Wandering Child

Chapter 13- Secrets

I sat in front of a warm cozy fire with a rug wrapped around me. I shivered despite the warmth I now felt coursing through my veins. I could sense him behind me. He was watching my every move. He didn't trust me. I didn't blame him.

I turned slightly and looked at him. He seemed to be staring straight ahead, but I knew better. He was watching me, waiting for me to try something.

"I had no idea that someone was living down here." I said, trying to break the ice. I recalled what Joey had said about not interfering. It was too late for that, so I figured that I might as well try to befriend him.

"Why were you in my lake?" He asked stiffly.

"Because I fell, and I can't swim if my life depended on it. Which, coincidently, it did." I paused, trying to seem nervous and uncomfortable. "I want to thank you for saving me." I said.

He made a growling sound from deep within his throat and turned away. Then I made the mistake of saying something when silence was needed.

"You don't have to feel ashamed, you know. It was a noble thing." I looked at him seriously and he turned his head in my direction slowly.

I watched his face for a sign of a reaction, but it was kind of difficult when the side I was looking at was covered by a mask.

"Who are you?" He asked me.

"My name is Rebecca." I said. "I just turned eighteen, but don't get any ideas."

He turned to face me fully and he gave me a queer look.

"That was a joke." I said. He seemed unmoved. "Okay, so it wasn't a very good joke."

"No, it wasn't." He stated. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I hadn't thought that Erik would be so stubborn to even take part in a simple conversation.

-

Erik looked at her with contempt. She was trying to strike up a conversation, but he didn't want to talk. Why did I let her into my house? He asked himself. He thought her to be the most overly perky thing he'd ever met.

He examined her without seeming to do so. He noticed that her eyes were a misty gray-blue color and that her hair was much too short for an eighteen year-old girl.

Erik remembered how Christine had performed that night. He had wished for her to be the one to sing from the beginning, but those blasted managers were a couple of bumbling idiots.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around herself and stared into the fire. Then she surprised him. She started to sing.

He froze. The words. He had heard those words before. He had thought that it had been just a dream.

"The darkness is all around.

The air is thick;

I can't breath."

The air seemed to thicken around him. He remembered those words from his dream. He remembered feeling lost and alone until he heard those words. He remembered thinking that it had been Christine who had sung those words. He now knew he was wrong.

"The darkness keeps closing in,

I can't seem to find

That special piece of mind

That will break these chains

Of mine.

"Let's light a candle,

A wavering flame.

This is my secret

Way to escape.

Can't seem to find

Another one like me

Can't seem to be

Able to breath."

"Where did you learn that song?" He interrupted.

She stopped singing and turned to him. "I wrote it." She said softly.

-

When I told Erik that I was the one who wrote the song, his shock was evident. He staggered back and looked at me with an emotion that was near to horror.

"What?" I asked, confused. I rubbed my arms. I still felt cold, and I thought I was getting a fever. I was still wearing the same clothes that I had been wearing when I fell into the water. I doubted that the Phantom had any dresses that I would be able to wear.

"Are you sure that you wrote it?" He asked in a voice that was struggling to control itself.

"Of course I'm sure." I said. "I was sixteen when I wrote it. In fact, it was about two weeks before my sixteenth birthday." I turned back to look at the fire. "Why?" I shivered again and sneezed.

"Can you turn up the heat?" I asked. But then I remembered that it wasn't the twenty-first century anymore. It was the year, 1870. Oops, I thought.

However, Erik must have thought that I was talking about the fire, because he bent down and added more wood, sifting the old, half-burnt logs around to make room for fresh ones.

"You never did tell me who you are." I said, trying to sound casual.

"If you don't already know, then it's better you don't find out." He said, and he left the room.

When he came back, he was carrying a pillow and a blanket. He set them out on the couch.

"You can stay here for tonight." He said. "But tomorrow you must return home." He paused before adding, "And you can't tell anyone about me."

"I won't" I said. "And thank you for letting me stay here."

Erik nodded and said, "I bid you bon soir, Mademoiselle." Then he left the room, leaving me alone.

I stood up and stretched my legs. My dress and hair were dry, but I felt like I really needed a shower. I climbed under the covers of the blanket and buried my face in the feather pillow. It was soft and I felt as though my face was sinking in it.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I remembered about the time machine. I sat up and felt around my waist for it. It was still there. I unbuckled it and looked at the numbers. I recalled the combination to make it small, and punched it in. The machine shrunk to the size of a bracelet and I was able to slip it around my wrist without any trouble.

I then snuggled back down under the covers and slowly drifted off to sleep. I dreamt of home, and what my mother might have been doing. Oddly enough, I dreamed that my mother was talking with AM1 and AM2. As I collapsed completely into slumber, I saw Joey and AM4 in the tunnel. I heard AM4 say something, but I was fast asleep before I had a chance to process it.

-

Erik watched Rebecca climb under the covers of the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to go straight to sleep.

He was about to go to bed himself, when he saw her sit up. She removed the ribbon from around her waist, and he realized that it wasn't a ribbon. It was a belt. Erik caught a glimpse of some sort of metal as she tilted the belt, and touched it in three different spots. Then, before his eyes, the belt shrunk to the size of a bracelet, and Rebecca slipped it around her wrist. Then she lay back down under the blanket.

Erik waited until he could hear her breathing even out, and he knew she was asleep. He crept forward until he stood in front of the couch. He bent down and looked at her. Her face was so peaceful and innocent. But such things couldn't fool him. He knew that things weren't always what they appeared to be.

Erik pulled back the blanket just enough so he could get a better look at the belt/bracelet. It was obviously made of metal, but most of it was covered with a white fabric. Erik gently slipped the bracelet off of her wrist and examined it. It had a bunch of buttons on one part. The buttons were numbered from one to nine.

Erik would have liked to look at it longer, but he didn't want to risk waking her. So he slipped the bracelet/belt back around Rebecca's wrist, and he left the room.

Erik knew her name, but that was really all he knew. He would have to ask her some more questions before she left the next morning. Erik climbed into bed, but couldn't sleep. So, instead, he decided to do a little composing. He went to his piano and pulled out some pieces of paper. They already had some notes scrawled on them, but the score wasn't finished.

Erik played a few notes, mindful that Rebecca was sleeping in the next room. But, try as he might, he couldn't get the song that Rebecca had been singing out of his head. Erik was always one to finish one masterpiece before starting on another, but he felt such a sense of urgency attached to this song, that he felt he had to write the music for it.

Erik grabbed several new pieces of paper and played a few notes. He scrawled something on the page and played another few. The entire night went on like that for him. When morning came, he was still writing. His movements were almost frantic. He didn't even recall the incident with the girl.

A/N: This seems to get more and more interesting with every chapter! if you're surprised that I said that, it's because I don't plan my chapters ahead of time. I just scribble whatever comes to mind when I'm writing. Review, please! And here's the translation:

1) Good night.