Disclaimer: Please see chapter 4.

Chapter 5: Purge My Thoughts

"Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before." – Phantom of the Opera Musical

I woke up slowly, the darkness receding. Before I could actually see anything, I could hear. The first sounds to great me where a chair creak and footsteps walking away. I wondered who they belonged to and, more importantly, where I was. For, as you may recall, I had no memory of Erik taking me home or caring for me. All I remembered where the men who cornered me.

I sat up with such force that I gave myself a headache. I had to get out of there. It never occurred to me that I wasn't in the lair of those men. I stepped out of bed and immediately collapsed. We all know one must never try walking right after being asleep for a week: your limps just can't handle it. I found that out the hard way. I sat there for a few seconds, leaning against the bed and breathing heavily. I must get up and leave. I gathered my energies for another attempt. I was interrupted by a woman in her late fifties bustling into the room.

"You're awake! Thank the good Lord. You gave us quite a scare. We thought you'd remain asleep forever. Master just informed me of you awaking, though." That's when she noticed that I was on the floor. "Why, child, you should never have gotten out of bed. Come. Come. Back in you go. The doctor will be along shortly." She gave me her hand and helped me back into bed.

I must admit, I didn't know what to really say or do. Who was this woman? Was she a nurse? Master? Who was he? My mind was slowly going dark again. I refused to let this happen. At least, not until I had gotten some answers.

"Who are you? Where am I? How long have I been out?" I demanded. The woman gave me an indulgent look.

"Poor child. You've obviously had quite a scare. My name is Louise and I'm the maid, housekeeper, and cook all rolled into one. You are at the house of the Master. Now, don't look at me like that. I don't know his proper name. It's just Master to me. Maybe he'll tell you his name. One never knows with him. He can be eccentric in his own way." She walked to a small table position in the corner while talking and poured me a glass of water. "Here you go, dear. Drink this. You'll feel better. And know you have nothing to fear while you are here." She walked out the door and shut it. My last question remained unanswered.

I sat there not quite sure what had happened or what was going to happen. I drank the drink she gave me. It was water, but I had a sneaking suspicion that there was some sort of medicine in it. A metallic taste was left in my mouth. I did not like it. I've never liked medicine. Still don't.

Even though I knew I'd collapse again, I decided to try standing up. Before I could, though, the doctor walked in. He looked at me and without introducing himself, began to examine me. It was rather uncomfortable. He made me lie down while he looked at my eyes and checked out the stitches on my head. Making some rather pleased sounds, he stepped back and whispered to Louise who had walked into the room. Finally, he turned and addressed me.

"You are doing much better, mademoiselle. I think one more week of bed rest and you can get up and move about. Don't over exert yourself, though. I don't want to come back here for anything save to take those stitches out. Good day." He walked out. I was more confused than ever.

"Louise!" I cried out before she left. "What's happening to me? Why am I here? I want to go home!" Tears had welled up in my eyes. Of all my experiences in Paris, this was perhaps one of the worst. I was far from home with no idea how to get back to my time. I was a lost, lonely child.

"Dear child, I don't know what's happening to you. You are here and that's all that matters. I will take care of you and you have nothing to worry about. And if you want to go home, why did you ever leave it in the first place?" She looked at me curiously. I hadn't left home on purpose. Cruel fate had taken me away. But, I couldn't explain this. I pinched myself. To my vast disappointment, I didn't wake up in bed at my own house. I was still sitting in some stranger's bed with Louise hovering over me.

"I'm tired." I mumbled.

"Of course you are. You've had a hard week. But, bless me, here I am talking and I don't even know your name!" She looked at me expectantly.

"Elizabeth. My name is Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth. What a pretty name. Well, Elizabeth, rest and I will be in later with some supper. And don't try that trick again of getting out of bed. You must rest. In one week you will be fully recovered. Or so the good doctor says." She smiled and left me to my solitude.

It was then that I realized that this was no dream. I was in Paris of 1873 with no way of getting home. There was no 2006. It was in the future; a future I wasn't part of any longer. What was I to do? A line from the Phantom of the Opera musical popped into my mind: "Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before." That was what I must do. Purge my mind of the future. Try not to think of it and live my life to the fullest here. I could do it. I knew I could.

None of you can imagine the agony of that moment. To know you will never see family or friends again is a painful place to be. I don't know what I would have done if I had known fate would be kinder than that, but for all it's worth, I'm glad I didn't know. I might not have enjoyed the moments that came my way. Or have fallen in love and enjoyed my time with Erik. All of which were very important to me and still are, though they have long passed away.

A week went by at a snail's pace. I slowly got used to things as they came my way. I found out from Louise that I had been unconscious for a little under a week. That was a shock. You would think that after such a long sleep, I would feel well rested. But, that wasn't the case. So, I adjusted to waking up again. Among the many other things I adjusted to during that first week was not having a shower every day (my worst nightmare) and having to use candles or gas lights. No electricity as of yet. I found that my "purging of thoughts" was going to be slightly harder than at first suspected. But, I managed.

As the doctor ordered, I was bedridden that whole week. And I never saw that master of the house, though Louise referred often to him. At night, I would sometimes hear the most haunting music being played from upstairs. I looked forward to those nights. The music, in some weird way, comforted my soul and made my lose of home more bearable. I was missing my family and friends terribly at the time. I also figured the music was played by the master of the house. It was my only connection to him.

I asked Louise at the end of my resting week why I never saw him. I wanted to thank him for everything he had done. Not only had he rescued me, but he had given me lodging and provided money for new clothing. Louise told me he would show himself when he was ready. Don't rush him, she said. I didn't take that too much to heart and later we both suffered for it. But that was later. Much later.

So, I found myself at the end of the week of rest. The doctor came back and took out my stitches. Louise was quick to inform me that the Master had given me the spare bedroom as my own. His kind generosity, she said. My first day out of bed, I got used to just walking around and not falling over. You would have laughed if you had seen me.

By the second day, I was moving like normal. And Louise immediately employed me. I scrubbed walls and wood floors and washed dishes. I found it quite fun, though I would have given anything for a good dishwasher. There was one thing I was never allowed to do: go upstairs. Anytime I approached the stair case, Louise was there ordering me to go do something. She never let me out of her sight which was a wise decision on her part.

Three days into my second week of living in 1873, Louise took me shopping for clothes. It was the first time I'd been outside since that first fateful evening. I was quite excited. Paris was beautiful. I loved every sight of it. Cafés lined some of the streets and there were shops and restaurants. It was amazing. I ended up buying three gowns: a working one, one for just hanging around, and one for going out into public. I liked them all rather well. I could tell Louise had fun picking them out with me. She must not get to do this often. I thought. When I asked her about it, she just smiled.

"My husband died a few years after we got married. I never had children, so I missed out on this." I offered my condolences. She waved them away.

"Nothing for you to worry about, my dear. I'm happy where I am. Master is good to me and I have everything I could ever want."

"How long have you been working for him?" I inquired, while slipping on a rose red dress designed for parties. I wanted to learn anything I could about the mysterious master of the house.

"Oh, about a year. Rather mysterious he is. But, I don't mind. As long as he pays me my salary and gives me a place to sleep, I'm fine." Our conversation was then interrupted when I found the newest item on my getting used to list: corsets. Ugh.