The last thing I remember was just…darkness. Noises came and went around me…voices.
I wasn't sure where I was…I didn't remember….
I gasped, sitting straight up and looking around.
"Christina, are you okay?" a voice asked from somewhere in the room. It sounded too far away to make out whose it was. The room was way to blurry to see anything and refused to stop spinning to help stop the ache in my head.
My name was thrown in the air a million times or more.
"Where is she?" a voice yelled above the rest. It sounded vaguely familiar, though I couldn't at all put a face or a name to it…
"Chrissy!" the voice shouted again. "Out of my way! Chrissy!"
Out of fog, a face appeared inches away from mine and a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders.
"Chrissy, can you hear me?" the face asked. It was a lovely face; tan skin, big caramel-colored eyes, a lips ring. "Chrissy, please talk to me! Someone, get a doctor!" the face called to someone else.
This face looked familiar.
It reminded me of something….
I was looking for something; someone was in danger. The only thing that my mind said was that I was looking for someone…someone important. Someone I knew…someone I trusted…
Someone I loved….
The black emptiness of my mental space was instantly filled with pictures; bright pictures of everything.
The dreams…
The voice lessons…
The fateful, candlelit night I was taken by the hand…
The shocking realization…
The cemetery and confirmation….
Tom. Tom was here. Tom was talking to me.
And Bill. He was the one I loved. He was the one in danger.
Yet I was too. And so was Tom.
"Chrissy?" he asked again.
"Tom."
"Chrissy, what happened?"
"I don't know…but Bill is in trouble," I said before looking up. "Where is he?"
"Bill's gone. He was taken," Tom admitted, looking very sad himself.
My eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold back tears. My hands clenched into fists and my knuckles screamed in pain as they repeatedly hit the ground. "How to we save him? What do I have to do?"
I looked at Tom through my teary eyes to see him exchange a glace with Frau Schafer. They both knew.
"He'll take you, Christina. There wouldn't be any going back and –"
"I don't care," I snarled, squeezed my eyes closed and clenching my fists again. "How do I save Bill?"
Tom sighed. "By doing what the Opera Ghost wanted. Sing for him."