-blushes intensely- Aww, you guys! Thank you sooooooooo much for all of your reviews! I never thought that this story would be so popular! And I wish that I could respond to everyone, but stories are being reported if they do that. Sorry! And please meet my new co-author, Guinivere Sage.
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, The Phantom of the Opera, or Edgar Allen Poe (or any of his writings). I really don't own anything.
I hope that I got Mr Lancer's personality down. It was fun! To write about it, anyway.
Here's Chapter Three (Finally!):
I woke to the quiet knocking on my door. "Sam, get up. You're going to be late," Dad said. I sat up groggily, and realized that I was still in my day clothes. Not the most comfortable thing to sleep in.
I stumbled over to my closet and pulled out a black plaid skirt and a tank top and walked over to my private bathroom. ((A/N: I don't really know if Sam has a private bathroom. Sorry!))
I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment. Boy, did I look scary. With bags under my eyes and smudged mascara and my hair frizzing out straight from my head. I hastily brushed my hair out and put it in its usual style. My make-up had to be scrubbed off, leaving sore skin around my eyes. And I hoped that the bags under my eyes would go away by themselves.
I pulled my old clothes off and shoved them in an almost-too-full laundry basket and put my new clothes on. It's amazing how much better a person could look after just that bit, even though I felt terrible still.
There was another knock. "What?" I called. It was Mom this time. "Ten minutes, Sammy." I cringed at the nickname. "Come down for some breakfast." She didn't say anything else. Great. I have to socialize some more.
I ran down the hallways, down the stairs, and into the dining room. My family was all sitting there, even Grandma. Erik wasn't there. "Come on, Sammy. Have some breakfast!" Dad said happily. He waved me over to my regular seat.
"I gotta hurry, Dad. I'm late as it is." I hadn't taken my seat yet, trying to get out of eating breakfast. Mom glanced at a grandfather clock in the corner and let out a slightly too dramatic gasp. "Oh, Sammy. You're right! No wonder Erik already left!" She put one hand slightly over her mouth.
Dad stood up. "I'll drive you, Sammy." He walked out of the room and donned at hat and coat, even though there really wasn't a reason to. A key was hooked around one of his fingers. Come on; we'll take the Camaro." I walked over as he opened the door for me.
The garage door opened and in it sat the red Camaro. It was promised to me once I could drive. I felt bad. Our family has like six cars, and we hardly use them. All of them, anyway.
I sat in the passenger's seat. Dad had begun talking about stocks, and some other stuff I didn't understand. The digital clock read five till eight. I was gonna be late. Why, o why had I accepted their breakfast invitation!
My school came into view and Dad slowed down. I wrenched open the door before the car had fully stopped, and rushed into the school. Dad waved. Like I could wave back right now!
"Miss Manson. So nice of you to join us. Please; take your seat, and pay attention." Of course, Mr Lancer had to announce my tardiness. But I did as I was told, and took my seat in the back.
Immediately, he began droning on about how our century's literature is so severely slipping and how we must stick to the classics if we ever expected to make it anywhere in life.
"...in conclusion, you will all be choosing a book written in or before the twentieth century, read it, and write how—if the time was taken—it could better our lives today. I have a list of approved choices." He held up a list that dropped to the floor. The class groaned in unison.
"Now, now. You all should be thanking me." He smiled like he had done something good.
"Now, all of you, up. Come pick out your book. Find one you want, then tell me. No one will have the same, Mr Fenton." He eyed Danny. I felt bad for him. Danny, I mean. It's not his fault he doesn't like this class. Or this teacher.
Each row got up and chose their book. This took about... ten minutes. Really. Good thing there were only four rows. My row went second. I skimmed through the list; I hadn't even heard of half of these books! Judging by the look on the other peoples' faces, neither did they.
I finally found one: "'The Pit and the Pendulum' and Other Tales," by Edgar Allen Poe. Spooky. I told Mr Lancer my choice and he handed me the book. Behind his desk were stacks and stacks.
"Obviously, Miss Manson, you will have to read all of them," he said. "I know," I answered before I could say anything else to him. Really! I knew that I'd have to read them all! I'm not that dense.
Two more rows. I cracked open my book and read the Table of Contents. The Fall of the House of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum, The Masque of the Red Death, The Tell-Tale Heart, etc., etc.
This book was really long! Each story was about twenty pages long, and there were probably eight or nine stories. So, now I've got intense play practice and a report.
The class bell rang after about ten minutes of reading. Danny was called back again. Poor Danny! I don't know why Mr Lancer hates him. A lot of other students were failing, too.
That's when it happened. I was walking down the hall, with Tucker beside me, since Danny was still being held up. But Tucker was messing with his P.D.A., so he and I weren't communicating. I was passing, same as usual, when my shoulder hit someone else's. At first, they looked a little mad, but then saw my face.
"Hey, good job, Manson!" the person told me. Really. To me. There is no one else with the last name of Manson in the school. I smiled weakly. "What? You don't know?" he asked. "What?" I asked, completely clueless. "You landed the main role in the play!" the guy practically yells at me. Then he joins the crowd again, lost.
Why would he care? It's just a school play to all of them. Yes, it was a huge deal to me, but I'm not them. And he didn't congratulate Tucker at all. Weird.
Only minutes after I entered the auditorium I was called onto the stage. I waited on the stage and saw Danny sneak in. He seemed to come in undetected. Mr Ellis had us all sitting in a circle on the stage, reciting our lines. He wanted to get as much of it read through as we could. Drama practice was only an hour long at this point.
Mr Ellis read through the part at the beginning as the auctioneer, with Danny and Antoinette playing the older versions of their characters. At specific times, they raised their hands.
"'Sold for thirty francs to the Vicomte de Chagny. Thank you, sir. Lot 666, then. A chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera. A mystery never full explained. We are told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster.
"'Our workshops have repaired it and wired parts of it for the new electric light. Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination. Gentlemen—?' And then, the chandelier sweeps up, and everything turns back to 1870."
At this point, no one—except for Erik—seemed to be paying attention. "And then there is just music, but shows all of the people getting ready to put on the opera Hannibal. We open up again with Carlotta singing on stage. Just read the words for now, Paulina," he said. "And when the next song comes up, just go ahead. No real dialogue for now."
She read deadpan, with no emphasizing at all. "This tro-o-o-o-phy from our saviors, from our sa-a-a-a-a-viors. From the enslaving force of R-o-o-o-o-me." She seemed to be counting. Then some extras joined in. "With feasting and dancing and song tonight in celebration. We greet a victorious throng returned to bring salvation. The trumpets of Carthage resound. Hear Romans now and tremble. Hark to their step on the ground. Hear the drums; Hannibal comes."
The person playing Piangi read, "Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp." He stopped, and there was a short pause. Everyone must be skimming, to try to find the song again.
"The trumpeting elephants sound. Hear Roman's now and tremble. Hark to their step on the ground. Hear the drums; Hannibal comes!"
Mr Ellis cut them off. "Everyone up. I want you to actually attempt to put some emphasis into it!"
"But, director, no one knows the songs!" Tucker said. Mr Ellis pondered this. "Hmm, tomorrow will be a long class, but we won't be doing anything. Does anyone have the movie?" I raised my hand, and I saw Erik raise his. "Erik, why not you bring it in? Don't forget! Good bye!"
So, class was over. Danny, Tucker and I met up just outside the auditorium. "Hey, you guys wanna go over to Nasty Burger?" I suggested. Tucker shook his head. "No, I can't. Lancer assigned that book thingy. It's gonna take me forever!" Danny exclaimed.
"What did you pick?" I asked. He took out his book. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. It actually was a pretty thin book. I opened it and the text was so tiny, it took me a second to focus to be able to read it. "And the worst part is that I didn't even pick it! Lancer did."
Tucker held his book out, too. 1984 by George Orwell. "I don't see how this could better our future. It's about a dictator," Tucker said.
"And mine's about pirates. Piracy is illegal!" Danny exasperated. I shook my head. "What a dumb assignment. I doubt that anyone will pass it." With that, all of us went our separate ways.
I arrived home, finally. I kept taking different roads, trying to read and walk at te same time. Not one of my best ideas. For one thing, I couldn't concentrate on the book, and I walked into traffic... let's say more than once. It was as stupid as the time I tried to get dressed in complete darkness.
"Sammy!" Mom yelled. The pet name was growing strangely common, I noticed. Especially since I hate it. "We were worried sick about you! Why didn't you call on your cell phone?" She emphasized "cell phone" a little too much. "Mom, I never take it anywhere. Those things cause cancer."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Everything causes cancer, dear." ((A/N: I must say now that I got that line from a book called "Boy Proof." That's all. Bye!)) I was appalled. I mean, I know that my mom's like that, but to say it front of me is to try to shove meat into my mouth. "Oh, Sammy. You have a visitor. It's Danny. He's in your room."
I ran upstairs, and—after navigating through my huge house—got to my room. And there he was, but, oddly, he was in ghost form, and floating in the air, like he was impatient. "Danny? Something wrong?" I asked.
"Yes, there is something wrong. I saw that ghost. Again! I saw him coming to your house. Keep your eyes out."
"Danny, there is no ghost. I'd know. I've seen enough of them. I'll tell you if I see anything."
"But this one is different. I don't know how. I think that he's kinda like me. A hybrid. Only evil, like Vlad. I think that there's some human in there, too."
I scoffed. "Danny, are you feeling okay? You've been really stressed." I was gonna suggest a vacation, but he was in no position to do that.
So, instead, I said, "Just try to take it ea—" but was cut off, when Danny covered my mouth with his hand. I heard footsteps go by my door, very, very slowly. Then the footsteps sped up again, and the person the footsteps belonged to began humming. Erik.
A bell rang five times. It was dinnertime.
"Listen, Danny, I gotta get to dinner. So... see ya?" I said, stupidly. Danny smiled, then disappeared. He was gone.
I put my bookbag down (I had totally forgotten that I was holding it!) and headed down to dinner.
Ever since Erik came to stay with us, my parents have been obsessing about everything about him.
"You said your last name is Muhlheim?" my dad asked. Erik nodded.
"And you were born and lived in England all your life?" Erik nodded again.
"Where did your last name come from? What's its origin? Do you know?" Dad kept drilling him.
"I'm not sure. My family is the entire European melting pot, so I have no clue... I think it's Persian."
I blinked. I don't think that I had ever heard Erik talk so much, when he wasn't acting,anyway.
There was silence. My parents were so formal, but I never had gotten used to silence. Mom started up again. "I heard that you got the lead in the school play?" Mom asked. Erik and I both nodded. I had gotten the leading role, too, but I didn't know who she was talking to.
Her eyes widened. "You, too, Sammy?" she asked. "Yeah," I mumbled. "What is the play, dear?" she asked me. "It's the Phantom of the Opera," I said. She snickered.
"W—what's so funny?" I asked. "Hmm, opera. You doing opera?" she began to laugh a little more. I could feel my face getting hot. "Why is that funny?" Erik asked. "Obviously, Erik, you don't know our Sammy," Mom said. "Obviously you don't," Erik snapped back. Mom stopped laughing.
"Excuse me?" she asked. She was ticked. "She got the part for a reason. That's all I'm saying." I shot a glance at him. Then at Mom. She was red now. "I'm—sure that she'll do... fine, Erik, but Sammy, she... she doesn't do anything like that."
"Show's how much you know!" I shouted at her. I ran up the stairs. While doing so, I thought, what came over me? I hadn't been too mad at her. But I kept running till I reached my room. But then I stopped.
I leaned over to Erik's door. It was closed, as always. But I walked over to it and twisted the handle. It wasn't locked. I pushed to door open and strolled inside.
Nothing too out of the ordinary. He had brought a lot of his stuff over, so I guessed that it could pass as his room and not just some decorated guest room. Everything was sloppy, though. Papers were strewn all over the place, a desk with stacks of that old-fashioned looking paper, and a candelabra with twisted, stunted, burned-out candles sticking to it. There was a keyboard in one corner of the room, with stacks of song books on top of it and beside it. A T.V. sat on a cabinet, and a "Phantom of the Opera" DVD case sat, open, on top of the T.V.
Oh, yeah, and Erik. He was sitting on his bed, watching. At first, I hadn't even seen him, and he really scared me when I finally noticed him. "What're you doing, Sam?" he asked. "N—n—nothing," I stammered."You're just so secretive; I was curious."
He laughed a laugh that scared me even more. "Curiosity is a major flaw, Sam. Don't let it get to you." With that, he shooed me out just by looking at me. I felt heavy with guilt. "Sam? Don't let what your mother said bother you. You will be extraordinary," he said. I walked out and closed his door.
I walked into my room and turned my T.V. on. My DVD player was still on, so I pushed play. The Phantom of the Opera began up again. This time watching it I paid close attention, trying to figure out the characters. And the songs. I had a lot of songs to learn.
I don't think that I moved for that two and a half hours. I was in tears at the end of it again. Some of the lyrics I already knew, which was good. The credits ended, and I could hear the same movie going on in Erik's room.
Danny appeared again. "Hi, Danny!" I said, wiping the tears from my face. My mascara was waterproof, thank goodness. "Hi, Sam. You okay?" he asked. "Yeah. Yeah."
We just kinda looked at each other for a moment before Danny shook his head. "Sam, come with me." He grabbed my wrist, and I felt a cold jolt shoot through my body and my brain. I was intangible, and flew through the wall with Danny.
"Danny, does this have anything to do with Erik being a ghost?" I asked.
"You'll see," he said in a slight singsong voice. We stopped, again, at Erik's window. I was still getting that cold sensation, so I knew that I was still intangible. Danny and I hung by Erik's window and my eyes grew wide.
I saw Erik; nothing more. "Danny!" I shouted. "What's wrong with you! Ever since Erik showed up, you've been accusing him of being a ghost! I want you to stop it."
Danny looked hurt. I could see it in his green eyes. "Fine. You're right. I'm probably just... crazy." He was speaking so low that I thought he was talking to himself. He took me back to my room and left without saying good-bye.
Okay, this was a bit long, and nothing really happened, but I hope it wasn't a total waste... yeah. Erm, I dunno what's gonna happen next, but stay tuned!
-DaydreamingTurtle-
