A/n: I'm sorry for the long wait. This chapter was harder to write then I
thought it would be, and I've had little time to write.
I don't know if there actually would be a bed in a dressing room, so I took the liberty of adding one.
I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.
Chapter Eight: Your Fault
~~~~
Emily rolled over in bed. Thank goodness she had that day off; she couldn't get out of bed, she was so tired! She haden't slept well that night, though she didn't quite know why. She sighed. Emma would wake up soon, and she'd be hungry. She got out of bed reluctantly and slowly went down the stairs.
The smell of eggs cooking on the stove, and freshly squeezed grapefruit rushed to her. Surely Emma wasn't awake yet.........
"Hello there, dear sister of mine." Came an oddly cold voice.
"Amy?" Emily asked, seeing her older sister.
"Who else?" said her older sister by a year.
"What are you doing here?"
"Aren't I allowed to visit the littlest Lamb sister?" Amy asked.
"Well.........yes."
"Excuse me, I have to make sure those eggs don't burn." Amy said, giving Emily a look like she knew Emily had burned the pan again, and she walked back into the kitchen.
There was a banging sound upstairs. Emma was coming down.
"Emily.........?" Emma mumbled.
"Yes, honey?" she asked as Emma began coming down the stairs.
"Shouldn't you be watching the food?"
"No, I am." Amy said from the kitchen. Emma glared into the kitchen.
"Amy?"
"Ahem?" Amy asked.
"Miss Amy?" Emma said.
"Yes. I decided to come for a little visit."
"Oh." Emma said, frowning. "How long?"
"A week, perhaps." Amy answered. "Now, if you're going to speak to me, come in here. It isn't polite to shout."
"Oh." Emma said.
Emily sat on the couch with a sigh. Why did Amy have to come for a visit? She was always so...uptight.
"After breakfast you're going to Mary's, Emma." Amy said, walking back into the room. "And Emily and I are going to the graveyard."
Emily shuddered. That was why she always called it 'visiting Mother'. Calling it going to the graveyard made her feel sick.
"But...Emily said we could go to the park today." Emma said, giving a pleading look to Emily.
"That was before she knew I was coming. Now, you go on upstairs and get dressed and I'll serve breakfast."
"Yes, Miss Amy." Emma said, going upstairs disappointed.
Amy walked back into the kitchen, Emily following.
"You know, you used to be so much warmer and easy-going." Emily reminded her.
"I /also/ used to have a Mother." Amy shot back, placing an egg on a plate.
"...but...um...."
"Emily! I need help!" Emma called from upstairs.
"I'll be back." Emily sighed.
*****
"Can't I just come with you?" Emma asked.
"No, Emma." Emily sighed. "Amy doesn't want you to."
Emma pouted.
"Why did she come?"
"I don't know, Emma." Emily sighed. "Probably to..." she let it off. Emma was upset enough-she should at least act like she liked her sister more then she really did, and not give Emma more reason to be upset.
"Can't you just talk to her? Won't she be nicer if you tell her how sad it makes you when you two talk?" Emma asked.
Emily smiled faintly. She couldn't hide anything from Emma.
"No, I don't think so, Emma. Come on, let's go eat breakfast."
*****
Amy and Emily strolled through the graveyard. Emily sincerely wished she had to work that day, or at least had an appointment. Maybe she could run into James at the graveyard. Or maybe even Erik...
"Well, here she is." Amy said coldly, standing over their Mothers' grave. Emily sighed. She had to hear this every time Amy came and visited. Or anytime they saw each other, for that matter.
"Yes." Emily said softly. She knelt, fighting back tears. She had trouble enough visiting the grave, and she knew what memories were going to come.
"Look." Amy said, looking in the distance. "It's going to /rain./" she finished venomously. Yes, it was going to rain soon.
"Amy-"
Amy knelt down in front of Emily, glaring at her with her eyes on fire.
"It's your fault she died! So don't you /dare/ go crying in front of me!" Amy said. Emily heard the tears building in Amy's voice, but dared not mention it. She bit her lower lip.
"If you had just come home when you said you would, she wouldn't have gone out in the rain to find you! She wouldn't have gotten sick!"
"Amy, please-"
"Be quiet, I don't want to hear you!" Amy said, covering her ears. Emily fought back a sob.
Amy continued.
"It's your fault we're all alone, that Emma had to grow up with only brief memories of her mother! Your fault Father's alone! Yours!"
"Amy, I was young, and-"
"No excuses!" Amy uncovered her ears. "You did this! You killed her!"
"No, I didn't, I-"
"You may as well have!" Amy shouted as loud as she could.
Rain began to fall. Emily stood. Amy continued blaming Emily as loudly as she could, but Emily had blanked it out. She wanted to run. But to where? Not the house. Amy would be back there only half an hour after Emily had gotten there. She needed more time alone then that. Not Mary's, either-she wouldn't be alone to cry.
Amy didn't know Emily worked at the Opera.
So Emily turned and ran-in the oncoming storm-towards the Opera.
~~~~
I'm sorry the chapters so short. As I said earlier, I don't have much time to write, and I'm saving the next scene for the next chapter.
Well...I guess I'll see you all at the next chapter.
