Phantom really existed. She was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of bored high school students, the superstition of the faculty, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of Parahumans Online. Yes, she existed in flesh and blood, although she assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.
I say this not to defend my actions, but to understand them.
For as long as I was a student in Winslow's theatre department, there had been rumors of a ghost haunting our theater. Mysterious accidents befalling people, strange voices in the shadows, shadows forming a silhouette in the rafters.
Once upon a time, I never paid heed to these rumors, ignoring them. If only I had listened to my past self.
But I suppose the story that you came here to hear starts with Winslow's production of Hannibal.
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"Bravo! Bravo! Excellent rehearsal everyone!" Said Mrs. Debienne. Hannibal was going to be her last show as drama teacher and today's rehearsal was to be her farewell party.
Mrs. Debienne has been Winslow's drama teacher for years, long enough that some of our parents had her as their drama teacher.
"I'm telling you, it was the ghost!" Said Megan Giry. Megan and I had been in the same dance class our freshmen year and we've been inseparable even since.
"Megan, you can't blame everything that happens here on ghosts." Said Laura Sorelli. Laura was one of the top dancers at Winslow, and she easily had the talent to get into NYU after she graduated, despite going to Winslow.
"I'm telling you I've seen him too!" This one was from Cecily James, a freshman who we nicknamed 'Little Jamie.'
"You've seen him?" I asked.
"As plainly as I see you now Charlotte!" Cecily replied. "A tall figure in a cloak and a mask covering his face."
"Jamie, that was probably a cape." I said. "I can think of half a dozen that use that for a costume."
I grabbed my backpack and walked out of the backstage area with Megan.
"I'm telling you!" Said Cecily. "He has the face of a skeleton, a skull with sunken eyes peering at you unblinking. At least, that's what Greg told me."
That made sense, admittedly. Greg Veder had claimed to have seen the ghost and would never hesitate to tell everyone about it in way too much detail. According to him, Greg had seen the ghost on the stairs leading into the basement underneath the stage.
Before I could say anything to Megan or Cecily, I was nearly bowled over by someone shoulder-checking me from behind.
"Move it Daaé." Said a red-haired girl practically stepping over us.
Of course it would be her.
Emma Barnes.
If there is one person I could have done without in Drama class, it was Emma fucking Barnes. Unfortunately, Emma had been cast in the lead for Hannibal, and would constantly rub it in our faces. I had 'lucked' into being Emma's understudy for the play, and was instead cast in as part of the chorus instead.
I mean, it wasn't bad by any means, but it had the unfortunate problem of putting me on Emma Barnes' personal shit list, as now anything that happened to her, no matter how small was now obviously my fault and part of a conspiracy to take the lead role from her.
So yeah, we didn't get along. I mean, I wasn't about to call down the Slaughterhouse Nine on her and let her get eaten by Locust's bugs, but that was about it.
"Charlotte..." came a voice from nowhere and everywhere in the hallway.
"Who's there?" I asked. I looked around, and the hallway was empty.,
"Charlotte..." said the voice again.
I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, I must not have gotten enough sleep if I was hearing voices.
Anyway, I had to get to Mr. Quinlan's class since he was a stickler about attendance.