"It's the ghost, Momma! The ghost was playing the piano!"
"Ghost? Piano? Dear Matthew, where have you been going that's gotten you so riled?" His mother questioned.
In his fear, he told her about where he had been going.
"In the old Opera House, Momma! I... I found something there, and I was playing in one of the rooms. And the piano-- the piano began to play on it's own, Momma! It scared me!" Matthew sobbed his explaination into his mother's bosom, while as he spoke, her face grew pale. She had heard the stories of the Phantom of the Opera, but barely anyone spoke of them anymore. It had, in their time, almost become an old wive's tale that mothers used to keep their children out of dark alleyways and out of trouble.
"Little Matthew, please do not visit the Opera house again," she almost begged the young boy. Secretly she feared for his soul, but did not want to scare him any more than he already was.
"I won't Momma, I won't..." He lied. He knew he would go back, as much as he wished he didn't have to. He had grown rather attached to that child's toy of a flute, and would rather not leave it behind if he could help it.
Young Matthew found himself too afraid of the entrancing building to enter it for nearly a week, but the thought of the little flute he had found remained strong at the edge of his mind. As much as he would have liked to have gone in alone to obtain the item himself, he could not bring himself to do it. In all of his shame and fear, he asked one of his dearest older sisters; Carmelynn, to take him to the old Opera house again.
When the skies were grey and gloomy, and the rain poured down upon the roads of Paris, Carmelynn was often the one who brought young Matthew to the old Opera House. She, herself, loved the place, and often found it a pity that it was no longer used. She was the sort that dreamed of what no longer is, and wished it still were, and so found no shame or fear in bringing her dear brother Matthew along for the pure joy of it. Her joy of the stories she had heard of the old Opera Populaire shadowed any doubt in her brother when he asked her to take him there on a clear, sunny day.
Upon arriving, young Matthew grabbed his sister's hand, and led her rather vigorously to the abandoned room in which he would play. Opening the door slowly, he clutched her hand fearfully, hoping that the piano would not begin to play again, and when it didn't, he broke away from her and rushed in to clutch his little flute.
His sister had not ever been inside this room, as when Matthew and herself were last here, she was too busy examining a rather intriguing pattern in the fading wallpaper to have gone in and explored as Matthew had. She opened the door wider to let in more light, and gazed into the room with awe. The number of decorative metal touches that stood in the corners and hung on the walls that were blanketed by a rather thick layer of dust caught her eye. Matthew had never thought twice about them. Carmelynn's gaze fell on the piano, and she began to walk over to it.
Matthew shot a quick glance to his sister, and then to the piano, and in a fit of fearful excitement, he called out to her in a warning that almost sounded like a raged threat.
"Don't touch the piano!"
Carmelynn broke from her awe, and stared at her little brother in suprise. He had never said a word that was bent in anger towards anyone! He was always an innocent, good-hearted little gentleman.
"Matthew..."
"Don't touch it," he warned once more, a bit softer this time.
"Alright..." She replied akwardly, and together they left the room.
Matthew tried to hide his flute, in hopes that he wouldn't have to tell her about his hobby if he didn't have to. It wasn't that he was afraid she'd be embarassed of him, he just didn't want her to tell everyone about it. Soon enough they would be home, and he could hide it away, safe and sound.
But when they reached the grand doors leading to the outside, they found that it had unpredictably began to pour.
"Great, and I didn't bring my coat..." Carmelynn moaned.
"... Are we stuck here?" Matthew asked his sister, looking up to her, a little bit of fear in his eyes.
"At least until it lightens up. Mother would not appreciate me giving you a cold, dear little Matthew," she offered, as she ushered him away from the doorways. "Come now, out of the cold..."
They sat on the great large stairway in the grand entryway of the Opera house as both of them stared idly at the dusty golden statues, most of them covered heavily with cobwebs that swayed in the ever so slight breeze.
"Carmelynn?"
"Yes, Matthew?"
"I'm bored..."
She stared at her little brother, and couldn't help but smile. She adored the little man, and all his politeness.
"Well, let's take a walk," she offered.
"Where are we going?" Matthew hopped to his feet in excitement.
"Shhh! It's a suprise!" Carmelynn told him as she took his hand and led him deeper into the Opera House. With no second thoughts, he eagerly followed.
The young boy's sister, Carmelynn, led him up the grand staircase, and through a few hallways, but it was not long until they had entered the grand theater room where all of the Opera Populaire's performances were put on. She had taken him here before. Matthew took a front-row seat as his sister took the stage. His feet hardly touched the floor, and he swung them back and forth eagerly.
Carmelynn spun around a few times and posed. "Ta-daa!" She laughed, "What do you think, little Matt?"
They used to play this game all the time! Carmelynn would pretend that she was a performer, and Matthew would be the excited audience member who gave her endless good critiques. He laughed and clapped his hands.
"'Marvelous! Splendid!' How was that, Carmelynn?"
"Perfect, little Matt!"
Carmelynn continued the charade, and even sang a few notes of their favorite songs while on the stage. Their voices and laughter echoed and resounded through the vast room, and Matthew's praises to his sister grew more extravagant and excited as she went on. Their game was cut short, however, when Carmelynn suddenly stopped and looked around.
"... Carmelynn...?" Matthew questioned, "Carmelynn, why did you stop?"
She looked around her, a little bit spooked. "It's nothing, Matthew, just the rain," she lied. But she continued, beginning a little dance number that she had made up on her own time, but before Matthew could begin his delightful praise once again, she dropped back down to her heels and bent her knees as if she were suddenly going to break out into a run.
"Carmelynn...?" Matthew asked, becoming a little bit frightened.
"What was that?" Carmelynn said, spooked.
"What was what, Carmelynn?" Matthew asked, concerned. He hopped out of his seat and walked up to the edge of the stage to be closer to his sister.
"You didn't hear it? It was a voice, someone was singing! A woman's voice, I heard it, but it was not my own!" Carmelynn padded over to the edge of the stage and knelt down by Matthew, who craved her presence and strength.
"Carmelynn, this isn't the time for games..." Matthew said to her. He spoke, trying to sound unafraid, but it came out shaky, and showed the true fear he was beginning to feel.
Carmelynn looked young Matthew in the eyes just as a large rumble of thunder made its way through the long empty corridors of the old Opera house.
"Yes, yes..." She agreed, shakily. "Matthew, we must go," she stated, hopping down from the stage, and taking him by the hand once more.
"Carmelynn!" Matthew called out as she led him away.
She led him out of the auditorium, through the hallways, into the grand entryway, and down the steps to the great doorways to the outside.
"Still pouring," she stated, pale and shaking.
"Carmelynn!" Matthew called out, frightened. He looked up at her, ready to cry, and she looked down at him in horror. "Carmelynn... I don't wanna stay here anymore..."
She nodded as if still half in a daze, and hugged him to her. "Neither do I, Matthew, neither do I..."
They stared into the heavy rain that happened upon the afternoon, and wondered what to do next.