Disclaimer: We all know by now....
Phantomgurl33: HA!! Your wish is my command!!
My Notes: This chapter will again return to third person (I think that's the right one?? I'm terrible with English and the like) and will now be involving a bit of 'action', if that's really what I should call it, that might spread into a few other chapters.
For the musical introduction, it is important that all of you reading this at one time in your life either go see the movie 'A Beautiful Mind', or buy the CD 'The Best of Charlotte Church'. Or you could just do it the easy way and download the song 'All Love Can Be'. I encourage you to listen to it before this chapter, if possible. It will be my song to introduce this chapter.
I am now going to go into a rave about the song...
Or rather, explain the importance of it. ;)
Since the first time I saw 'A Beautiful Mind', I was riveted. Yet, besides the brilliance of the movie, something else, a component of the movie, caught my attention. The song 'All Love Can Be', sang by Charlotte Church, always gives me absolute earth-shattering chills. This song is so haunting and beautiful, it can hardly be described!! I am listening to it right now *grin* and I can hardly tell you how wondrous this song is. It can be given to any of the three most prominent characters in POTO and fit them rather nicely. Besides that, it manages to even fit a portion of this next chapter. I was searching for the perfect song for this new creation of mine (literally pulling out at least fifteen CD cases, prepared to listen to every song on every disk by a numerous amount of musical authors, and from all different genres). Then it hit me and I went searching for my CD of Charlotte Church's best songs, but was sorely disappointed to find that it was probably among my other lost CD's (so many I can't keep track!! how sad). Luckily, when I came to the computer (where yet another pile of CD's awaited me and had been sitting for at least three days, at LEAST) I rummaged through the CD's and found it!!! YAY!! Ok, I'm finished.
Enjoy, dear readers...
"I will watch you,
In the darkness,
Show you love will see you through,
When the bad dreams,
Wake you, crying,
I'll show you all love can do,
All love can do,
I will watch,
Through the night,
Hold you in my arms,
Give you dreams where none will be,
I will watch,
Through the dark,
Till the morning comes,
All the light I'll take you through the night,
To see,
A light showing us all love can be.
I will guard you,
With my bright wings,
Stay till your heart learns to see,
All love can.... be......"
~The Best of Charlotte Church 'All Love Can Be'
Chapter Six:
"Is she well?" Nadir questioned, supporting the baby over his shoulder as the tiny essence slept.
It was quite a sight, the mysterious Persian man carrying a baby boy around the Opera Ghost's home. Yet, it seemed as if Nadir was quite at ease with the new occupation of mother and father. He never got frustrated when the child cried and never was rough with him. His past experienced surely helped, but it was his inborn personality that made him a most wonderful companion for the child.
"She is still unconscious..." Erik solemnly replied, standing and retrieving the bowl from the table next to the divan and proceeding to refill it with hot water from the kettle.
Erik spoke little as of late, which was a lot to say considering he never spoke much in the first place. Now, he was nearly always silent, and it was evident that he was simply trying to be strong. This incident had impacted him hard. Nadir had never seen him so afraid before, not even in Persia when his life was in danger of being taken from him. Back then he masked his feelings with a coldness, but his feelings for Christine had always been quite obvious. Why? Nadir could not know. All he could think of was that Erik loved her so deeply, it defeated all attempts of his to appear blank, for in truth he was not. Not anymore. What had replaced the open space within his soul was the ever brewing adoration for Christine. All he needed now was to be adored in turn.
It was not long before the baby was asleep, and Nadir had achieved another feat in ten minutes that would normally take any other person at the very least a half an hour. Yet, the Persian man did not take notice of his abilities or his success with the child. Something inside of him informed him that the little boy would not always be his responsibility, and so his aid was only needed for a short time.
"Erik, you said that she fell out of the carriage, did you not?"
The master of darkness managed a grunt of affirmation, which was more than he usually gave anyway, just as he returned with the freshly piping hot water. He took his place next to Christine on the settee and smoothed the hot rag over her forehead, a greatly pained expression upon his face as he examined the large gash across her head.
