A/N: Happy New Years' everyone! I hope your holidays were good and that this year would be good too. This won't affect the story but the person teaching Emmy is Erik. But how? And why? Well… that's part of the mystery that will be solved soon. Thanks to my beta Halley for doing such a great job and thank you guys for reading this!

Confessions II

My lessons didn't start until the day after school was out. Upon meeting the man or spirit of my dreams, I wanted to learn right then and there. But patience was a virtue that he wanted me to learn and to take into consideration.

I was lucky enough I lived near the school for me to walk there without drawing any attention or suspicions. I was afraid that this wouldn't work since the building was going to be locked, yet the door leading to the corridor of the auditorium was always unlock for me. I suppose that he was a living person to do such a feat, but then again, weren't ghosts known to tinker with objects?

He proved to be a strict teacher and a brutal critic, but I was completely prepared for his criticism. I knew what he was like to Christine so I knew there wouldn't be any special treatment for me. His compliments and praising were seldom, but when he did, I held them dearly to my heart and used them to help me to strive higher. The only way to please him was to give him absolute perfection. And when I did occasionally make mistakes, his reprimand was swift and severe that I often wait to get home to cry.

I never was allowed to address him as Erik. Silence would be my punishment if my tongue accidentally slipped. I had to call him Master or Maestro. Angel was out of the question, which I figured because of Christine. And I was never allowed to bring the soprano up. One time I did for conversation and his scolding had struck me to the very core. I never realized how horribly deadly he could sound if one brings up something he doesn't want to speak of. I guess I should have known better, but like Pandora and Christine, curiosity got the better of me. Though I am smart enough not to repeat the same mistake again. So the short-lived diva was never brought up.

I harbored a fear that if I failed him in some way that he would leave. Disappear into thin air, never to hear his heavenly voice again. It would have been for the best if that were the case, but at the time I couldn't let him go. Like a drug addict, I couldn't get enough of his teachings that I would wind up spending time at school longer than I should have. Of course that didn't go unnoticed by my parents so I would tell them I was at Maggie's and lost track of time. They believed me… for a while.

But what could I say for my behavior? I hadn't lived until I had my dose of my Maestro. Right then, my erratic passions should have been put to a stop on my own. Yet, there was no stopping. Even if I wanted to, the attempt would have been pointless, for I would return to him. And I know he knew that.

Even though the summer was short, I did improved a great deal. Within the first several weeks of my ghostly teacher, I saw the change in my voice and rejoiced. I was finally living my dream.

But that still meant I couldn't share my newfound gift. I was angered by it, even though I agreed from the get-go that I couldn't sing just yet. I was too eager to get back at Sarah that I almost forgot my Maestro's rules.

We met only in the auditorium, yes, but his presence never escaped me. Without his authoritative eye, I knew spiritually he was there outside the school. It was those nerve-ending chills that kept me in check before I committed the ultimate sin—not singing for him. I can't even bear to think what would happen if he ever found out I betrayed him. I'm certain the consequences would be… permanently altered.

Oh yes, I feared him. But not in a way a child would, say, fear a monster or teen with Freddy Krueger. He was my superior in many ways and intimidating, though I had yet to actually see him. He was a powerful force, not to be reckoning with unless you had a death warrant. Without physically seeing him, I could feel the waves of virile dominance. It was strange for me to admit that I would feel this way about him, being a phan my whole life. I imagined that the two of us would be friends with me showing every ounce of kindness in the world he was denied. It didn't work that way. Too bad.

Towards the end of the summer, my friendship with Maggie was beginning to strain. For the most part, we haven't hung out the whole time. She would call and I would return the calls with some excuse as to why I couldn't go to the movies or the mall or even for lunch. I felt bad. I felt bad about ditching her and lying to her. But these negative feelings would wash away in the company of my Maestro. He had a way of making me forget my sorrows and my life. I was his puppet and I went along as he moved the strings.

I was blind, so blind, that I didn't realize it until it was too late. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Now, he never revealed himself to me throughout the summer. And I dare not mention or even ask him. Since he could be short-temper on certain things, this request would surely drive him away. But that didn't mean I couldn't try to look for myself.

Our lessons would be with me on the stage, a single light shining on me, as my Maestro would be hidden somewhere, instructing me. I would often peer into the bottomless darkness for some outline or a mask glowing. I never saw any of these, but I was certain when the time was right, he would show himself to me. Perhaps when I succeeded… or when I paid my debt.

That thought crossed my mind a few times. I didn't know what he meant, but I assumed I must sing something of his. It made sense. Let this world know the genius of that which is my Maestro. What a sweet return that would be for him!

And my voice… Oh my voice will be envious by the most famous of singers! And it belongs to him. He made me this way and I promised myself that I would sing only for him and him alone. It was the only thing I could do to show my humility to this Angel of Music.

As wonderful as I felt, my goodwill was dashed when two more gruesome incidents occurred.

Remember Shirley West? Now, remember Halley Danell and Jaclyn Wagner.

Two sweet natured college girls, vanished into thin air, a couple of months separated, and then turned up dead. Cause—cardiac arrest.

Neither girl was connected in anyway, except they were brunettes and were Voice majors. Both attended different schools and lived in different cities, but had met the same fate. Coincidence?

The police dug into investigations, even pulled up Shirley West's, for any hints that could help them solve these deaths. The only similarity they found was that Danell spoke to her parents about a secret admirer that was leaving strange gifts and sentiment notes, which she thought tried to be sentimental. She never went into great lengths to tell more about this "admirer" and a couple times complained about a lack of sleep due to some disturbing nightmares. Danell was the sort of person who loved horror films and in her spare time wrote short stories in the genre. Her first love was singing (she was a mezzo-soprano), but she hoped to become an author one day.

Wagner, however, was an alto with long, curly dark locks. She didn't have many acquaintances and rarely spoke to her family. Any chances of looking for anything on her were zip. Practically, she was a living ghost. Hardly anyone knew much about her, except she was quiet, which many thought she was a mute. At least, that was, until they heard her sing.

I couldn't explain why these instances bothered me. But they did. They were remarkably unusual and it seemed there was never going to be an answer to the questions the friends, families, and police would have. They would have to be passed off as the poor girls who died at such a young age.

Don't even ask about Thomas Myers. According to the news, he still was missing.

But as the new school year was approaching, I had my last lesson with my Maestro the day before. He wished me luck in my classes and told me we would continue our lessons in a month's time. They would be after school, of course, and he wanted to give me some rest.

"You came so far already," he had said. "And at first, I thought you wouldn't be able to handle my demands. Yet, you have proven yourself, Miss Sawyer. But there's still much more for you to learn. Your hardest lessons are coming soon and I'll put you through the real test to see if you have what it takes to be a singer. Perhaps, one day, even a diva. I congratulate you, Amelia."

There was true sincerity and pride in his voice that I made myself think, he must be in love with me.

TBC…