A/n: Another chapter so soon! I'm happy with how fast I updated. I hope
you'll enjoy this chapter, even though it's very short.
I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Gaston Leroux does. This song also comes from my hymnbook (what can I say, there are a lot of good songs there). It's written by Grace Noll Crowell, and the music is by Phillip Landgrave. It's called 'Because I Have Benn Given Much'.
Enjoy!
~~~~~~
Emily hid underneath the covers of her bed, crying. If only her sister hadn't come! Amy had always found something wrong with her after Mother died-including the fact that if Emily had only come home when she was supposed to, their Mother would not have gone out into the rain to get her, gotten sick, and died.
She tried to sing to calm herself, a song Mother had taught her when she was three.
"} Because I have...been given much....I too...must give.
Because....of they great bounty, Lord,...each day I...live.
I shall...divide my gifts....from thee...with ev'ry brother that I see
Who....has the need...of help...from me.{"she couldn't get any further.
*****
Erik walked calmly down the halls of the Opera. Rehearsals were off for the day, and the only people there would be the managers and crew. Very few would have to go near the dressing rooms, which left him free to wander down the halls. It didn't matter if only one or two people saw him-he just didn't like walking down halls where he might run into a crowd of ballet rats or such.
But as Erik passed Emily's room he heard the faint sound of crying. Worried, he made his way to the two-way mirror, and saw Emily buried in blankets, shaking and crying. He wanted to say something, but wasn't quite certain if he should. After all, he was hidden from sight. He sighed quietly, before the thought came to him. He walked back to her door, hesitated, then knocked.
Almost two minutes later, the door opened a crack, showing Emily's tear- stained face. She gasped and her eyes widened in shock.
"Monsieur Erik?" she asked softly.
"Are you alright, Mademoiselle?" he asked, worried.
She sniffed, and then nodded. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?"
He smiled. "I was simply walking by." He answers.
She smiled and laughed weakly. "Everything is 'simple' to you, isn't it?"
He laughed. "I suppose so." He hesitated. "May I come in?"
Emily nodded and stepped back, opening the door. He slowly stepped in. She closed the door behind him and went and sat on the bed. He took the chair from the vanity and placed it facing across from her, and sat, uninvited.
"Why have you been crying?" He asked softly.
"I-I..." she hesitated.
"Is it personal?" he asked. She nodded. "Then do not answer."
Emily sighed. She had to get this off her chest.
"It's my sister."
"You're sister?" he asked, confused.
"She came for a visit from England. But every time she comes..." her throat closed up and she paused to breathe.
"What?" he pressed gently.
"She always manages to find something wrong with me. And..." she took in a deep breath, but whispered to herself, "But I suppose its true enough, I shouldn't be upset about it."
"About what?"
"Well..."she closed her eyes and shook her head, but then stopped and opened them and answered, "When I was very young, five I think, I went to a friends house. I was told to be home before dark, but I was having so much fun I decided it wouldn't hurt if I stayed longer. It was only a few houses down, so I didn't think it would matter. But it started raining. A few hours later, my Mother, who already had a cold, walked into the rain and went to my friend's house to get me because she was worried I was kidnapped. She took off her shawl and covered me as went back. After that she became very sick. And...and she died." She paused to choke back sobs. "And it seems Amy's favorite thing to do is remind me that it was my fault Mother died."
Erik sighed softly. Poor Emily. All this time thinking that because of her they had lost their Mother. It was difficult enough to lose someone you cared about. Thinking it was your fault, and at such a young age...and to have it last so long...
"Emily." Erik said softly, using her first name as she began to cry again. "Emily. Listen to me." she looked up into his eyes, and his heart constricted in pain at the sight of the tears and pain and utter grief in her eyes, "It was /not/ your fault. You were young. You did not know that your Mother would get sick. If you had known chances are you may not even have left your house. She may not have even gotten ill, but there was the chance. Sometimes things happen that should not. You couldn't have known she might have died. She left the house of her own free will. She left because she was worried about you, because she loved you. Do you think she would have blamed you?"
Emily sniffed. "No, but Amy said-"
"You're sister just needed someone to blame. Most people will blame someone who as not at fault for a loved one dying, because it makes them feel better. It is /not/ your fault, Emily. Alright?"
Emily nodded, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "When you put it that way."
Erik smiled faintly. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now, where is your sister?"
"I don't know. I left her at the-at the-with Mother."
"And Emma?"
"She's at Mary's."
Erik smiled. "Well. Perhaps I ought to visit you both."
Emily frowned. "Now?"
"Now."
Emily smiled, understanding. "Alright."
Erik stood, and helped Emily up. He smiled.
"Let's go."