"Did anyone see you?" Nadir questioned again, having put the baby in the make-shift crib which had been constructed in a quarter of an hour.
"Yes. Of course they did." Erik murmured, his attention fully on the sleeping dove before him.
Nadir said no more. Both of them knew why he asked this. If someone had seen him in the light, taking a girl who had just been severely injured to an unknown location, they were sure to call the police or grow to have a dangerous curiosity within them. The very last thing they needed was people coming after them.
Erik was growing desperate for something, anything to give Christine that jolt of life she needed to awaken. He would do anything now, just to hear her voice again.
"It is strange, Erik, to see you reduced to a shivering child before her." Nadir said grimly.
"There is nothing strange about it..." Erik replied in a hushed whisper that was ragged from his exhaustion, "I've told you time and time again how my feelings for her overcome everything I am. I told her that I was her servant, once, a dog at her feet who would do anything for its master. You know this as well as I do."
Nadir nodded, turning to take the baby to his room and stay there until he awoke, "Sometimes there is weakness in you that you do not even suspect."
Erik turned a fiery gaze toward the door which had only just shut behind Nadir. He looked back to Christine and sighed, rubbing his eyes and face wearily. How long would it be until she awoke? He wasn't sure he could handle watching her like this for long.
The fire that was now alive yet again in his home crackled and popped as it grew, warming the house sufficiently for once. Its every flame created a dancing light that played upon her features so beautifully. One of Erik's gentle fingertips grazed her temple, and to his utter surprise she jumped slightly.
Murmuring, she whispered something to herself that was hardly audible, but he figured she spoke of the cold, not realizing it was really his hand that had touched her instead of a draft. His lips were only a small length apart from hers as his cool breath cascaded over every feature of her face. When she slept, he found a confidence unknown to him in her presence, and the longer she stayed asleep, the more it grew within him. Wanting to touch her had been the most agonizing desire he'd ever had, and when he had been given the chance to on that fateful night when he took her for the last time, he wasted every moment of it. Instead of the tender caresses and gentle words he wished to give to her, he had thrown her around like a doll and yelled at her in his anger. Now, seeing her so peaceful, her skin glowing against the firelight, he realized just how much torment he'd caused her. At first, he'd been in love with her beauty, and then her voice, but soon he had come to recognize his love to be far beyond an obsession. It had become real love, and when she kissed him, he knew exactly what it was to care for someone so much, you would sacrifice your own happiness for them.
Still, he couldn't help being very selfish. He continued to dream of her and want for her, and the dreaming never ceased. He was sure it never would as long as he lived. It was better to live for all eternity consumed in the fires of hell than to want what he could not have. Than to be engulfed in the desire that he could not sate.
"Christine..." he whispered, "I want you to forgive me..."
He swallowed as his eyes filled with remorse, "Please, say you'll forgive me.... Say I can go on for a little while longer, knowing you are not angry with me... Please..."
His fingertips again stroked the baby-soft skin of her cheek, but this time instead of her startling, her eyes opened slightly, and she smiled.
"Erik..." she breathed, turning her head as she coughed heavily into the pillows of the couch.
Her throat was sore and dry at this point, and her head was pounding, but a happiness filled her to replace the mourning that had budded deep within.
"Christine..." he whispered with a small smile, taking a cup of room temperature water from the table and slowly helping her to sip the liquid.
After consuming most of the contents of the little cup, she sighed with relief and closed her eyes momentarily.
"I'm so.... so very tired, Angel..." she muttered.
Erik gravely took the rag and drew it over her supple lips, "Yes.... Go to sleep then..."
Christine obeyed without quite meaning to, her head lolling to one side and the slow rhythm of breathing returning to her.
"Sleep well, mon cheri." he said quietly, and stood to make a bit of tea in the kitchen.
