Chapter 1 Lost

That strange feeling of moving forward abruptly stopped, and I felt someone's warm fingertips against mine. I yelped in fear- I was about to be discovered!- when I heard a high-pitched, feminine shriek. My eyes shot open; a tiny, insane part of my imagination wildly wondered if the scream was Christine's.

I stared at two complete strangers.

I, shaking, tried to draw myself up and scare the young women away, but noticed how dark it was. Buildings lined the Opera House; Where the hell had they come from! Something big, white, and noisy whipped by the end of the alley, ripping the air with a loud BEEEP! I began to shrink. What was going on? I glared at the women, scared and angry- not a good mix.

The girl closest to me, who had leapt back upon sight, was rather short and plain; Strange, multicolored hair that was both brown, blonde, and red yet neither one by itself. She had fair skin, and blue eyes that made her face a lot prettier.

The other woman was taller with blackish brown hair and wan skin, and gray, excited eyes. Large hoops hung from her ears, and I finally noticed the strange clothing they wore.

I stared unabashed at their mens' clothes. Blondy wore a tight blue shirt cut off at the forearm.

It said in English: Explain to me again why I need a boyfriend?

Even more bizarre, her legs were clad in close-fitting blue pants. They were denim, the cloth of the poor. But she didn't look poor. Why were they so...exposed?

The other girl had a similar pink shirt reading Whatever, and denim pants too, only they were white, not blue, and cut off half way up her thighs! What kind of prostitute was she!

The taller one squeaked and whispered excitedly into the other's ears.

"...The Phantom? Could it be? I mean, look at his clothes! No one has worn clothes like that for like, what, 100 years? Omigod, Roselle, can you believe it? It's Erik, it's Erik, it's Erik!"

I shuddered. "How do you know me!" I demanded, "Are you gypsies? What are you doing at the Paris Opera House?" I spoke against my better judgment. "Who are you?"

They glanced at each other, then the black-haired women squealed again and jumped up and down, causing my intense anxiety to triple.

"Abbey, STOP. You're scaring him!" The short one said, and I finally realized they were speaking English. I repeated my questions in the correct language.

The one called Abbey giggled girlishly, but the one called Rosal- Roseal- Rosalee- I could not pronounce it- shot Abbey a glare and stepped closer to me, not touching me, thankfully, but coming close enough for me to see her sincere eyes.

"Sir, I'm...not sure how you got here...We're not gypsies, and it's not Paris Opera House any more..." She sighed in frustration. "We'll tell you how we know you soon, but I think you better come with us."

I shrank away. "What's going on? If it's not the Opera House, then what is it? Why are you dressed so strange!"

Another shiny black speeding thing whizzed by.

Roselle sighed again. "I'm not sure. Everybody dresses like this now- but the House closed... nearly 100 years ago."

"B-But that's not possible! I live-" I shouted wildly, feeling like a animal backed into a corner.

Roselle continued to stare into my eyes until I calmed a little.

"You are in the year 2006."

I snorted. "I'm not st-"

BEEEEEEEEP!

"That's a car- a moving carriage without horses. We're wearing clothes that all women wear now, and the Paris Opera House is a wreck."

I closed my eyes, trying not to scream with fear.

Abbey whispered. "What are we going to do? D'you think he can get back to his own time?"

Roselle replied in like manner. "Why would he want to? Christine's left him and all that, so it's not like he has anything to go back to."

"Good point. Should we take him to our apartment?"

"Can you think of a better solution?"

"No. Are..." Abbey's face softened slightly as she glanced at her friend. "Will you be able to cope?"

Roselle avoided her eyes, and her voice was filled with pain. "I don't have a choice. We can't just leave him out here, he won't survive for an hour!"

"So...we take him back to our apartment and...teach him about life in 2006?"

"I guess...I don't think we can get Erik back to 1870."

I cleared my throat; this was all so confusing! "Please,...how do you know my name?"

Roselle and Abbey glanced fearfully at each other, then at me. "We're not going to hurt you or turn you in. But I think...that information should wait until you get used to...this new life."

"So...I really am in 2006? And there's no way back?" I said, aghast.

"I don't think so. And you never know- once you get used to it here, you may not want to go back!" Abbey told me, a bright smile on her face.

Roselle beckoned me with a finger. "C'mon. We'll get you to our home and decide what to do next. I'm Roselle, by the way, and this is Abbey."

"I am called Erik...but I guess you knew that," I said uncomfortably, standing up. "It's...strange to meet you, Abbey and Ros-Rosa-" no matter how I tried, I just couldn't tongue the name Roselle. "Rossel...Rosalee."

Roselle and Abbey grinned, then, moving to either side of me, marched me out into this new world.

The instant I stepped out onto the street, I panicked. Shiny...cars...were everywhere, and the road was coated in what was almost cement...with yellow lines painted onto it. I halted and took a deep breath. Feral instincts began to rise within me- the feelings I felt when I was trapped or afraid. I jerked my arm away from Abbey, but Roselle refused to let go. "Erik, why don't you close your eyes."

"NO! No...I have to get out of here..."

"Erik, you HAVE to come with us. See all of this new stuff? We'll help you understand, but you must trust us."

Trust? Trust! I nearly laughed. I have never trusted in my whole life.

I made a worried noise but closed my eyes; I felt sick. I heard the girls talking.

"Should we take a cab?"

"No way. he'd probably puke all over the floor."

"Good point...I guess its not that far from here to the apartment."

"What's our plan of action? Geez, Abbey, this is sooooo bizarre. I've dreamt about the Phantom of the Opera, but never in any of the deep dungeons of my mind did I think we would meet him!" Roselle whispered, giggling.

"I know!"

"But we can't tell anyone he's the Opera Ghost. Number 1 no one would believe us and number 2 if they did they'd cart him off for tests and number 3 a huge mob of Phantom Phans would storm our house and glomp him."

Abbey laughed out loud.

HOW DO THEY KNOW ME! I screamed in silence. That old paranoia crept into my brain.

"Do you swear that you will tell me how you know my name?" I said, feeling faint again. I swayed slightly. This was too much.

"Yes, we SWEAR, but Erik, you really need to stay conscious, please, 'cause I don't think we could drag you."

I nodded, and forced myself to think of something...something...music! Of course.

My mind processed on that for a moment while they continued talking. I was annoyed that they talked as though I wasn't there, but I said nothing.

"First thing we'll need to do is get him some new clothes. He can't walk around in these ones- geez, they are so..." Abbey drifted off.

I opened my eyes and stared down at my clothes. What was wrong with them? Men with clothes like these were rich.

"...old." Roselle finished. "That's a good idea. Then we have to educate him about 2006. I don't think he should go out until he could answer questions about stuff."

"Yeah...and if he has to come back with us-"

"You don't live in France?" I interrupted.

"Nope, we're down home Americans. We're here for the summer."

My mind whirled again, and I suddenly realized we were at a house. "Where am I?" I asked blearily. I sounded stupid and dense, but I couldn't help it.

"At our apartment."

"I'm...I'm not dead, am I?" I mumbled, on the brink of a mental shutdown.

"No, Erik." Roselle said gently. "Come, rest."

She lead me to a small room with a bed. "Go ahead and sleep for a while...you might feel better afterwards."

I raised no objections, fell over the bed, and let my weary mind pulled me into a deep sleep.