Chapter 9:The Living Drama.
Movements were quick and random as Meg was hastily ushered out of the Phantom's underground world. He took her back to the world above through, yet another, unexplored passage. He had fixed the rose blanket back around her shoulders tightly and persuaded her to follow him deeper into his home. From the halls of the incredibly spacious home she was led away and soon the richness of the home faded to the dusty darkness of the hidden tunnels of the theatre. All of the paths that he led her down were well travelled but poorly lit, he carried with him an oil lamp and moved quickly ahead of her. Her feet echoed off the hard floor and solid stones walls. The passages always seemed to twist an turn in all kinds of different directions, and although they came to very few stair cases, they did travel upward. Meg was feeling dizzy and lost within the bowels of the theatre, not really knowing in which direction they were travelling or where they would end up. Any other person would have begun to feel the fatigue in their legs as they climbed up through the darkness but not this young woman. Her ballet training made this feel like nothing at all and she kept up with the Phantom as he went. He seemed do mysterious as he went on through the darkness. Strong, well dressed and almost handsome. It was an incredibly strange feeling to have about a man who brought so much fear to so many people but Meg felt captivated by his presence.
Erik never turned to look at her as he walked on. He could hear her behind him but she remained silent as well. He knew that she would keep up and didn't worry about her falling behind. The fear that ran through normal people about dark places would not allow her to fall to far from the light of the lamp. Up they climbed, through unseen levels of the theatre until they arrived and emerged into Box Five. The theatre around them was dark and silent. The stage was visible and empty. The sets were gone and the lights had all been turned out. Even the light from the lamp didn't fill the space but only cast a faint glow over the edge of the box. It was here that they finally stopped and even though Meg had followed his every move, she was lost at how they came to stand in Box Five. Had she come back to this space she would have never been able to find the entrance or exit that the Phantom used to gain access to the box. Not in the light or the darkness.
In the lush, red velvet, seat of the box a small white envelope lay. There were no markings on it but it was clear that it has been filled with something. It lay thick and bright against the red of the seat. Erik moved quickly around the box, remaining out of the sigh of the theatre below, and reach out and took it. His movements seemed familiar only to him and though the room was completely empty his habits prevailed no one would ever see him come and go, not even the darkness itself As quickly as he had moved he stuffed the envelope into an inner pocket of his clothing. He then turned his attention back to Meg, "you mustn't come looking for me until the opera is delivered. I don't have time to deal with you or your mother until I am finished. Do you understand?" he asked looking strong and frightening again. Meg hadn't noticed him do it but the white mask was back on his face and his eyes were harsh, burning her from within as he looked at her.
"I do," Meg said as she stepped way from him.
"You need not be afraid of me," he said as his gaze softened, but only slightly, "but you must obey," he added and disappeared again.
Meg gasped for breath as she fell into the chair of the box. Her heart pounded and she felt as though the air had been cut off to her. Fear had taken hold of her entire body as the darkness around her became absolute. She knew not to be afraid of him, he was only a man after all and yet it was so hard not to be. His countenance had changed so drastically and almost dangerously from the previous night that she began to doubt that any of it had happened at all. She was also very confused at the amount of time that she had been with him. Had it been only a night or has it been much longer? She just didn't know. Another fear and the memories of another time filled her mind. Had all of this happened before, to Christine. Was something wrong happening all around her? Was the man really as magic as people believe him to be? She was beginning to believe it herself. It was the most frightening thing of all, that a man like that could take hold of the one thing that is yours and yours alone, yourself, your freedom of choice and mix it with whatever fantastic images or fears he could muster. Meg was dizzy and unsure of everything at that moment. Quickly she stood and fled the box she had been left in. Up she climbed in the theatre, running as fast as she could. The theatre suddenly felt like it was staring at her, judging her. Her heart beet faster, she could feel it in her chest. Her limbs felt heavy, like something was pulling her back. The blanket that had been wrapped around her even felt cold and frightening but she couldn't let go of it. She pushed herself onward, as fast as she could run, always up toward the top. Finally she reached the roof and flung herself out onto it. Darkness had once again covered the land above. She sank to her knees, covered her face with her hands and sobbed, "why must the darkness plaque me," she cried.
The cold night air rushed in around her. She shivered more violently now, feeling the chill right down to her soul. The brilliant stars stared at her from higher above then she could reach, like hundreds of thousands of eyes judging her every move. The moon was bright, and big, and menacing in its audience of stars.
The rain clouds had moved on and the roof of the theatre was dry from a brilliant day of sun and warm weather. Meg had missed it while she slept in the house of the Phantom of the Opera. Less time than she had been imagining had passed but her mind was playing trick on her.
She sat on the roof, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and sobbed until she had reached the point where no more tears could drench her face. She sat silently, then, and found her composure. Everything that had happened, must have happened, she still had the blanket to prove it. However frightening it had been, she realised that it was now over. The stars in the sky and the moon in its orbit began to soften with every moment Meg spent staring up at them. Everything began to feel, somewhat, dreamlike. She stood slowly, feeling the stiffness and the aches of her body and turned back toward the door. Stepping through the door she returned to her world, the world of the theatre and the safe place that she had always known.
