Disclaimer: Scientists say that one out of four people are insane. So ask three of your friends, if they're okay- then it's you. I don't know how this is relivant. *evil grin/smirk*
A promise kept.
A new chapter.
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-
...nothing would ever be the same.
The first thing that Erik was aware of was the smell of his favorite tea. The spicy Russian blend roused him from his slumber, his stomach growling like he hadn't eaten in days. In which, Erik could testify as true.
Slowly, his eyes opened to see the coffin cover. Sighing, he opened it up as his third sense came into play. Music…. Someone was playing on his grand piano. Putting on his mask, he stepped out of his room and crossed the study. As he got closer, he could here a mezzo soprano singing to the sad song. He listened outside the door to his music room as she sang.
"Look at me
And tell me who I am
Why I am
What I am
Call me a fool
And it's true I am
I don't know who I am.
It's such a shame
I'm such a sham
No one knows who I am."
Erik stepped into the room; his eyes grew wide as he saw it was Dawn playing the piano. Although he knew no one else could have gotten into his home, he didn't think Dawn would be capable to play the piano. She was blind, how could she see the correct keys? But that didn't seem to phase Dawn. Her unseeing eyes were shut tight as she sung, he throaty, elegant voice floating out- full of passion.
"Once there were sweet possibilities
I could see
Just for me
Now all my dreams are just memories
Faded
Never to be
Time's not a friend
Hurrying by
I wonder who I am."
Erik watched her play. And for the first time, as if outside the haze of Christine, he noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was dark against her fair, fair skin. Her face glowed in the candlelight, and the passion was so evident in the way she played, sang, and sat. But he didn't love her… however the lust was obvious.
"Am I the face of the future?
Am I the face of the past?
Am I the one who must finish…
Last?"
She was so much like him. With Christine, especially he felt as if he was always a step behind. That no matter what he did, he would always finish last. He shut his eyes to enjoy the music.
"Look at me and tell me who I am
What I am
Why I am
Will I survive?
Who will give a damn?
If no one knows who I am…"
Erik felt the connection between him and the girl grow stronger. She knew him; she knew what it was like. To be him… to feel like he did… to feel alone and without hope.
"Nobody knows…
Not even you…
No one knows who I am…"
She held the note out, her clear voice quiet, yet loud in it's intensity. Erik's eyes snapped open and he stepped closer to her.
"Bravo, my dear, that was excellent."
Clearly startled, Dawn gasps and turns. Her face was turning red from embarrassment.
"I was unaware that I was being watched," she paused. "But thank you for your compliment."
"You are very welcome, child." He paused, examining her before sitting beside her on the piano bench. "Tell me, how can you play?"
She froze at how close he was. Shifting a bit, she placed her hands back on the keys. "Simply really, I memorized where the keys are." She glanced in my direction. "Surely you can play with your eyes closed?"
He smirked, "How do you know I play?"
"Your hands have calluses on them. So I knew that you had to play some kind of string instrument. And your voice, the way you speak, it is that of a singer. And I'm guessing you are not the type that just has pianos and organs lying about for show."
He chuckled. "Right you are, little one. I do play, yes. Piano, organ, violin, flute… and many others."
"Organs are lovely… I remember, when I used to sleep inside churches… the sound of a mass in the morning, lovely."
"You are Christian, then?"
Dawn frowned. "No. I was raised one at first… my mother told me I was a bane and would continue to be until I had accepted God and Jesus. I was four when I learned what bane was… my mother never called me by my name you know… she always called me Bane…" she paused. "Curse."
Erik frowned as well. 'Fond' memories of his mother arose. "Indeed, my mother did not like me either." He paused. "Why did your mother think you were a curse?"
"I had gotten the evil eye. She thought I was Satan's child, not hers. Sent to punish her for cheating on my father. But before that? She thought I was a sin. God taught her not to give into the original sin but she did."
Erik noticed that her hands had tightened around the piano. He knew that had she been holding a glass it would have shattered.
"Did you make tea?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.
"Yes," she said, getting up and walking to the table where it was laid. "Russian tea… with lemon," she paused. "I hope you don't mind me invading your kitchen."
"No, not at all," He sat down and watched as she sat across from him. "How did you know where it was?"
"Smell," she said. " And touch. I got to know your kitchen…" She took a sip of her tea. "You don't eat much but you have a wine cellar."
"How'd you-?"
"The hallow wood on the floor and the stock of nonperishable food." She looked at him . "Hardly any of it was eaten and I could tell it had been there for a little bit."
