A/N- This was not updated until a week after I wrote it...for some reason, my
new fanfic is not on the website anymore and I was blocked from creating a
new story and/or updating until a week later! If anyone knows why, please
tell me in your review or send me an e-mail. Hope you like the new chappie!
And I'm goin' see Troy on Sunday! YAYETH! PS- RubyMoon2, you get a smiley!
- YAYETH! (and I cannot say who the second person is...one of the two is
correct!)
VIII.
Christine sat with her hands folded gracefully on her lap. She had her eyes fixed on the floor. She never spoke when it came to therapy. The waiting room had not changed much in a year. Still the same marble black walls, still the same secretary, still the same horrible feeling she got whenever she was there.
The black dress that she had worn that day had the bodice pulled tight and accented her nice curves. She had had lace on the collar and the sleeves. It had belonged to Mama Valerius. Christine was left with it after she had died. The beautiful dress looked wonderful on her, though it sat uncomfortably on her limp form. She had always admired the dress of Mama Valerius when she was young, but she had always wished it as a color other than black. Christine knew that black was a mourning color and had always loved rainbows of color upon everything. She asked Mama Valerius many a time if she could wear the dress and try to imagine it a different color. Mama Valerius would always reply that she was too little for such a big dress, but she herself would always imagine it a different color. Now, Christine understood that it should always be black. She understood mourning for she was deep in mourning for as long as she could remember.
She distracted herself from bleak thoughts by looking about the room she knew all too well though it did nothing to help calm herself. She noticed that the walls had been neatly polished and saw that they had added a chair or two. Not that anyone would want to sit in the uncomfortable chairs; apparently they had gotten a new patient or two. She also saw that they had added a nursery. She had figured that it was most probably for the babies of crazy mothers to wait in, but she saw men and women her age playing in there. Some people had a worse condition than hers. That gave her a boost of confidence.
"Christine Daae," called the secretary in her usual hazy tone.
Christine sunk back down in her chair, all confidence forgotten. She really loathed the long walk down the dark, silent halls, but today, she loathed it even more. She told herself that she had to do it sometime, so she rose, shaking, from the chair and started her long walk down the hall.
She had noticed at the beginning of her walk that the rain had gotten harder. There were no windows in the hall, but she could hear the rhythmic beatings upon the hard ceiling. She started to hum a familiar tune. Before she knew it, she was singing, her voice echoing off the marble walls:
"Say you'll share with me one love one lifetime...
Say the words and I will follow you...
Share each day with me, each night, each moment...
Say you love me..."
"You know I do," a voice answered. She stopped singing, but continued to walk as if she had not heard it.
A little time later she heard it again, "Christine, I know you hear me...come to me..."
"Laisser moi, Diable! Leave me, Devil!", she cried to no one. She turned about herself and looked once more down the empty halls. She turned and turned until darkness completely surrounded her and there was no difference in her eyes between the way she came from and the way she was going. She was lost.
"Papa," she sobbed, "why did you leave me? I cannot live alone..." she sobbed into the darkness. She sat on the ground, her face in her hands, her dress wrinkled and tears covering her.
"Christine," said the voice again. She had figured it was her imagination playing tricks on her so she remained in her position. "Christine," it called again.
"Christine!", it called a final time and she finally looked up to see Dr. Gilroy standing above her.
"Oh! Monsieur, forgive me, I have forgotten my way..."
"Think nothing of it, mademoiselle," said Dr. Gilroy in reply. He helped her off of the ground and Christine saw that he was carrying a candle this time, and he was not alone.
"I am very sorry for taking so long to come and get you. I was just getting finished with another patient. I expect you can find your way from here?", he questioned of the patient. He nodded. Christine took a better look at the patient. He was tall and had a sweet face. His hair was slightly mussed and a chestnut brown. His lips were rosy and he had a smile on his face. That was the first time Christine had ever seen someone smile at therapy.
The man politely bowed to Christine, but when he had gotten up from his bow, he looked deep into her face and looked shocked. He stood there frozen for a few moments when Christine said, "Good day, Monsieur, I am..." and just when she was going to say her name, Dr. Gilroy pulled her by the arm and said, "Come on, dear, it is time for your appointment." Christine starred after the young man and looked into his eyes. His eyes looked back. Christine looked on in shock...his eyes were baby blue.
Christine walked along side Dr. Gilroy in silence, waiting for someone to speak. When they finally got to the room, she felt a sense of dread. She hated her appointments because she always had a headache afterwards, and she never remembered what had happened. Maybe this time would be different.
Dr. Gilroy said, "Good day, mademoiselle."
"Monsieur, I keep getting headaches after my appointments and I don't know why..." said Christine.
"Well, why don't you sit down?" and he shoved her into the nearest chair. She struggled and yelled, but it was no use. He was too strong. He gave her a tranquilizer. She wouldn't remember anything that had happened. She sat upright in her chair. The doctor sat down in a chair right behind her, whispering in her ear, "You will now obey my every command." She nodded. He loved getting information from the little Daae girl. She had been very foolish in her life. But now, he had found a use for her. He had always been against the Opera ghost, ever since his mother, Carlotta, had been a direct target for his pranks. Dr. Gilroy had always sought revenge for the cruel treating of his mother, but had never found a way to get it. Now the Daae girl was leaking information about the past and who was connected to the ghost.
"Tell me everything you know of the Opera Ghost," he whispered. And she told him, never knowing what she was doing, who was involved, or who owned the two golden eyes that were watching her all the while.
