A/N~ I hope you all are having a great winter break, I am! I am also trying to update each story at least once, so lets see how this goes, huh? We are getting to the good part!

HEARING IS BELIEVING

"No! We can't! I finally have friends! I am happy here!" Tears ran down Kat's face as she argued desperately.

"We are going to move to New Hampshire whether you want to or not, so get used to it. You don't have to like it. And watch your mouth, Kathryn!"

She knew she was acting like a baby, but it was her life too. "I deserve a say! I don't want to move!" Kat stomped her foot. By the look on her dad's face, she knew she had gone too far.

A sound slap knocked Kat to the floor. "SHUT UP! YOU LITTLE DEMON!" Even in her pain, Kat had to smile at the familiar phantom term. "Think you're funny, do you? Well I will give you something to laugh about!"

Before Kat could dodge, it, a shark kick caught her in the stomach. Her face turned white and everything looked pale as the room spun around. Grabbing her arm, Mr. Nelsen pulled her to her feet and slammed her into the wall. He leered at her, daring her to cry out.

As he leaned closer, Kat smelt alcohol in his breath. Slowly he began to squeeze her arm and twist it. Kat whimpered. "You bitch," he hissed. With a snap, he broke Kat's arm and dumped her into the closet. Locking the door, he laughed.

"Oh yes, little one," Kat's father grinned. "Happy Birthday."

As he stomped away, Kat burst into tears at the overwhelming pain in her arm. She couldn't move it at all. Sniffing, she cradled her arm and sat.

Kat waited for someone to open the door. Usually she was only locked in it for a few minutes. But after a half an hour, no one had relieved her. Worriedly, she banged the door. She could tell the air in the small closet was going stale.

'If I don't get out of this closet, I am gonna die!' Kat thought as she threw her weight against the door. But it was no use. Slumping against the door, Kat banged her arm and screamed in pain. Sudden tears of shock ran down her cheeks as excruciating pain made its way up her arm to her elbow.

Kat sat down again and sobbed. She didn't care if anyone heard her. She didn't care about being brave. All she wanted was someone to hold her till she stopped crying; to take care of her arm; to brush her hair from her face and tell her it was alright. But there was no one.

"What a way to spend your fourteenth birthday," Kat murmured to herself through her tears. Talking made her bare the darkness better. Suddenly a song came to her head. She hummed for a moment, then sang softly, "Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation..."

Laying her head against a coat, Kat sang louder. "Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write, for I compose the music of the night."

Suddenly Kat stopped and looked about her in the dark. She had heard someone quietly laughing behind her. Cautiously she stuck her left arm out and felt around her, but there was only coats.

She shook her head and lectured herself, "Look! Now you are so obsessed you hear him in your closet! He isn't real! He isn't! And if he was, he wouldn't worry himself about you! Oh great, now I am having an argument with myself about whether the phantom is real or not. Good going Kat." Suddenly she fell and gasped, "I think I need oxygen!"

As she fainted, Kat fell against the door and it opened as though it had not been locked.

She woke up a few hours later in the sunshine and fresh air, and with an arm the size of a baseball bat. Wincing, she sat up and carefully looked at the closet door. To her surprise, the lock was torn off.

The next day, Kat sat in the emergency room with a cast on her arm. "How long, doctor?" Kat repeated in disbelief.

"Three to four months, I am afraid." Dr. Thompson smiled. "I don't know what you do, but you always manage to bang yourself up hard."

Kat blushed. "Um, yeah."

An awkward silence followed. Finally the doctor spoke up, "Well, come back in six weeks, and tell your parents I will send the bill." Kat nodded.

On the way home, Kat thought about her door. Someone had pulled the lock off, just ripped it right out of the door. But who could pull a padlock off, without making a noise?

That night, Kat's arm hurt from the swelling, and her eye hurt from the punch her dad had thrown her for ruining the door, even though there was no way she could have done it.

But she took her headphones and crawled onto the roof with a blanket. It was a strangely warm night for November, and Kat sat underneath the stars, listening to her phantom. Tears welled up in her blue eyes as the beautiful music played.

Finally she whispered to the sky, "Phantom, wherever you are... I know your not real, and that I am a drama queen. And that I am an idiot for talking to myself. But... I know how you feel. I'm not wanted, either. I wish you were real, because then we would have someone to talk to, who understands."

Brushing her tears away, she climbed back inside and crawled into bed. Leaving the window open, she gazed at the stars, and into the dark night, she sighed, "Please be real. For me. I need you to be real." Just then the last words of her favorite song came to mind, and she quietly sang, "You alone can make my song take flight...help me make the music of the night."

A/N~ Well this is the saddest chapter yet! *Brushes away tear* But this story should be told, so onward I type. R&R, please! Much Love, Kat. *Blows a kiss*