Chapter 2: Think of Me
It was the next day and Meg was getting ready to sing for Monsieurs Firmin and Andre. She had never sung in front of anyone other than her father, so she was really nervous. She stroked the cross hanging around her neck on a gold chain and hummed to herself. She always stroked the cross before she danced; her mother said it brought her good luck before a performance, so Meg knew her mother's spirit was guiding her. Suddenly, she had a feeling she was being watched. She cast her eyes upward, but didn't see anything.
"Here she is, Monsieurs. The lovely Meg De Chany." Meg heard voices coming towards her. It was her father, Monsieur Firmin, Monsieur Andre, Madame Giry and the leading soprano for seven seasons, Carlotta Piangi. This is a bigger group than I expected Meg told herself. Carlotta eyed her suspiciously.
"This is zee little girl who will be zinging?" Carlotta asked, her voice heavy of Italian accent.
"Oui, Madame." Meg answered her.
"Whenever you're ready, Little Lottie." Raoul told his daughter. Carlotta cocked her head at the mention of Little Lottie.
"Firmin, this is doing nothing for my nerves!" Andre whispered as he leaned on his cane.
"I know, but she looks just like her mother," Firmin whispered back. Andre rolled his eyes and sighed. Meg knew that was her queue to start singing. She took in a deep breath and sang her heart out.
"Think of me
Think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
Remember me every so often
Promise me you'll try
When you find that once again you long
To take your heart where it can be free. . ." she was suddenly cut off by Carlotta.
"No, no, no this will not do. 'is girl does not have zee talent like me!" Meg bit her lower lip to keep from crying. Raoul tried to comfort Meg, but she shook her head and ran towards her mother's dressing room. She locked the door and looked around the room. Nothing interested her but a giant mirror hanging directly across from the door. Suddenly, Meg heard an angelic voice.
"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless. Yearning for my guidance. . ." a figure appeared in the mirror. The figure wore a long black cape, a white poet's shirt, dark pants and black knee-high boots. A white mask hid the right side of his handsome face. His eyes were brown and gentle-looking. His black hair was tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck.
"Well, well, well. Little Meg De Chany. You look exactly like your mother." The figure told her. Seeing Meg's frightened face, he added "don't you know who I am?" Meg shook her head, but looking at his mask, she suddenly realized who he was.
"You're my Angel of Music." The figure nodded.
"Meg! Open this door!" came her father's voice. Meg looked from the door to the mirror and back again.
"What should I do?" she asked, not to anyone in particular.
"Let me be your light, you're safe. Nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you." The phantom sang. Meg looked at him curiously.
"Margaret Christine De Chany! Open this door at once!" her father's voice came again.
"I'm in trouble. He hasn't called me by my full name in a while." The phantom smiled at her and extended his hand. With a motion of his other hand, the door unlocked itself and Raoul came bursting in. He saw no sign of Meg anywhere.
"Meg. I'm not in the mood for games. Come out!" no matter how many times Raoul called Meg's name, she wouldn't answer.
"Monsieur, there you are!" came Madame Giry's voice. Raoul looked at her, confused.
"Madame Giry, Meg has disappeared!" Raoul told her.
"Oui, Monsieur. It is the work of the Opera Ghost." Giry said, her voice shaking.
"Madame Giry, we must find her quickly before something awful happens!" Raoul said hurriedly. Madame Giry nodded her head and they went to find Meg.
Meg moaned and sat up. Apparently, she was lying on a bed in the shape of a swan or some bird. She had no idea how she got there, although she did remember something about a lake, a boat and singing, but that was all that came to her memory. She swung her legs over the bed and walked around.
"Ah, I'm glad to see you're awake," the phantom said, smiling. He was sitting at his organ, his back towards her, but as she approached, he turned around to face her. Turning back to his organ, Meg began to move closer to him, wondering what his mask was hiding. As she neared him, her curiosity grew more and more intense. Before she knew it, she was right behind the phantom. He was scribbling notes onto a piece of parchment, so he hadn't noticed Meg walk up from behind. Meg's hand reached for his mask, trembling all the while. When she pulled the mask off, the sight was frightening: he had deep purple wounds covering the entire right side of his face. The phantom swung his head around and swore loudly.
"Damn you, you little viper!" he cursed at her. Meg burst into tears at seeing his reaction. The phantom continued to swear and call Meg names. Seeing the mask lying nearby, Meg reached for it with trembling hands. The phantom wretched it from her and put it back on over the wounds.
"How did you. . ." Meg started to ask, but she was cut short when the phantom gave her a nasty stare.
"Come, we must return. Your fool of a father will be missing you," the phantom said nastily. Wiping her eyes dry, she obediently followed the phantom back to the lake, back to a beautiful chestnut horse waiting for them at the lake's shallow end. The phantom helped Meg mount the calm creature, not saying a word to her. Meg rode the horse for a while until the phantom stopped the horse and helped Meg down. They continued to walk in silence and reached an eerie hallway and the opposite end of the mirror that shone into Meg's dressing room. The phantom opened the mirror and led Meg through. Meg looked over her shoulder, but the phantom had disappeared.