~~~~~
Please review. I'm sorry it's so short, but I was working on the first chapter of my new phic, White Roses.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail
I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Gaston Leroux does. This song also comes from my hymnbook (what can I say, there are a lot of good songs there). It's written by Grace Noll Crowell, and the music is by Phillip Landgrave. It's called 'Because I Have Benn Given Much'.
Enjoy!
~~~~~~
Emily hid underneath the covers of her bed, crying. If only her sister hadn't come! Amy had always found something wrong with her after Mother died-including the fact that if Emily had only come home when she was supposed to, their Mother would not have gone out into the rain to get her, gotten sick, and died.
She tried to sing to calm herself, a song Mother had taught her when she was three.
"} Because I have...been given much....I too...must give.
Because....of they great bounty, Lord,...each day I...live.
I shall...divide my gifts....from thee...with ev'ry brother that I see
Who....has the need...of help...from me.{"she couldn't get any further.
*****
Erik walked calmly down the halls of the Opera. Rehearsals were off for the day, and the only people there would be the managers and crew. Very few would have to go near the dressing rooms, which left him free to wander down the halls. It didn't matter if only one or two people saw him-he just didn't like walking down halls where he might run into a crowd of ballet rats or such.
But as Erik passed Emily's room he heard the faint sound of crying. Worried, he made his way to the two-way mirror, and saw Emily buried in blankets, shaking and crying. He wanted to say something, but wasn't quite certain if he should. After all, he was hidden from sight. He sighed quietly, before the thought came to him. He walked back to her door, hesitated, then knocked.
Almost two minutes later, the door opened a crack, showing Emily's tear- stained face. She gasped and her eyes widened in shock.
"Monsieur Erik?" she asked softly.
"Are you alright, Mademoiselle?" he asked, worried.
She sniffed, and then nodded. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?"
He smiled. "I was simply walking by." He answers.
She smiled and laughed weakly. "Everything is 'simple' to you, isn't it?"
He laughed. "I suppose so." He hesitated. "May I come in?"
Emily nodded and stepped back, opening the door. He slowly stepped in. She closed the door behind him and went and sat on the bed. He took the chair from the vanity and placed it facing across from her, and sat, uninvited.
"Why have you been crying?" He asked softly.
"I-I..." she hesitated.
"Is it personal?" he asked. She nodded. "Then do not answer."
Emily sighed. She had to get this off her chest.
"It's my sister."
"You're sister?" he asked, confused.
"She came for a visit from England. But every time she comes..." her throat closed up and she paused to breathe.
"What?" he pressed gently.
"She always manages to find something wrong with me. And..." she took in a deep breath, but whispered to herself, "But I suppose its true enough, I shouldn't be upset about it."
"About what?"
"Well..."she closed her eyes and shook her head, but then stopped and opened them and answered, "When I was very young, five I think, I went to a friends house. I was told to be home before dark, but I was having so much fun I decided it wouldn't hurt if I stayed longer. It was only a few houses down, so I didn't think it would matter. But it started raining. A few hours later, my Mother, who already had a cold, walked into the rain and went to my friend's house to get me because she was worried I was kidnapped. She took off her shawl and covered me as went back. After that she became very sick. And...and she died." She paused to choke back sobs. "And it seems Amy's favorite thing to do is remind me that it was my fault Mother died."
Erik sighed softly. Poor Emily. All this time thinking that because of her they had lost their Mother. It was difficult enough to lose someone you cared about. Thinking it was your fault, and at such a young age...and to have it last so long...
"Emily." Erik said softly, using her first name as she began to cry again. "Emily. Listen to me." she looked up into his eyes, and his heart constricted in pain at the sight of the tears and pain and utter grief in her eyes, "It was /not/ your fault. You were young. You did not know that your Mother would get sick. If you had known chances are you may not even have left your house. She may not have even gotten ill, but there was the chance. Sometimes things happen that should not. You couldn't have known she might have died. She left the house of her own free will. She left because she was worried about you, because she loved you. Do you think she would have blamed you?"
Emily sniffed. "No, but Amy said-"
"You're sister just needed someone to blame. Most people will blame someone who as not at fault for a loved one dying, because it makes them feel better. It is /not/ your fault, Emily. Alright?"
Emily nodded, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "When you put it that way."
Erik smiled faintly. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now, where is your sister?"
"I don't know. I left her at the-at the-with Mother."
"And Emma?"
"She's at Mary's."
Erik smiled. "Well. Perhaps I ought to visit you both."
Emily frowned. "Now?"
"Now."
Emily smiled, understanding. "Alright."
Erik stood, and helped Emily up. He smiled.
"Let's go."
~~~~~
Please review. I'm sorry it's so short, but I was working on the first chapter of my new phic, White Roses.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail