Yay! More happy reviews. Oh how they energize me! Now I have to write more, since it is Friday and all which means, WRITE ALL NIGHT! Hehehe, so all you Amile fans out there, be happy. And I am planning to have Amile see again soon. Yay. I also have not actually seen 'La Traviata', but since it is an opera that is old, I decided to put it in here. So don't point out any errors about it. I just know the story, that's it. So anyway, all those who feel bad for Amile, be happy! ::hands out Amile plushies to all who want one::

Chapter 9: Disaster

To Amile's delight, Erik started paying more attention to her. They had spent one whole year running around the opera house like the 'ghosts' that they were. She was thirteen and Erik couldn't have been more proud. She was beautiful. Her dark brown hair went to her waist but she usually tied it back with a ribbon. And her turquoise eyes glittered in any light. She was as pale as he was, obviously from living underground most of her life. And also to her delight, she went up to Box Five with him all the time now. She felt as if she was a five year old again. Young and happy. She and Erik were close again. That was all she needed.

The night came down like a curtain. 'La Traviata' was playing the next night. It had been one of Amile's favorites. She liked Violette's character because of how sensitive she was to other people. It seemed so similar to herself. Except she wasn't a courtesan.

That particular night, Amile was prowling around the dressing room areas. As quiet as a fox, she creeped to the end of the hall to where Christine's dressing room was. Since she was one of the top ballerinas, she had her own dressing room. Amile thought she was a spoiled brat because of it. The Opera Populaire's little princess. Standing by the doorway, she waited so she could scare Christine like she did so well. Christine had seen her on more than one occasion. Only as a red flash though. But it still scared her. Then, Amile heard voices coming from inside.

"Oh my angel. Please, come to me."

A second voice responded. One that Amile knew so well. Erik's voice.

"Yes my darling?"

"You have watched over me so long. Do you tend to anyone else, or love anyone else?"

Amile let out a soft growl. How dare that little brat ask that question! But then the answer came.

"No darling Christine. No one but you."

Amile gasped in a mix of horror, shock, and above all, anger. She wasn't hearing this. She couldn't be! The singing conversation continued. Amile heard the young soprano's voice. Erik was right, she did have the voice of an angel-to-be. The conversation ended and Christine came out. Amile covered herself with the blanket and let out the most dangerous growl she could muster. "You have taken something so dear to me away. You will regret this night." Christine screamed in fear and Amile sprung away like ghost she was. And she wasn't lying. Christine would regret it all.

The whole night was spent planning the ultimate revenge. A deed carried out so greatly, it would be burned into Christine's mind forever. She didn't talk to Erik once that night, nor during the day. Plans were creted and put aside, until one came about. Using all of Amile's intellect of course. She cackled to herself. She would not lose Erik to a simple little ballet girl with a high voice. Just as she had promised.

Attendees poured in the front doors. Excited to see the opera. To hear the voices, see the sights, take in it all. But that was not what Amile was there for. She told Erik she had been feeling a bit tired from lack of sleep and he excused her. He believed her since 'La Traviata' was a favorite of her's. So he went up. Using her knowledge of the tunnels that made up the labyrinth of the underground lair, she made it backstage in no time. Carefully prowling up the rafters, past Buquet and the other stagehands. She made it to her high rafter where Audron perched on her shoulder. She let out a soft laugh as she heard the excited sounds below her. Audron cooed happily. She grinned. "Don't worry about it, my friend. I will have my revenge. Christine won't know what hit her."

It started at last. Amile listened to the first couple minutes, and even managed to get through Carlotta's screeching solo, until she recognized Christine's act. The music began and Audron flew back into the rafters. Amile carefully went back down until she found a rope that held up a large piece of scenery. Buquet was no where to be seen. Probably watching the next set of ballerinas getting ready. She felt the rope in her hands and untied it, using all her strength to hold it up, until the perfect moment. She heard feet hit the floor closely to eachother, which meant they were right in the way. Then she let go. A smile took over her as she heard the music stop and the screams begin. She heard Buquet approaching. Donning her red blanket, she pranced away with ease.

News traveled through the opera house about the accident. Some did say it was an accident, and some said it was the Phantom. She curled up on her bed as soon as she got back to the lair. Holding back her laughs, she heard Erik march into the room. The sound of him begin to speak was stopped as he saw her. She looked as though she was sleeping. To add to the affect, she opened her eyes slowly and sat up. She was even so careful as to mess up her hair as though to appear to have slept a long time. "What's going on?" she said sleepily. He sat down tiredly in a chair next to her bed. "There was an accident upstairs. A piece of scenery fell on some girls." Then he gulped. "It fell on Christine too. Luckily, it was not fatal." She made herself look sympathetic. "Is anyone hurt?" she said gently. "Yes, just hurt, not dead." She nodded sleepily and fell back into the pillows, yawning. He stood up and stroked her hair gently, before he too, decided to try to get some sleep.