Little Matthew held himself close to his sister, and watched as each moment they were stuck here seemed to drive her more and more insane. It wasn't long before she began to speak to herself in hushed whispers, most of which made no sense to Matthew, as they had no structure, and just seemed to be words strung together in whatever order they came.
"Better out in the cold, than in here!" Carmelynn finally exclaimed in her fear.
"Carmelynn, no!" Matthew begged. He grabbed the sleeve of her day dress and tried to keep her from going out in the rain. As he did so, his little flute slipped out of his vest and fell to the floor. It made a slight clunking "ping" as it hit the floor. In fear that it was broken, Matthew quickly clutched it to his chest, and began to look it over.
Carmelynn stared at her little brother in suprise.
"Matthew, where did you get that?" She inquired of him.
He looked down out of shame. His hobby was revealed, and in a rather guiltful way.
"Did you steal it?" Carmelynn prodded.
"No! I wouldn't steal anything!" Matthew begged her mercy, "I found it here in the Opera house..."
There was silence for a moment, as neither Matthew nor Carmelynn knew how to defend their thoughts, or how to speak them.
"I never took it from the Opera house, Carmelynn, I promise! I... I've been coming here to play on it, but I've never taken it! I promise, Carmelynn, I promise!"
"I believe you, Matthew," Carmelynn comforted after a pause.
They sat once more in silence, but the longer they sat, the more frightened they became at every little noise.
"I will play to help you keep your mind off of the ghost, Carmelynn," he said to his sister, really meaning to mask his own fear of the ghost as well.
He raised the little toy of a flute to his mouth, and began to play.
The poor little boy shook from head to toe as he began his song. He was so afraid of the ghost, and had intended to play to keep it off of his mind; but most of all, he was afraid that by playing, he would call the ghost. He had not heard what his brave sister Carmelynn had heard in the auditorium, but he knew it was the ghost, and he was not at all pleased at what it was doing to her.
His mind was not with his song as he played. Matthew thought only about the strange events, and getting home safely before Carmelynn gets any more frightened, but Carmelynn was listening to his song very intently. She wondered how long he had hidden this talent from everyone, for his playing was not at all similar to that of an amateur. He had practiced, and she could tell.
The improvised song went on for some time in silence. No interruptions, no strange happenings, no ghosts. Matthew began to calm, and stopped worrying about everything that could happen, and became more interested in what he was playing. The tune changed, and grew more passionate, and after a few bars, they heard a hushed voice.
"Kyrie eleison..." It sang quietly, and sobbed.
"What was that?" Carmelynn snapped.
Matthew closed his eyes tightly and concentrated on continuing the song, wishing for there to be no ghosts.
The voice continued to sing.
"Christe eleison..." as it continued to sob some more.
"Matthew, did you hear it?" Carmelynn asked, eager to know she wasn't going crazy. Matthew nodded as he played.
"It sounds so sad!" Carmelynn sympathized. Matthew nodded, and lowered his flute to his lap.
"But why, Matthew, why is he so sad?"
"I don't know..." Matthew replied, thinking to himself. "Carmelynn, there's something that isn't right."
"What is it, Matthew?"
"Well, before, in the auditorium... The voice you said you heard was a woman's voice, but this one belonged to a man..."
Carmelynn blinked at her little brother. "But that would mean..."
"Two ghosts..." Matthew moaned, finishing his sister's sentence. He had been making such a fuss over one ghost, and now there were two.
But why hadn't he heard the woman's voice in the auditorium? Both of them heard the man, so why hadn't they both heard the woman? It hadn't been much, but Matthew wanted nothing more than to be rid of voices and ghosts and sudden storms in the afternoon.
Matthew listened to the drops falling on the street outside. Everything was thoroughly drenched, and the rain was finally letting up.
"Carmelynn... Carmelynn!" Matthew had to tug on her sleeve to break her from her thoughts. "Carmelynn, the rain is finally going away!"
"Finally..." She replied, looking back into the vast entryway.
"Carmelynn, let's go home..." Matthew almost had to beg.
"Yes. Yes, let's go home," Carmelynn agreed.
Matthew, the little gentleman that he was brought up to be, removed his coat and handed it to his dear sister to d over herself so as not to become soaked.
Carmelynn, conditioned to take care of Matthew, was about to argue.
"Matthew!--"
"Carmelynn... Take it, I'll be fine," he assured her. And so they left into the falling night. The distant thunder rumbled behind them as the storm continued to wane and pass. The drops of rain pattered on the streets around them and on the roof of the old Opera Populaire; the sound echoing through the cavernous rooms and empty hallways. As the storm died, so did the sound in the old building, and it fell to silence once more.
All had been quiet for a number of years. Matthew and Carmelynn did not return to the old opera house after that day with the unexplainable storm, and they both made a point not to speak of it. They lived this way for many years, trying to forget, but they never could.