He took a sip of his tea. "Mm, this is good." He drank his entire cup in one gulp, pouring another.
She chuckled, hearing him. "I have been told that I'm an excellent cook."
"So, tell me, did you compose that piece?" He asked, taking another sip.
She nodded. "I did."
"Do you compose often?" He asked, watching her.
"Yes, it's the closest I can get to painting," she said, sadly.
"You really do love to paint?" he asked.
"Oh yes, with a passion." She pulled something out of her dressing gown pocket. It was a tattered piece of paper. "It's a bit old but… this was the last piece I did…"
She handed him the paper and he opened it. And gasped. It was incredibly well done and horrifying.
In the picture, it was a face of a young girl. Her lips were pouting and tears of blood were streaming down her face. The most vivid part of the picture was however, was the fact that the girl's hair was on fire. In the fire, there were warped pictures. One of a reflection in a shattered mirror. One of a woman pressing a cross into the girls face. One of demons lurking over a person's sleeping body. The last one of a black rose. He shut the page, almost hearing the scream that was resonating from it.
"Who is the girl in the picture?"
"Me," she whispered. "I was eight when I drew that. I was blinded three days later, the night of my ninth birthday. I ran away four weeks later."
"Where did you get this idea?" He asked, opening the picture again, gazing at it cautiously.
"It was my life, except the shadows… that was my dream."
"Your dream?" he inquired.
"I dreamt that I really was Satan's child. And he sent his demons to bring me home." She held her hand out for the picture. He handed it back and touched her wrist.
"She's not going to hurt you again," Erik said, wishing he could look into her eyes.
"No," Dawn said as she stood, "she doesn't need to. She did enough damage the first time."
She turned away and pushed in her chair. She turned back slightly.
"I'm glad you enjoyed the tea, if you'll excuse me. I think… I'm going to take a nap." Her eyes were teary and her chin was trembling but she didn't let the threatening tears spill over.
She walked over to the door to the music room. She turned the knob and opened the door. Before she left, however, she said, "I know you wear a mask." She looked at his shocked face, not really seeing his expression. "Maybe during our next conversation, you'll tell me why."
And with that, she left a stunned Erik, alone.
-*-
Same rules apply! 5 reviews= New chapter
itesting/i
PS: Go visit my webpage for cast lists and new chapter reports! ((You can find the address on the first chapter of this story))
A promise kept.
A new chapter.
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-
...nothing would ever be the same.
The first thing that Erik was aware of was the smell of his favorite tea. The spicy Russian blend roused him from his slumber, his stomach growling like he hadn't eaten in days. In which, Erik could testify as true.
Slowly, his eyes opened to see the coffin cover. Sighing, he opened it up as his third sense came into play. Music…. Someone was playing on his grand piano. Putting on his mask, he stepped out of his room and crossed the study. As he got closer, he could here a mezzo soprano singing to the sad song. He listened outside the door to his music room as she sang.
"Look at me
And tell me who I am
Why I am
What I am
Call me a fool
And it's true I am
I don't know who I am.
It's such a shame
I'm such a sham
No one knows who I am."
Erik stepped into the room; his eyes grew wide as he saw it was Dawn playing the piano. Although he knew no one else could have gotten into his home, he didn't think Dawn would be capable to play the piano. She was blind, how could she see the correct keys? But that didn't seem to phase Dawn. Her unseeing eyes were shut tight as she sung, he throaty, elegant voice floating out- full of passion.
"Once there were sweet possibilities
I could see
Just for me
Now all my dreams are just memories
Faded
Never to be
Time's not a friend
Hurrying by
I wonder who I am."
Erik watched her play. And for the first time, as if outside the haze of Christine, he noticed how beautiful she was. Her hair was dark against her fair, fair skin. Her face glowed in the candlelight, and the passion was so evident in the way she played, sang, and sat. But he didn't love her… however the lust was obvious.
"Am I the face of the future?
Am I the face of the past?
Am I the one who must finish…
Last?"
She was so much like him. With Christine, especially he felt as if he was always a step behind. That no matter what he did, he would always finish last. He shut his eyes to enjoy the music.
"Look at me and tell me who I am
What I am
Why I am
Will I survive?
Who will give a damn?
If no one knows who I am…"
Erik felt the connection between him and the girl grow stronger. She knew him; she knew what it was like. To be him… to feel like he did… to feel alone and without hope.
"Nobody knows…
Not even you…
No one knows who I am…"
She held the note out, her clear voice quiet, yet loud in it's intensity. Erik's eyes snapped open and he stepped closer to her.
