Helena leapt from Bane's back, and stroked his head.
"Good boy." She whispered.
Bane licked her hand.
Helena led her wolf, down the long pathway to her home, a large house on many acres of lush green land. Though the morning was on the rise the sky seemed to circle darkly above, as if nothing could make the sun come out.
She ran towards the entrance, Bane ran to the bit of forest that was just off the garden; where he usually stayed, to keep out of her nanny's view.
Helena could feel her heart pounding again.
"Helena!" her nanny, Agnes, ran towards her.
"Agnes." Helena hugged her tightly.
"Where have you been child?" Agnes wrapped a shawl around Helena's shaking shoulders.
"I was…rushing home, and someone met me in the ally…I thought I was going to die."
Agnes' face was red. "Oh, my dear, are you alright?" Helena nodded.
"Bane came." Agnes shook her head.
"Where is father?" Agnes smiled at Helena.
"He left right before you came, he didn't want to be late…" Helena's face went white.
"He left without saying goodbye?" Agnes walked to where Helena was sitting.
"Lena dear…"
"He should have said goodbye…"
Her father was a much respected gentlemen, and always had somewhere to be.
About a year ago, the trips grew longer, and longer…after her mother….passed away.
Christine Daae a beautiful opera singer, who was involved in one of the largest scandals…the phantom of the opera...as most people called him, often visited Christine when she was young, it was said he was her teacher, and that he loved her.
Christine never talked about him much. Though on many occasions, Helena would walk into the attic of the mansion, where her mother spent most of her time, and would find her talking to someone. Within seconds the shadowy figure was gone.
Raoul de Chagny married Christine, not long after the events of the Opera Ghost took place. 1 year later, Christine was pregnant…with a girl, Helena.
"Father…" Helena looked up at Agnes, "Did you ever hear, from mother or father about the Opera ghost?" Agnes shook her head. "No, I am not going to delve into that ridiculous tale…"
"But then, where do all the stories come from?" Helena asked.
"Rumors, not stories…" Agnes, spooned some sugar into the dough she was making, for the cinnamon buns in the morning.
"It's the same thing." Helena rested her head on the palms of her hands. "I just wish I knew more."
"What would be the good of that?" Agnes handed her a moist cloth, "Clean off your face dear."
"I don't know, I just get the feeling…" Agnes set the dough aside with a sigh. "Helena, no more of this absurdity, now go and wake Geoff to feed the animals, before breakfast."
It was about 5 am, Helena walked out of the house, followed by Geoff.
The sky was so dark. "Mother…" Helena looked up at the sky, it reminded her, of the grey dress that her mother was buried in…this day was much like the day of her funeral…