing, Don Juan Triumphant, an opera we had never heard of. They found this possibly new opera exciting, as one does get tired of renditions, while I found it quite odd. I had been looking through the opera pamphlet I had received at the door as I walked, and saw the girl who was the female lead in Hannibal was the lead in this opera too. Usually, the continuation of one actor or actress as the lead wouldn't be strange, but this 'Christine Daaé' had only become popular this past year. Carlotta Giudicelli had been the reigning star the past few years, and couldn't have retired yet, since she was on the cast list (she was rather low, and her character didn't even have a name).
"Angela, are you alright?" Lizzie had a concerned look on her face when I looked up. My face must have been contorted in confusion for Lizzie to notice.
"I'm fine." I responded with a smile. This of course was a lie, but Lizzie took no notice, and my lie went undetected. She smiled at me, and skipped back over to Peter. I nearly gagged.
We were allowed to seat ourselves after we paid, since we were some of the first people there. I led us to the third row on the floor, close enough to be able to easily hear, but far back enough to see the entire stage.
I chose an aisle seat, close to an exit. I felt an inclination I might need it. Still going through the pamphlet, I realized something. The writer's name was nowhere to be seen. I flipped through all the pages, but there was no writer's name anywhere. This confused me to no end. I wasn't frightened though…until they started bringing in officers. A man on the stage was talking to who I assumed was the head officer. The man was dressed richly, and was now talking to a younger officer in the pit. He was telling the man to shoot someone when the time came!? I wasn't the only one who found this troubling, some people around us were shifting uneasily in their seats. Peter and Lizzie tried to pay no attention to this, though Peter was more alert.
"I'm here, The Phantom of the Opera." A voice sung. The voice was so familiar, but I could remember where I had heard it. The man seemed to recognize it though, and told the younger man to hold his fire. The voice continued its chant, but the owner of the voice seemed to be moving extremely fast, and the voice was coming from many different spots. The voice shouted from one of the boxes, and the young officer shot at it. I smothered a scream. The box was empty, thank goodness. The voice jeered at the 'Vicomte de Chagny', who I expected to be the man on the stage. The group bickered for a few moments, before the 'Phantom' interrupted.
"Let my Opera begin!" He sung. This Phantom seemed to be the mysterious writer. The opera began as the Phantom commanded. The music was awful, and none of the voice parts fit. The story was simple. A man switched places with his servant to bed a young woman, not the most unique plot. Soon, Miss Christine made her appearance. The cloaked man's, who was the title character, voice changed, and I smothered a gasp. It was the Phantom. I sat on the edge of my seat as the song went on. The song seemed to be made for her, but the dancing was strange. Near the end of the song, the Phantom pulled her rather harshly to the right side of the stage. Christine continued to sing nevertheless, but suddenly pulled the cloak's hood from the Phantom's face. I stared speechless. It was Erik! He began to sing to her, but I was in too much shock to really listen to the words. Peter was glaring intensely at Erik, as he explained to Lizzie what was wrong. After the shock faded a bit, I went to stand up, but was too late. I watched in horror as Christine pulled his mask (and wig?) off. He roared in anger, and dragged her off. I knew exactly where they were going, and I ran after them before anyone could stop me.