Chapter two: sorrowful echoes

I slowly opened my eyes and slipped at last from the horrid world I had slipped into, only to find myself in one much worse. I looked around my small room and out the grimy windowpane. So far the day had proved to be dank and dismal, with dull gray clouds and constant mist, which kept the town thoroughly soggy.

I pondered at the sounds that came from downstairs. I climbed reluctantly out of the warmth of my bed and opened the door into the hallway. I looked down it reluctantly towards my father's room and thought sadly to myself. Never again would I hear his bright laughter or explicit fairy tales. Never again would I hear sweet violin music waft its way through the house and somehow into the very depths of my soul. I padded over to the staircase and began to walk down the creaky steps.

"Good morning," greeted Sister Mary Elizabeth cheerfully, "I take it you slept alright?"

I nodded. She seemed pleased enough.

"Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed, walking over to me, "You're as thin as a broom handle! Come sit and have some breakfast. Perhaps it'll help to put some meat on those bones of yours."

She hurried me over to the table and plopped me down into one of the plush chairs. I looked around the kitchen table, it seemed surprisingly empty. Ever since my father had been diagnosed, no one had had any time to keep house. Normally there would have been newspapers and sheet music my father had been studying for his violin. I wouldn't call it messy; it had always been a comfortable sort of clutter. The Sister bustled about restlessly before ladling me a portion of porridge and placing it before me. She returned moments later with a spoon, pitcher of cream, and the sugar bowl.

"Eat up now, dear," she said, mixing in a large portion of cream and sugar as if I were a small child and could not do so myself, "it will certainly take quite awhile to get you all cleaned up and presentable."

I looked down solemnly at my porridge and began to stir it a bit before placing it in my mouth. It was sweet, and warm too. I hadn't eaten a decent meal in quite some time, as I couldn't cook for myself and everyone was busy with my father. I eagerly emptied the bowl and handed it to her. She placed it in the sink and began scrubbing it vigorously with a bit of soap. I remained seated at the table.

I watched as she dried it and put it in its place in the cupboard. She turned around when she was finished to face me.

"Now, cleaning you up," she said, taking hold of my arm and leading me up the stairs into my room. She held me at about arm's length and looked me over. I looked down at the dirt caked on my skin and my grimy nails. Her scrutiny lasted for several minutes before she finally said, "well, dear, I think you're about ready for a bath."

She took me down the hall to where our bathing room was. She opened a cupboard and produced a plush bathrobe, which she handed to me.

"Now," she said to me, you undress and put that robe on, and I'll go boil some water for your bath."

With that, she left me alone in the tiny room. I did as I was told, slipping out of my dirty nightgown and putting on the clean towel robe. As I tied the belt around my waist, I noticed something. I was much thinner now than I had been before. I looked in the mirror. Sister Mary Elizabeth was right. I looked terrible, a shell of my former self. Dark circles had formed around my eyes, which were deep set in my face now. Odd shadows made their way across my face where my plump cheeks were now replaced with sharp angular bones. My cheeks had once been rosy, but now I was pale and skeletal looking. My rich brown eyes no longer held happiness or hope, only sadness and grief. I had taken terrible care of myself. Father would have been ashamed of me.

Just then Sister Mary Elizabeth rushed in with a huge pewter pot filled almost to the brim with boiling water. She dumped the contents into the large porcelain bathtub which sat on ornate lions' feet. She rushed out of the room and reappeared a few moments later with another pot of water, this time cold. She also poured this into the large tub. I watched as swirls of steam rose up from the water and swirled around the room, fogging up the mirror and small window. When she had finished all of this, she wiped her brow and sat down on a nearby stool.

When she seemed to have caught her breath again, she stood up and walked over to me.

"Could you get into the tub, dear?" she panted.

I swallowed and nervously nodded. I was suddenly extremely uncomfortable. But I obliged, after all she had done for me, the least I could do was agree when she was only trying to help me. I slipped out of the robe and into the warm, soothing water. She got up from her stool and went over to the cabinet by the mirror and began rummaging through it.

She emerged clutching a bar of soap and a sharp-toothed comb. I gulped. It looked painful. She took the washcloth from the side of the tub and moistened it in the water beside me. After rubbing a bit of soap on the coarse fabric, she began to scrub my body vigorously. I watched as months of dirt and grime dissipated off of my body, turning the water dull and murky. She then proceeded to dunk my head back in the water, wetting my hair. As I sat up, I felt the weight of my wet curls pull my head down and stick to my back. Again she scrubbed vigorously, except this time in my hair. She pulled out the small comb and began to pull and prod at my thick rat's nest, with no success at first, until she had finally gotten all of the tangles out, after combing half of the hair out of my head. A sharp searing pain went into my head; it felt like a large needle was digging into my scalp. She cleaned the clumps of hair out of the comb, and proceeded once again to prod at my skull. I let out a sharp cry of pain as she did this.

"I'm sorry dear," she said to me, "but the lice on your head seem to be an epidemic. This is the only way to get rid of them."

I nodded and bit my lip, trying to endure the immense pain, but to no avail. I once again felt hot tears running down my cheeks. I looked down at the murky water surrounding me. There were tiny streams of blood from all of the work she had done on my scalp. I whimpered.

"There," she sighed, "I think that's about good."

I let out a small sigh of relief as she helped me out of the porcelain tub and onto the small rug. She quickly grabbed a towel from nearby and rubbed me dry until I was pink and warm. She stopped suddenly as she heard a sharp knock on the door downstairs.

"I'll be right back," she said as she left me once again in the bathroom as she answered the door. I walked to the tiny door of the room and peered into the hallway. I listened intently as Sister Mary Elizabeth undid the lock on the door and opened it with a creak.

"Oh, hello Father Brian," she greeted the person at the door.

"Good day, Sister," said the priest's voice.

"Well? Have you arranged for the…the…"

"Yes, it's all been taken care of. It should be tomorrow morning. Where is the child now?" He inquired.

"Oh, she's upstairs. She's doing quite well, actually. She ate breakfast this morning and I just finished cleaning her up."

"Very well, then. Good day," he said as he left.

"Good bye!" she called after him as she shut the door behind him. She sighed as she turned to walk up the stairs again. "Christine!" she called out to me, "Christine!"

"Yes, Sister?" I replied, wrapping the towel tighter around myself and stepping into the hallway to face her as she came up the old staircase.

"Ah," she said, "there you are. Well, Father Brian has arranged for your father's funeral to be tomorrow morning."

I nodded and looked sadly down at the floorboards. She put her arm around me and let me into my room, where she proceeded to go through my wardrobe while I sat on the bed and watched her intently. She pulled out one of my older dresses and handed it to me.

"Would you mind putting that on, dear?" she asked me.

I nodded as I slipped out of my towel while she continued looking through my wardrobe. I put the dress on, a bit course, but not bad.

"Well," she said, turning to face me, "it is quite late in the day, almost noon already!" she said, pulling out a pocket watch and showing it to me. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit," I answered. Father had taught me to never be too greedy.

"Of course," she said, greeting me with a kind smile, "could you keep yourself busy for awhile while I prepare you something to eat?"

I nodded.

"Very well, then. I'll call you when it's ready. Here, dear like this," she said, reaching for the towel and wrapping it around my shoulders, "that way you won't catch a cold." And with that she bustled out of the room and down the creaky stairs into the kitchen.

I stood in my room for a while, listening to her move around in the kitchen below. I crept over to the staircase and peered down below to make sure she was busy and well occupied. I backed up a bit and tiptoed down the hall to my father's room. I looked around. He had a wardrobe, a bed, a dresser, and a few pictures on the wall. I walked over to his dresser. He had little on it, a few yellowed pieces of music he had been poring over, a picture of me, and a picture of my mother.

I walked over to a corner of the room where he normally practiced his violin. Sheets of music lay in disorganized piles on the floor. Two music stands stood in his room, one short one, and one slightly taller. I remember standing at the shorter one some nights when he would play his violin so beautifully and ask me to sing along with it. Before we had come to Perros, we had been beggars, wandering the streets and earning money through our music. After my mother had died at our small house in Sweden, my father couldn't bear to be around so many memories of her.

