Okay so here's the deal: This was writen for my AP lit class. I had to write a story using all my vocab. words. They are underlined, and I don't feel like un-underining them. This is also a one-shot.
For those of you who are phans of my other work entitled "The Future?" I have been grounded from the computer for a while, and I also lost a good portion of my story. I took it as a sign, becauseI wasn't really sure it was very good. I'm rewriting the later chapters so it may be a while before I get up another chapter.
Christine's Phantasy
My head is spinning, Raoul will not shut up, and Erik could show up at any moment. 'Great! Just great! My childhood sweetheart has grown into a garrulous fop, and the guy who's completely obsessed with me is a self-pernicious madman with various pseudonyms. Who calls himself the trapdoor-lover anyway? The name sounds like a serial rapist or something! What have I gotten myself into?' I think disconsolately.
Suddenly I hear the cue for Erik to appear. "Oh, beep!"
Raoul turns to me with an incredulous look upon his face, saying, "What did you just say? You can't say that! There are FCC laws strictly against the use of such words as those. There could be a litigation; you know a law suit."
'Oh joy! fop-boy's trying to impress me.' I think hoping Erik hurries up and follows through with his cue.
As soon as I stop thinking this, I hear Erik's tenor voice pierce the silence that I had not even noticed was there until it was broken. "Insolent boy, this slave of fashion!"
"Hey! I am not!" Raoul objects, interrupting Erik's singing.
"What! you're not supposed to be here! You're supposed to be the sedentary guy on the other side of the door!" Erik states facetiously.
"I would not be inactive! I would be banging on the door even though it would probably be to no avail. I would be..." I tune out Raoul as he babbles on and on. I notice that Erik has undergone a complete metamorphosis in his demeanor to that of equanimity, although not at all innocuous. With all rectitude, at this moment, I am very much favoring Erik with all his sagacity in creating dulcet tunes that appeal more to one's platonic side than anything else.
"Oh, Raoul! must you always talk so much?" I roll my eyes in frustration, "Leave me. I need to corroborate something with Erik for a moment." Fortunately, Raoul leaves with a bow of obeisance.
"Leave it to the progeny of the DeChagny line to talk too much." Erik says after Raoul shuts the door. "Hey! I heard that." drifts the muffled voice of le vicomte through the door.
"At least I staid my hand from killing you!" Erik shouts back like a little boy, instead of the man he is.
Turning to me, Erik takes my hand and says, "Now, my palatable little diva, it is time for you to sing just for me."
"Umm... Erik, how did you get into my room?" A sheepish grin forms on his face. "You've been in here before!"
"I didn't see anything I swear!" Erik counters; unfortunately, it does not help his case any.
"You pervert!" I slap his face on my way out of the room, leaving the infamous Phantom of the Opera behind and ignoring the man who cannot stop talking. I walk calmly out of the opera house and leave never to return.