Sleep didn't come to Meg that night. Instead she found that she only wanted to dance. The ballerina's practice hall had lost its dancers hours ago and Meg was pleased to see it empty. This room was normally loud and colourful, dizzying even, but now it was quiet and flooded with the silver light of the moon, through the large windows. Her emotions lead her in her dancing that night. A silent music, only Meg had ever heard, lead her on from the safety of her own imagination. It was a dark music, a morose sounding music and she danced on until her feet ached and her toes bleed inside her dancing shoes. She didn't feel the pain as much as she began to feel herself fading away into sleep. She stopped and silently wondered off to bed.
Mornings had come and gone, dances were danced and the young ballerina's kept up to their usual flirtations routines. Mornings turned to afternoons and afternoons to nights and everything happened like clock work. As normal as anything and as routine as ever anything had been. Andre and Firmin had even returned to their routines and had nearly forgotten the strange events that had once taken hold of their entire beings. The time moved slowly onward within the theatre.
Madame Giry had not asked any questions after her daughter had returned and simply went on with her duties of mothering and teaching the dancers of the company. Meg hadn't tried to speak with her mother about anything that had passed between her and the Phantom, because the truth of the whole situation was, she wasn't sure of what had happened any more. She knew that something had happened but couldn't say what was real or what her mind had made up in its state of fear. Her mind had begun to play tricks on her during the day and her dreams at night seemed so real, as if she were really living then, that even when she thought she was awake she wasn't completely sure that she was.
In truth, Meg was afraid of what she had been feeling and simply spent her days in the practice hall, oblivious to anything that happened around her. She had once taken on a senior roll in the troop, helping her mother along with the younger girls and teaching in her mother absence. Only now she danced alone and in silence. Never really aware of when the younger ballerina's had stopped to stare at the enchanting dance that only Meg seemed to know.
It was true that something had been affecting Meg, but didn't affect anyone else and it terrified her. She watched as everyone continued on in their routines as the days passed, and yet she wasn't herself. She felt like she was alone in an ocean of emotions that no one could understand, and though she was afraid to tell anyone about anything, her body spoke volumes about her condition. Her movements were light, dreamy and precise, almost as if she was always in the dance. When she walked through the halls, or if she was actually in practice, her body moved as if it were always carried by some music. Her eyes, on the other hand, were sad and blank. The colour had faded from them to almost a grey and her skin had begun to match. Pail as marble and cold to the touch she was always chilled through to her core. When she wasn't dancing she remained wrapped in a rose blanket that no one recognised.
The young ballerina's didn't take offence to Meg's mood or even to being ignored by her, in fact they welcomed the lack of supervision. They continued with their frolicking and flirting and didn't pay much attention to the condition that Meg seemed to fall further and further into.
Her mother on the other hand had noticed from the moment she layed eyes on Meg when she returned. She was concerned for her well being and yet something within her told her not to pry. It certainly seemed like something out of her control and so she could only sit back and watch as her daughter fell more and more into her lament.
One evening, as the theatre fell quiet and the ballerinas were given leave to roam the city, Meg found herself once again drawn to the practice hall. The immense room was a lovely kind of quiet and a brilliant full moon lit the space, casting wide beams of soft silver light across the wooden floor. The farther into the room she moved the louder and the stronger the urge and the silent music of her mind pulled her to dance. She dropped the blanket on a window sil and placed her practice slippers on her feet. In the moonlight and quiet she found peace and happiness as she danced. She was graceful in her actions and emotion poured from her movements. She lost herself in the space and the moon light, as if she had been taken into a trance, one she would never dream of fighting.
Suddenly a shadow passed through the moon beams in the room and she lost her footing. She fell hard to one side landing on the palms of her hands and twisting one of her feet uncomfortably to break her fall.
"Meg, are you hurt?" she heard a voice in the darkness asked and felt an arm around her.
"I don't think so," she said softly and leaned on the Phantom to gain her balance again, "I should be fine," she added as she let go of his arm and put more pressure on the foot she had twisted.
"I apologise if I startled you," he said as he watched her limp a little.
"I'm sure anything would have startled me," she said with a small giggled, "I've been such a fright to everyone myself I believe."
The Phantom remained silent as he watched her. She walked for a moment around the practice hall, before she decided to sit and stop for the evening.
"What brings you out?" she asked as she looked at him in the moonlight, standing tall and strong but gentle, "have you finished your work so soon?"
"I have," he said as he picked up the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"That is wonderful news," she said a bit dreamily.
"Are my managers still in the building?" he asked.
"They haven't been leaving, so I assume that they are still in their office," she said as she pulled off her practice shoes and unwrapped the tape that held her toes. They were blood soaked as she removed them but she didn't seem bothered by this.
"You've been working yourself to hard little one," Erik said as he shuddered at the sight of the blood that came off her dainty little feet.
"There can not be perfection without a little pain," she said and wrapped clean bands of linen around her feet before replacing her shoes, "shall I take you up to see Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre?" she asked as she held the blanket tightly around her and carried her ballet slippered in her other hand.
"Thank you, but I prefer to see them alone," Erik said with a sort of bow towards her, "I wish you a good evening and a peaceful rest."
"And I you," she smiled timidly and turned. She limped as she walked across the practice hall and disappeared through a door that led to the ballet dormitories.