"I just can't take it, Christine," he admitted to me one evening, "it's just so hard with so many memories of her." With that he began to cry. It was then we became wanderers. Mamma Valerius, as I grew to call her, discovered my father one afternoon in Paris. Paris had been one of my father's favorite cities. He loved all the colorful sights and sounds, all the people busily crowding the streets. One day my father and I were at the market, when a lady dressed in finer attire approached us.

"Monsieur," she said to my father, who stopped playing his violin as I stopped singing and looked up at then. I couldn't have been more than four years old at the time.

"Yes, Madame, how may I help you?" he replied.

"Well, you play the violin splendidly. And your daughter," she said, turning to look down at me, "has the voice of an angel."

"Thank you, Madame." My father replied politely.

"Sorry to bother you, but has anyone hired you yet?"

"Hired me?" he asked, quite surprised.

"Yes, as a personal musician. I'm prepared to offer you one thousand francs a month and room and board, I would also happily oblige to having your daughter educated."

My father just stood there, staring at her, mouth slightly ajar.

"Well?"

"Oh, um, of course," said my father, returning to his senses.

"Splendid! What's your name, Monsieur?"

"Gustave. Gustave Daaé. And this is my daughter, Christine."

"It's a pleasure, Monsieur. Do you have any belongings?"

My father reached behind him and produced a small suitcase, which held all of our belongings. He also packed up his violin and music in its case, then turned to face her.

"Very well, Monsieur," she said, gesturing to one of her servants to take our belongings, "follow me, my carriage is this way."

My father took my hand and led me along. We lived at Mamma Valerius's for a few years, and she treated me very well, as a mother would have. Our stomachs were always full, and she showered me with a variety of different toys. Whenever I ripped my dress, she insisted on buying me a new one. After living with her for a while, my father had gotten back on his feet and had enough money to support himself and buy us a cozy little house in Perros.

I returned to the present now, and continued to look through my father's belongings. I looked over to the very corner, and tucked safely there was my father's violin case. I hesitantly picked up the odd shaped object and carried out into the middle of the room. I undid the hatch and opened the case with caution. Inside lie my father's beautiful violin, still in perfect condition. He had always polished it to make sure the mahogany gleamed with incredible brilliance. I ran my fingers along the elegant curves and plucked a few strings. The tears started rolling down my face at a steady pace once again. I carefully picked up the violin and clutched it against my body, as if I held it tight enough I could somehow reach out and touch my father. Sobs racked mercilessly from my body, but not just my body, it seemed, but somewhere deep within my soul.

"Christine!" Came a faint calling from downstairs, "Christine, dear! Where are you?"

I heard a creaking as Sister Mary Elizabeth came up the stairs, and when she opened the door and found me, I barely even noticed. I did not turn from my father's precious violin to look at her.

"Oh, Christine," she said, hurrying over to where I lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, still coddling the violin protectively. She took me in her arms, where I sobbed until I could no longer.

Sorry I have to leave you with such a bad ending to this chapter, but if I wrote any longer, it would be way too long and just drag on and on. Thank you to my lovely reviewers! I love you all so much!

Nade-Naberrie: Wow, thanks so much! I didn't realize it, probably just because I'm being modest, as usual. LOL. Thanks again.

RenegadeMule: Gee, Ryan, could you be any more personal? LOL. jk. Thanks for reading and reviewing, even though you think phantom sucks even though you've never seen it. Oh well, you'll be seeing it and sound of music soon enough. Mua ha ha! btw, it's a fic, not a book! thanks for reviewing though!

TheHatEatingPossum: Thanks for the review! Bleck, I know, I caught that mistake after I had posted it. sigh I'll just have to go back and fix it later. I don't know if I'm just gonna stick to the original story or add some story lines of my own, but there are a few holes where I'll have to step in and add a plot or two. I'll try to update soon!

Thanks again everyone!