A/N- Very sorry for weirdfulness (cool, new word!)...oh well...R & R...and BlueBeauty, I do not have any instant messenger...long story...THANX TO MY STUPID SISTER! PS- Sup Linky! I didn't call you yet, but I will soon! I'll be waiting for your answer...MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! clears throat Sorry about that...Review!
VIII.
Christine sat with her hands folded gracefully on her lap. She had her eyes fixed on the floor. She never spoke when it came to therapy. The waiting room had not changed much in a year. Still the same marble black walls, still the same secretary, still the same horrible feeling she got whenever she was there.
The black dress that she had worn that day had the bodice pulled tight and accented her nice curves. She had had lace on the collar and the sleeves. It had belonged to Mama Valerius. Christine was left with it after she had died. The beautiful dress looked wonderful on her, though it sat uncomfortably on her limp form. She had always admired the dress of Mama Valerius when she was young, but she had always wished it as a color other than black. Christine knew that black was a mourning color and had always loved rainbows of color upon everything. She asked Mama Valerius many a time if she could wear the dress and try to imagine it a different color. Mama Valerius would always reply that she was too little for such a big dress, but she herself would always imagine it a different color. Now, Christine understood that it should always be black. She understood mourning for she was deep in mourning for as long as she could remember.
She distracted herself from bleak thoughts by looking about the room she knew all too well though it did nothing to help calm herself. She noticed that the walls had been neatly polished and saw that they had added a chair or two. Not that anyone would want to sit in the uncomfortable chairs; apparently they had gotten a new patient or two. She also saw that they had added a nursery. She had figured that it was most probably for the babies of crazy mothers to wait in, but she saw men and women her age playing in there. Some people had a worse condition than hers. That gave her a boost of confidence.
"Christine Daae," called the secretary in her usual hazy tone.
Christine sunk back down in her chair, all confidence forgotten. She really loathed the long walk down the dark, silent halls, but today, she loathed it even more. She told herself that she had to do it sometime, so she rose, shaking, from the chair and started her long walk down the hall.
She had noticed at the beginning of her walk that the rain had gotten harder. There were no windows in the hall, but she could hear the rhythmic beatings upon the hard ceiling. She started to hum a familiar tune. Before she knew it, she was singing, her voice echoing off the marble walls:
"Say you'll share with me one love one lifetime...
Say the words and I will follow you...
Share each day with me, each night, each moment...
Say you love me..."
"You know I do," a voice answered. She stopped singing, but continued to walk as if she had not heard it.
A little time later she heard it again, "Christine, I know you hear me...come to me..."
"Laisser moi, Diable! Leave me, Devil!", she cried to no one. She turned about herself and looked once more down the empty halls. She turned and turned until darkness completely surrounded her and there was no difference in her eyes between the way she came from and the way she was going. She was lost.
"Papa," she sobbed, "why did you leave me? I cannot live alone..." she sobbed into the darkness. She sat on the ground, her face in her hands, her dress wrinkled and tears covering her.
"Christine," said the voice again. She had figured it was her imagination playing tricks on her so she remained in her position. "Christine," it called again.
"Christine!", it called a final time and she finally looked up to see Dr. Gilroy standing above her.
"Oh! Monsieur, forgive me, I have forgotten my way..."
"Think nothing of it, mademoiselle," said Dr. Gilroy in reply. He helped her off of the ground and Christine saw that he was carrying a candle this time, and he was not alone.
"I am very sorry for taking so long to come and get you. I was just getting finished with another patient. I expect you can find your way from here?", he questioned of the patient. He nodded. Christine took a better look at the patient. He was tall and had a sweet face. His hair was slightly mussed and a chestnut brown. His lips were rosy and he had a smile on his face. That was the first time Christine had ever seen someone smile at therapy.
The man politely bowed to Christine, but when he had gotten up from his bow, he looked deep into her face and looked shocked. He stood there frozen for a few moments when Christine said, "Good day, Monsieur, I am..." and just when she was going to say her name, Dr. Gilroy pulled her by the arm and said, "Come on, dear, it is time for your appointment." Christine starred after the young man and looked into his eyes. His eyes looked back. Christine looked on in shock...his eyes were baby blue.
Christine walked along side Dr. Gilroy in silence, waiting for someone to speak. When they finally got to the room, she felt a sense of dread. She hated her appointments because she always had a headache afterwards, and she never remembered what had happened. Maybe this time would be different.
Dr. Gilroy said, "Good day, mademoiselle."
"Monsieur, I keep getting headaches after my appointments and I don't know why..." said Christine.
"Well, why don't you sit down?" and he shoved her into the nearest chair. She struggled and yelled, but it was no use. He was too strong. He gave her a tranquilizer. She wouldn't remember anything that had happened. She sat upright in her chair. The doctor sat down in a chair right behind her, whispering in her ear, "You will now obey my every command." She nodded. He loved getting information from the little Daae girl. She had been very foolish in her life. But now, he had found a use for her. He had always been against the Opera ghost, ever since his mother, Carlotta, had been a direct target for his pranks. Dr. Gilroy had always sought revenge for the cruel treating of his mother, but had never found a way to get it. Now the Daae girl was leaking information about the past and who was connected to the ghost.
"Tell me everything you know of the Opera Ghost," he whispered. And she told him, never knowing what she was doing, who was involved, or who owned the two golden eyes that were watching her all the while.
A/N- Very sorry for weirdfulness (cool, new word!)...oh well...R & R...and BlueBeauty, I do not have any instant messenger...long story...THANX TO MY STUPID SISTER! PS- Sup Linky! I didn't call you yet, but I will soon! I'll be waiting for your answer...MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! clears throat Sorry about that...Review!