"Bravo, my dear, that was excellent."
Clearly startled, Dawn gasps and turns. Her face was turning red from embarrassment.
"I was unaware that I was being watched," she paused. "But thank you for your compliment."
"You are very welcome, child." He paused, examining her before sitting beside her on the piano bench. "Tell me, how can you play?"
She froze at how close he was. Shifting a bit, she placed her hands back on the keys. "Simply really, I memorized where the keys are." She glanced in my direction. "Surely you can play with your eyes closed?"
He smirked, "How do you know I play?"
"Your hands have calluses on them. So I knew that you had to play some kind of string instrument. And your voice, the way you speak, it is that of a singer. And I'm guessing you are not the type that just has pianos and organs lying about for show."
He chuckled. "Right you are, little one. I do play, yes. Piano, organ, violin, flute… and many others."
"Organs are lovely… I remember, when I used to sleep inside churches… the sound of a mass in the morning, lovely."
"You are Christian, then?"
Dawn frowned. "No. I was raised one at first… my mother told me I was a bane and would continue to be until I had accepted God and Jesus. I was four when I learned what bane was… my mother never called me by my name you know… she always called me Bane…" she paused. "Curse."
Erik frowned as well. 'Fond' memories of his mother arose. "Indeed, my mother did not like me either." He paused. "Why did your mother think you were a curse?"
"I had gotten the evil eye. She thought I was Satan's child, not hers. Sent to punish her for cheating on my father. But before that? She thought I was a sin. God taught her not to give into the original sin but she did."
Erik noticed that her hands had tightened around the piano. He knew that had she been holding a glass it would have shattered.
"Did you make tea?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.
"Yes," she said, getting up and walking to the table where it was laid. "Russian tea… with lemon," she paused. "I hope you don't mind me invading your kitchen."
"No, not at all," He sat down and watched as she sat across from him. "How did you know where it was?"
"Smell," she said. " And touch. I got to know your kitchen…" She took a sip of her tea. "You don't eat much but you have a wine cellar."
"How'd you-?"
"The hallow wood on the floor and the stock of nonperishable food." She looked at him . "Hardly any of it was eaten and I could tell it had been there for a little bit."
He took a sip of his tea. "Mm, this is good." He drank his entire cup in one gulp, pouring another.
She chuckled, hearing him. "I have been told that I'm an excellent cook."
"So, tell me, did you compose that piece?" He asked, taking another sip.
She nodded. "I did."
"Do you compose often?" He asked, watching her.
"Yes, it's the closest I can get to painting," she said, sadly.
"You really do love to paint?" he asked.
"Oh yes, with a passion." She pulled something out of her dressing gown pocket. It was a tattered piece of paper. "It's a bit old but… this was the last piece I did…"
She handed him the paper and he opened it. And gasped. It was incredibly well done and horrifying.
In the picture, it was a face of a young girl. Her lips were pouting and tears of blood were streaming down her face. The most vivid part of the picture was however, was the fact that the girl's hair was on fire. In the fire, there were warped pictures. One of a reflection in a shattered mirror. One of a woman pressing a cross into the girls face. One of demons lurking over a person's sleeping body. The last one of a black rose. He shut the page, almost hearing the scream that was resonating from it.
"Who is the girl in the picture?"
"Me," she whispered. "I was eight when I drew that. I was blinded three days later, the night of my ninth birthday. I ran away four weeks later."
"Where did you get this idea?" He asked, opening the picture again, gazing at it cautiously.
"It was my life, except the shadows… that was my dream."
"Your dream?" he inquired.
"I dreamt that I really was Satan's child. And he sent his demons to bring me home." She held her hand out for the picture. He handed it back and touched her wrist.
"She's not going to hurt you again," Erik said, wishing he could look into her eyes.
"No," Dawn said as she stood, "she doesn't need to. She did enough damage the first time."
She turned away and pushed in her chair. She turned back slightly.
"I'm glad you enjoyed the tea, if you'll excuse me. I think… I'm going to take a nap." Her eyes were teary and her chin was trembling but she didn't let the threatening tears spill over.
She walked over to the door to the music room. She turned the knob and opened the door. Before she left, however, she said, "I know you wear a mask." She looked at his shocked face, not really seeing his expression. "Maybe during our next conversation, you'll tell me why."
And with that, she left a stunned Erik, alone.
-*-
Same rules apply! 5 reviews= New chapter
itesting/i
PS: Go visit my webpage for cast lists and new chapter reports! ((You can find the address on the first chapter of this story))