Megan Giry sighed as she wandered down the corridors of the Opera, wondering if there really was anything to do. Without practice going on all day like it usually did before a first performance, the energy that should have been completely gone by now was still remaining within her. It was a pity that her mother was ill and could not teach. It seemed as if anyone else who was able to teach the class had backed out simply because they weren't willing to watch a large group of noisy and rowdy ballet rats. Now they would be forced to work doubly hard the following day because of other people's carelessness. She looked around, stopping at the top of the Grand Staircase and scanning over the lower floor hoping for someone she knew to come out. But she was soon discouraged as she realized everyone was gone. It was late, at least 7:00 in the evening, and the only ones left were the chorus members and the ballet girls. This was even more of a disappointment, as she couldn't stand another moment with her fellow dancers. Finally, Meg realized she couldn't take their gossiping any longer. She missed Christine so terribly...
Lately she'd come to despise the Ghost for everything he'd done. He'd interfered with the perfect life Christine was going to lead. All of her friends missed her, the de Chagny was despairing, the Opera hadn't seen her in weeks, which was one of the largest problems. No one was coming to see Carlotta sing. Partly because she no longer sang in her full glory, the absence of Piangi having lowered the once Prima Donna's spirits. The second reason, and most important, was that Christine had begun to attract so many prominent aristocrats that the Opera was soon becoming a well known theater. Unfortunately, she vanished before any real reputation for greatness could be conceived.
The Opera was dark now, lit only by a few glowing candles that would soon burn out. In spite of all her mixed emotions, Meg found it very relaxing simply to sit on the cool, marble floor of the staircase and enjoy the warm, black air around her. Oh, God in Heaven, it was lovely. She took a deep breath, leaning against the railing of the stairs and closing her eyes. For now, all would be well, at least, until light returned to the old theater.
A yawn found its way out of her small mouth and drifted amidst the atmosphere. All was well....
"Pardon, mademoiselle... Please, I need to speak with you... Girl! Wake up!"
Had she really been asleep?? Meg sat upright and stared about her as if she was a deer suddenly caught off guard. A small hand came to her eyes to rub them awake and she blinked a few times, then stood slowly and stretched.
Half yawning, she remarked, "Who, exactly, are you, my dear?"
Meg perceived that the girl was probably only about six, but she appeared to be an ornery, strong headed little thing. She supposed this because of the rude awakening she'd given her.
"Girl!! We must find my sister's son!" the little annoyance grew louder.
"Excuse, -YOU-, -girl-, but -I- am not about to let you drag me on some imaginary expedition of yours!" Meg haughtily placed a fist at each of her hips and looked down upon the girl.
It was then that the little stubborn child burst into tears and covered her face with her tiny hands. Meg rolled her eyes, figuring that it was because she couldn't take being in the wrong, but then it came to dawn on her that perhaps this girl was really very afraid and was intent on getting help.
"What is it you need?" Meg half caringly questioned, still not willing to appear weak at the sight of someone's weeping.
"My sister's baby... He's gone..." the girl replied through her sobs, "She died a couple of days ago, and I saw a man take him away!!" she then stomped her foot in anger, "I followed but then he came to this place, and I got lost..."
Big, watery blue eyes came to meet with Meg's own brilliant jade ones, and they reminded her of how Christine's had always appeared since her first physical meeting with the 'Angel'.
Meg lifted an eyebrow curiously, "What's your name?" her hands then became limp at her sides again, no longer putting herself in a position that was intimidating to the little girl.
"Jeanette..." she sniffled, wiping her nose in a very un-ladylike fashion upon her arm.
"Oh, I see, then. Jeanette, what did this man look like?"
Meg wasn't at all prepared to go on another adventure. Too much had happened already, but her mother had always said that it was easier to help someone in need than to live life with a conscience that was larger than yourself.
"He was tall... And he wore a long cloak and a funny looking hat." the girl pressed a fingertip to her lips while she thought, "It happened so fast... I hardly remember his facial features... He had dark eyes. I remember them. They were enormous!! And.. and he seemed to keep to the shadows...."
Meg's eyes grew wider with every utterance, and her mouth soon became a gaping hole in the middle of her face. It could not be!! The Opera Ghost, alive??
"Where did he go, you said? To this Opera... -This- Opera??" Meg frantically questioned, taking the little girls hands and shaking them with enthusiasm.
"Yes..." Jeanette's voice quavered, but she was all-in-all, very calm, "He went into the darkness.... I was too scared to go there..."
Megan bit her tongue against a few very inappropriate words and made a cross across her chest, "The... darkness?"
"Yes..." the little girl twisted her toe on the ground as she grew impatient, "We have to find him!!"
Jeanette then proceeded to jump up and down in frustration, "I promised my sister!! I promised my sister!! He's mine now!"
"The child??" Megan reluctantly asked, afraid to really know anything more about this predicament.
"Yes!! Jacob..." she grew quiet again and sighed, "I don't have anyone else...."
Meg felt a great swell of pity for Jeanette, but to go down to the cellars... alone... with no one to protect her... Yet, the thought of that little boy, all alone with the murderous Opera Ghost... She narrowed her eyes with determination.
"Wait here...."
Jeanette followed, absolutely defying the ballerina's orders, "I have to come!! He's mine, now! I'll protect you!"
Clever, that was. A little girl protecting a sixteen-year old ballet rat. That would be the day.
"Jeanette, stay here. Just.... Just stay here!!" Meg attempted picking the girl up and placing her in another area, but soon after she turned her back the small pitter patter of tiny footsteps was heard behind her again, "Jeanette!"
Meg flashed around, meeting once again with those pleading eyes. A sigh escaped her and promptly following came a frustrated grunt, "Fine, but stay close.... Who knows, someone might have an appetite for 'Jeanette Stew'."
She quickly wished she hadn't said that. Her own nerves jumped at the thought.
((ok, that's chapter six *yawns* I'm all write-d out. well, read and review while I think of a plot for the next chapter!!! tehe when writer's block dissipates, one must take advantage of the opportunity!!))
Phantomgurl33: HA!! Your wish is my command!!
My Notes: This chapter will again return to third person (I think that's the right one?? I'm terrible with English and the like) and will now be involving a bit of 'action', if that's really what I should call it, that might spread into a few other chapters.
For the musical introduction, it is important that all of you reading this at one time in your life either go see the movie 'A Beautiful Mind', or buy the CD 'The Best of Charlotte Church'. Or you could just do it the easy way and download the song 'All Love Can Be'. I encourage you to listen to it before this chapter, if possible. It will be my song to introduce this chapter.
I am now going to go into a rave about the song...
Or rather, explain the importance of it. ;)
Since the first time I saw 'A Beautiful Mind', I was riveted. Yet, besides the brilliance of the movie, something else, a component of the movie, caught my attention. The song 'All Love Can Be', sang by Charlotte Church, always gives me absolute earth-shattering chills. This song is so haunting and beautiful, it can hardly be described!! I am listening to it right now *grin* and I can hardly tell you how wondrous this song is. It can be given to any of the three most prominent characters in POTO and fit them rather nicely. Besides that, it manages to even fit a portion of this next chapter. I was searching for the perfect song for this new creation of mine (literally pulling out at least fifteen CD cases, prepared to listen to every song on every disk by a numerous amount of musical authors, and from all different genres). Then it hit me and I went searching for my CD of Charlotte Church's best songs, but was sorely disappointed to find that it was probably among my other lost CD's (so many I can't keep track!! how sad). Luckily, when I came to the computer (where yet another pile of CD's awaited me and had been sitting for at least three days, at LEAST) I rummaged through the CD's and found it!!! YAY!! Ok, I'm finished.
Enjoy, dear readers...
"I will watch you,
In the darkness,
Show you love will see you through,
When the bad dreams,
Wake you, crying,
I'll show you all love can do,
All love can do,
I will watch,
Through the night,
Hold you in my arms,
Give you dreams where none will be,
I will watch,
Through the dark,
Till the morning comes,
All the light I'll take you through the night,
To see,
A light showing us all love can be.