Please review.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail
I don't know if there actually would be a bed in a dressing room, so I took the liberty of adding one.
I do not own the Phantom of the Opera.
Chapter Eight: Your Fault
~~~~
Emily rolled over in bed. Thank goodness she had that day off; she couldn't get out of bed, she was so tired! She haden't slept well that night, though she didn't quite know why. She sighed. Emma would wake up soon, and she'd be hungry. She got out of bed reluctantly and slowly went down the stairs.
The smell of eggs cooking on the stove, and freshly squeezed grapefruit rushed to her. Surely Emma wasn't awake yet.........
"Hello there, dear sister of mine." Came an oddly cold voice.
"Amy?" Emily asked, seeing her older sister.
"Who else?" said her older sister by a year.
"What are you doing here?"
"Aren't I allowed to visit the littlest Lamb sister?" Amy asked.
"Well.........yes."
"Excuse me, I have to make sure those eggs don't burn." Amy said, giving Emily a look like she knew Emily had burned the pan again, and she walked back into the kitchen.
There was a banging sound upstairs. Emma was coming down.
"Emily.........?" Emma mumbled.
"Yes, honey?" she asked as Emma began coming down the stairs.
"Shouldn't you be watching the food?"
"No, I am." Amy said from the kitchen. Emma glared into the kitchen.
"Amy?"
"Ahem?" Amy asked.
"Miss Amy?" Emma said.
"Yes. I decided to come for a little visit."
"Oh." Emma said, frowning. "How long?"
"A week, perhaps." Amy answered. "Now, if you're going to speak to me, come in here. It isn't polite to shout."
"Oh." Emma said.
Emily sat on the couch with a sigh. Why did Amy have to come for a visit? She was always so...uptight.
"After breakfast you're going to Mary's, Emma." Amy said, walking back into the room. "And Emily and I are going to the graveyard."
Emily shuddered. That was why she always called it 'visiting Mother'. Calling it going to the graveyard made her feel sick.
"But...Emily said we could go to the park today." Emma said, giving a pleading look to Emily.
"That was before she knew I was coming. Now, you go on upstairs and get dressed and I'll serve breakfast."
"Yes, Miss Amy." Emma said, going upstairs disappointed.
Amy walked back into the kitchen, Emily following.
"You know, you used to be so much warmer and easy-going." Emily reminded her.
"I /also/ used to have a Mother." Amy shot back, placing an egg on a plate.
"...but...um...."
"Emily! I need help!" Emma called from upstairs.
"I'll be back." Emily sighed.
*****
"Can't I just come with you?" Emma asked.
"No, Emma." Emily sighed. "Amy doesn't want you to."
Emma pouted.
"Why did she come?"
"I don't know, Emma." Emily sighed. "Probably to..." she let it off. Emma was upset enough-she should at least act like she liked her sister more then she really did, and not give Emma more reason to be upset.
"Can't you just talk to her? Won't she be nicer if you tell her how sad it makes you when you two talk?" Emma asked.
Emily smiled faintly. She couldn't hide anything from Emma.
"No, I don't think so, Emma. Come on, let's go eat breakfast."
*****
Amy and Emily strolled through the graveyard. Emily sincerely wished she had to work that day, or at least had an appointment. Maybe she could run into James at the graveyard. Or maybe even Erik...
"Well, here she is." Amy said coldly, standing over their Mothers' grave. Emily sighed. She had to hear this every time Amy came and visited. Or anytime they saw each other, for that matter.
"Yes." Emily said softly. She knelt, fighting back tears. She had trouble enough visiting the grave, and she knew what memories were going to come.
"Look." Amy said, looking in the distance. "It's going to /rain./" she finished venomously. Yes, it was going to rain soon.
"Amy-"
Amy knelt down in front of Emily, glaring at her with her eyes on fire.
"It's your fault she died! So don't you /dare/ go crying in front of me!" Amy said. Emily heard the tears building in Amy's voice, but dared not mention it. She bit her lower lip.
"If you had just come home when you said you would, she wouldn't have gone out in the rain to find you! She wouldn't have gotten sick!"
"Amy, please-"
"Be quiet, I don't want to hear you!" Amy said, covering her ears. Emily fought back a sob.
Amy continued.
"It's your fault we're all alone, that Emma had to grow up with only brief memories of her mother! Your fault Father's alone! Yours!"
"Amy, I was young, and-"
"No excuses!" Amy uncovered her ears. "You did this! You killed her!"
"No, I didn't, I-"
"You may as well have!" Amy shouted as loud as she could.
Rain began to fall. Emily stood. Amy continued blaming Emily as loudly as she could, but Emily had blanked it out. She wanted to run. But to where? Not the house. Amy would be back there only half an hour after Emily had gotten there. She needed more time alone then that. Not Mary's, either-she wouldn't be alone to cry.
Amy didn't know Emily worked at the Opera.
So Emily turned and ran-in the oncoming storm-towards the Opera.
~~~~
I'm sorry the chapters so short. As I said earlier, I don't have much time to write, and I'm saving the next scene for the next chapter.
Well...I guess I'll see you all at the next chapter.
Please review.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail