A/N Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! They are much appreciated…
Erik coming soon!
Chapter 2
The Note
I estimated that I had been at the Opera Populaire for the time span of one week. I felt horrible, these generous people watched me around the clock for the first several days, and I could offer nothing in return! They brought me fresh clothes, as the ones I had been wearing that night were old, tattered, and dirty. They brought me fine food; its sweet touch would linger on my mouth for hours after the meal.
When I felt strong enough to get back on my feet, I began aiding Madame Giry and the Opera Managers. I would perform small errands for them, rather it be running a script to certain singers and dancers or informing some people that they were needed on stage. The way that these people smiled at me whenever I did something that was of great help for them made me feel useful – for the first time in my life I was useful.
It was about mid afternoon on the seventh day that I had been in the Opera House and I stood in front of my mirror buttoning my new blouse. Tonight Madame Giry had invited me and several other workers at the Opera House to a small café in Paris. I carefully ran a comb through my stringy hair, which still, despite the fact that I had washed it – oh I had actually been able to wash my hair! – Many a time, it still looked matted and dirty.
I looked into the mirror, my eyes working their way down my body, resting on my arm. Still in its heavy cast, it was a reminder of that night – it was a reminder of what I had been.
Since I had come to the Opera, I had tried to start a new life. Within these sheltered walls far from the prying eyes and the taunts of men, I felt as if I was renewed. My past life was behind me, those days, those miserable days that were still fresh wounds in my mind, would always be there. Though if I chose not to think about them, then I could pretend that I was any normal person, that I was normal.
A soft tap came at the door and I turned walked over, using my right hand, the uninjured arm, I turned the door knob. I was surprised to find Monsieur Andre standing there in my door frame. When I opened the door he walked immediately into the room, and I backed up against the wall. Men coming into my room aroused fresh memories.
"What is it you want, Monsieur?" I asked my voice wavering and uncertain.
"My dear Miss Dane," he said, smiling and taking a step towards me.
I backed up, though there was no where to go, unless I could go through the wall. I looked around uncertainly, I had grown not to trust men, and they were so unpredictable. They could be charming and sweet at one moment and demonic the next.
"My dear, you look like you've seen a ghost…I hope that the Opera Ghost hasn't paid you a visit has he?" Andre asked, chuckling. the smile still gracing his aging face.
"Opera Ghost?" I asked uncertainly, still edged up tight against the wall.
"You haven't heard the story?" Andre asked, a frown creasing his face. "Ah well, I guess that they didn't want to scare you away," he added.
I said nothing for a moment and an uncomfortable silence fell between us – what did this man want of me!
"Oh of course, my reason for visiting you…" he said after the pause. He then produced from his coattails a thick script. "I'm leaving to go visit my wife outside of Paris the weekend and I was wondering if you would give this script to Madame Giry. She has been a rather nag of late, pestering me for this, I would be indebted to you if you gave it to her," he explained setting the script on my bed.
"Thank you, Monsieur; I shall give it to her tonight!" I said, with a bit more certainty edging into my voice, though I still was up against the wall.
"Thank you, mademoiselle," he said, before turning and striding out the door, it closing quickly behind him.
I sat down on the bed, my chest heaving with relief. Having been alone with a man again opened up the wounds on my soul, those wounds that would never heal. I had sworn to myself, the day that I became a…whore…that I would never become attached to a man.
And I hadn't yet and I never would.
A few moments later, Meg came to my door and together we strode down through the winding halls and corridors down to the streets outside the Opera Populaire. A carriage, drawn with two beautiful white horses, stood waiting for us. Madame Giry and two other women from the Opera House stood by the carriage.
As we approached, Madame Giry made to help me into the carriage, but I pressed the script that the manager had given me into her arm. "This is from Andre, he insisted that you had it while he was out of the city this weekend," I said shortly, before climbing into the cab, unassisted.
The restaurant trip was wonderful; we went to a small café in a quite square in Paris. The food was wonderful, even better than what they served in the Opera House! I savored every bite I took; eating quickly, for fear that the food would disappear if I blinked.
I discovered that the two women who accompanied us were the Seamstress at the Opera and the other woman was her assistant. Between the three of them, Madame Giry, the Seamstress and assistant they gave very good stories. When it would be Madame Giry's turn to tell a story, Meg would blush deeply from her place sitting beside me and whisper in my ear to insist me that her story wasn't true.
I spent most of the evening listening; I was never one to talk out in the crowds. Though Madame Giry and the others would attempt to include me in, I would always say a short sentence and back right out of the conversations.
Once the carriage had returned us to the Opera, we all parted our separate ways, though Meg showed me once again to my room, as I was still not familiar with the winding passages of the Opera House. "Of course we wouldn't want you to get lost," Meg said, laughing as she led me along a dark corridor. "You could very well end up in the Opera Ghosts' domain," she added, emitting a short laugh.
A small frown emitted on my face, this was the second time in one night when I had heard about the Opera Ghost. I wondered why all these people talk about him...I wondered what he had done for the Opera, probably nothing really good.
"Meg, who is this Opera Ghost?" I asked her, reaching out with my good hand, clasping her shoulder.
I could see worry come over Meg's face, "No one, he is long dead now," she said shortly. "Come, Carolina, if we do not return you to your room we might get lost!" She said, and I could tell that her voice held no room for questioning.
Once Meg had shown me my room and had turned and headed back down the hall towards the dormitories where she slept I took the candle she had given to me and lit my lamp. Light immediately spread to the room and I felt relief slip into me as the light washed into all of the dark corners. I guess that I liked everything light because the shadows scared me…so many things had come out of the shadows.
I pulled off my dress and settled into a fresh white night gown. The silk fabric brushed my arm, sending shivers up my spin. This was a generous reward from the rough cotton fabric that had so long been the source of my clothes. I pulled back the covers on the bed, slipped in and was getting ready to blow out the candle, when I noticed a letter by the light.
Strange, I thought, this hadn't been there before I had left.
I reached over and picked it up, and surveyed it, there was a thick wax seal on the back. It was dark red color, the color of blood, and stamped into it was the face of a skull. What a strange way to seal a letter…
Using my right hand, I opened the letter, and out fell a piece of paper. Written on it was luxurious sprawling handwriting.
The letter read:
Dear Mademoiselle Cara,
First off, I welcome you to my Opera House, and I am glad to see that you are actually trying to help out the managers and workers here – believe me, they need it.
Though, while you are in the spirit of retrieving things, I am in very much need of clothing, candles, and some food. You see, my reputation makes it near impossible for me to get out into the public eye. It would be the greatest gift if you could get these to me by this time tomorrow night it would be wonderful.
Don't worry about me, I'll come to you.
Sincerely,
O.G
Do you think that I captured Erik well? More of him to come in the next chapter!
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