I will guard you,
With my bright wings,
Stay till your heart learns to see,
All love can.... be......"
~The Best of Charlotte Church 'All Love Can Be'
Chapter Six:
"Is she well?" Nadir questioned, supporting the baby over his shoulder as the tiny essence slept.
It was quite a sight, the mysterious Persian man carrying a baby boy around the Opera Ghost's home. Yet, it seemed as if Nadir was quite at ease with the new occupation of mother and father. He never got frustrated when the child cried and never was rough with him. His past experienced surely helped, but it was his inborn personality that made him a most wonderful companion for the child.
"She is still unconscious..." Erik solemnly replied, standing and retrieving the bowl from the table next to the divan and proceeding to refill it with hot water from the kettle.
Erik spoke little as of late, which was a lot to say considering he never spoke much in the first place. Now, he was nearly always silent, and it was evident that he was simply trying to be strong. This incident had impacted him hard. Nadir had never seen him so afraid before, not even in Persia when his life was in danger of being taken from him. Back then he masked his feelings with a coldness, but his feelings for Christine had always been quite obvious. Why? Nadir could not know. All he could think of was that Erik loved her so deeply, it defeated all attempts of his to appear blank, for in truth he was not. Not anymore. What had replaced the open space within his soul was the ever brewing adoration for Christine. All he needed now was to be adored in turn.
It was not long before the baby was asleep, and Nadir had achieved another feat in ten minutes that would normally take any other person at the very least a half an hour. Yet, the Persian man did not take notice of his abilities or his success with the child. Something inside of him informed him that the little boy would not always be his responsibility, and so his aid was only needed for a short time.
"Erik, you said that she fell out of the carriage, did you not?"
The master of darkness managed a grunt of affirmation, which was more than he usually gave anyway, just as he returned with the freshly piping hot water. He took his place next to Christine on the settee and smoothed the hot rag over her forehead, a greatly pained expression upon his face as he examined the large gash across her head.
"Did anyone see you?" Nadir questioned again, having put the baby in the make-shift crib which had been constructed in a quarter of an hour.
"Yes. Of course they did." Erik murmured, his attention fully on the sleeping dove before him.
Nadir said no more. Both of them knew why he asked this. If someone had seen him in the light, taking a girl who had just been severely injured to an unknown location, they were sure to call the police or grow to have a dangerous curiosity within them. The very last thing they needed was people coming after them.
Erik was growing desperate for something, anything to give Christine that jolt of life she needed to awaken. He would do anything now, just to hear her voice again.
"It is strange, Erik, to see you reduced to a shivering child before her." Nadir said grimly.
"There is nothing strange about it..." Erik replied in a hushed whisper that was ragged from his exhaustion, "I've told you time and time again how my feelings for her overcome everything I am. I told her that I was her servant, once, a dog at her feet who would do anything for its master. You know this as well as I do."
Nadir nodded, turning to take the baby to his room and stay there until he awoke, "Sometimes there is weakness in you that you do not even suspect."
Erik turned a fiery gaze toward the door which had only just shut behind Nadir. He looked back to Christine and sighed, rubbing his eyes and face wearily. How long would it be until she awoke? He wasn't sure he could handle watching her like this for long.
The fire that was now alive yet again in his home crackled and popped as it grew, warming the house sufficiently for once. Its every flame created a dancing light that played upon her features so beautifully. One of Erik's gentle fingertips grazed her temple, and to his utter surprise she jumped slightly.
Murmuring, she whispered something to herself that was hardly audible, but he figured she spoke of the cold, not realizing it was really his hand that had touched her instead of a draft. His lips were only a small length apart from hers as his cool breath cascaded over every feature of her face. When she slept, he found a confidence unknown to him in her presence, and the longer she stayed asleep, the more it grew within him. Wanting to touch her had been the most agonizing desire he'd ever had, and when he had been given the chance to on that fateful night when he took her for the last time, he wasted every moment of it. Instead of the tender caresses and gentle words he wished to give to her, he had thrown her around like a doll and yelled at her in his anger. Now, seeing her so peaceful, her skin glowing against the firelight, he realized just how much torment he'd caused her. At first, he'd been in love with her beauty, and then her voice, but soon he had come to recognize his love to be far beyond an obsession. It had become real love, and when she kissed him, he knew exactly what it was to care for someone so much, you would sacrifice your own happiness for them.
Still, he couldn't help being very selfish. He continued to dream of her and want for her, and the dreaming never ceased. He was sure it never would as long as he lived. It was better to live for all eternity consumed in the fires of hell than to want what he could not have. Than to be engulfed in the desire that he could not sate.
"Christine..." he whispered, "I want you to forgive me..."
He swallowed as his eyes filled with remorse, "Please, say you'll forgive me.... Say I can go on for a little while longer, knowing you are not angry with me... Please..."
His fingertips again stroked the baby-soft skin of her cheek, but this time instead of her startling, her eyes opened slightly, and she smiled.
"Erik..." she breathed, turning her head as she coughed heavily into the pillows of the couch.
Her throat was sore and dry at this point, and her head was pounding, but a happiness filled her to replace the mourning that had budded deep within.
"Christine..." he whispered with a small smile, taking a cup of room temperature water from the table and slowly helping her to sip the liquid.
After consuming most of the contents of the little cup, she sighed with relief and closed her eyes momentarily.
"I'm so.... so very tired, Angel..." she muttered.
Erik gravely took the rag and drew it over her supple lips, "Yes.... Go to sleep then..."
Christine obeyed without quite meaning to, her head lolling to one side and the slow rhythm of breathing returning to her.
"Sleep well, mon cheri." he said quietly, and stood to make a bit of tea in the kitchen.
Megan Giry sighed as she wandered down the corridors of the Opera, wondering if there really was anything to do. Without practice going on all day like it usually did before a first performance, the energy that should have been completely gone by now was still remaining within her. It was a pity that her mother was ill and could not teach. It seemed as if anyone else who was able to teach the class had backed out simply because they weren't willing to watch a large group of noisy and rowdy ballet rats. Now they would be forced to work doubly hard the following day because of other people's carelessness. She looked around, stopping at the top of the Grand Staircase and scanning over the lower floor hoping for someone she knew to come out. But she was soon discouraged as she realized everyone was gone. It was late, at least 7:00 in the evening, and the only ones left were the chorus members and the ballet girls. This was even more of a disappointment, as she couldn't stand another moment with her fellow dancers. Finally, Meg realized she couldn't take their gossiping any longer. She missed Christine so terribly...
Lately she'd come to despise the Ghost for everything he'd done. He'd interfered with the perfect life Christine was going to lead. All of her friends missed her, the de Chagny was despairing, the Opera hadn't seen her in weeks, which was one of the largest problems. No one was coming to see Carlotta sing. Partly because she no longer sang in her full glory, the absence of Piangi having lowered the once Prima Donna's spirits. The second reason, and most important, was that Christine had begun to attract so many prominent aristocrats that the Opera was soon becoming a well known theater. Unfortunately, she vanished before any real reputation for greatness could be conceived.
The Opera was dark now, lit only by a few glowing candles that would soon burn out. In spite of all her mixed emotions, Meg found it very relaxing simply to sit on the cool, marble floor of the staircase and enjoy the warm, black air around her. Oh, God in Heaven, it was lovely. She took a deep breath, leaning against the railing of the stairs and closing her eyes. For now, all would be well, at least, until light returned to the old theater.
A yawn found its way out of her small mouth and drifted amidst the atmosphere. All was well....
"Pardon, mademoiselle... Please, I need to speak with you... Girl! Wake up!"
Had she really been asleep?? Meg sat upright and stared about her as if she was a deer suddenly caught off guard. A small hand came to her eyes to rub them awake and she blinked a few times, then stood slowly and stretched.
Half yawning, she remarked, "Who, exactly, are you, my dear?"
Meg perceived that the girl was probably only about six, but she appeared to be an ornery, strong headed little thing. She supposed this because of the rude awakening she'd given her.
"Girl!! We must find my sister's son!" the little annoyance grew louder.
"Excuse, -YOU-, -girl-, but -I- am not about to let you drag me on some imaginary expedition of yours!" Meg haughtily placed a fist at each of her hips and looked down upon the girl.
It was then that the little stubborn child burst into tears and covered her face with her tiny hands. Meg rolled her eyes, figuring that it was because she couldn't take being in the wrong, but then it came to dawn on her that perhaps this girl was really very afraid and was intent on getting help.
"What is it you need?" Meg half caringly questioned, still not willing to appear weak at the sight of someone's weeping.
"My sister's baby... He's gone..." the girl replied through her sobs, "She died a couple of days ago, and I saw a man take him away!!" she then stomped her foot in anger, "I followed but then he came to this place, and I got lost..."
Big, watery blue eyes came to meet with Meg's own brilliant jade ones, and they reminded her of how Christine's had always appeared since her first physical meeting with the 'Angel'.
Meg lifted an eyebrow curiously, "What's your name?" her hands then became limp at her sides again, no longer putting herself in a position that was intimidating to the little girl.
"Jeanette..." she sniffled, wiping her nose in a very un-ladylike fashion upon her arm.
"Oh, I see, then. Jeanette, what did this man look like?"
Meg wasn't at all prepared to go on another adventure. Too much had happened already, but her mother had always said that it was easier to help someone in need than to live life with a conscience that was larger than yourself.
"He was tall... And he wore a long cloak and a funny looking hat." the girl pressed a fingertip to her lips while she thought, "It happened so fast... I hardly remember his facial features... He had dark eyes. I remember them. They were enormous!! And.. and he seemed to keep to the shadows...."
Meg's eyes grew wider with every utterance, and her mouth soon became a gaping hole in the middle of her face. It could not be!! The Opera Ghost, alive??
"Where did he go, you said? To this Opera... -This- Opera??" Meg frantically questioned, taking the little girls hands and shaking them with enthusiasm.
"Yes..." Jeanette's voice quavered, but she was all-in-all, very calm, "He went into the darkness.... I was too scared to go there..."
Megan bit her tongue against a few very inappropriate words and made a cross across her chest, "The... darkness?"
"Yes..." the little girl twisted her toe on the ground as she grew impatient, "We have to find him!!"
Jeanette then proceeded to jump up and down in frustration, "I promised my sister!! I promised my sister!! He's mine now!"
"The child??" Megan reluctantly asked, afraid to really know anything more about this predicament.
"Yes!! Jacob..." she grew quiet again and sighed, "I don't have anyone else...."
Meg felt a great swell of pity for Jeanette, but to go down to the cellars... alone... with no one to protect her... Yet, the thought of that little boy, all alone with the murderous Opera Ghost... She narrowed her eyes with determination.
"Wait here...."
Jeanette followed, absolutely defying the ballerina's orders, "I have to come!! He's mine, now! I'll protect you!"
Clever, that was. A little girl protecting a sixteen-year old ballet rat. That would be the day.
"Jeanette, stay here. Just.... Just stay here!!" Meg attempted picking the girl up and placing her in another area, but soon after she turned her back the small pitter patter of tiny footsteps was heard behind her again, "Jeanette!"
Meg flashed around, meeting once again with those pleading eyes. A sigh escaped her and promptly following came a frustrated grunt, "Fine, but stay close.... Who knows, someone might have an appetite for 'Jeanette Stew'."
She quickly wished she hadn't said that. Her own nerves jumped at the thought.
((ok, that's chapter six *yawns* I'm all write-d out. well, read and review while I think of a plot for the next chapter!!! tehe when writer's block dissipates, one must take advantage of the opportunity!!))