Christine ran through the forest. Her breath came in short puffs, her legs and lungs burned, and her eyes desperately scanned for any possible hiding place.
Nowhere seemed good enough.
"Chrissstttiiine?" a voice sang.
The shadows grew, and she knew the voice couldn't be far behind her.
She whipped her head around, panic clouding her mind.
"Christine?"
Her eyes rested on a log and she gave a fleeting smile. It might just do the trick.
The air went still, and any warmth that could be found between the trees vanished.
Christine knew she had to move if she wanted to avoid being spotted.
She dropped to the ground and wriggled underneath the log trying to catch her breath in rasping gasps. Her pulse raced.
"Christine?" the voice asked.
It was much, much closer now.
Christine tried to quiet herself down, her chest burning from the effort. She clapped her hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing.
She couldn't get caught.
"Christine?"
She leaned forward just a bit to try and peek out from underneath the log.
A steel like grip wrapped around her ankles and pulled.
Christine shrieked.
"I've found you!" the voice cried.
Meg had just fallen asleep when her phone rang. She blindly groped for it. "Hello?" she asked in a sleep-heavy voice, not bothering to check the caller ID. It was probably Joseph, calling for a drunk booty call. She tried not to be irritated, but it was nearly impossible given that they had school the next morning. "Look. Joseph, can't your boner wait until the morning? Because-"
"Meg?"
Meg's blood froze.
She knew that voice.
"Meg? Are you there?" the small voice asked.
"Christine?" Meg whispered.
It was impossible. Christine didn't know her number, and even if she did, Meg highly doubted she sounded like a seven year old anymore.
"Meg, it's so dark here! I don't want to be here anymore!" Christine cried.
Meg's jaw quivered as she listened to Christine weeping and tried to formulate a response. "Christine-"
"I don't want to sing anymore! I want to go home!"
This can't be real.
"Christine, tell me where you are, I-I'll come get you-" Meg offered, her heart thudding in her chest. She scrambled out of bed and didn't move the phone from her ear for a second.
If anything, Christine's blubbering only intensified.
Meg shoved the anxiety down. There was no time for that. She had bigger fish to fry.
"Christine, please, I want to help-" Meg began. She was cut off when she noticed what was happening to the shadows on her wall.
They were getting taller and blacker and wider, and for the second time that night she heard a voice she had thought she had forgotten.
"Come to your strange angel!"
Meg dropped her phone.
While the sound of Christine's cries quieted, the voice came from everywhere.
Meg desperately tried to locate it. Her eyes swiveled across the room and her ears strained. She tightened her fists and drew her arms close to her body. It seemed that just when she thought she had traced the voice, it oozed out of another shadow.
He couldn't be here. Not in her room. Not in her house.
She was supposed to be safe from the woods.
She looked at her mirror where the voice seemed to be strongest. She slowly crept towards it.
"Do not shun me! Come to your strange angel!" the voice repeated.
Meg's skin started to crawl and she felt cold.
She was almost to the mirror when all the air she had fled her lungs.
There was a bone white face in the glass.
She came closer, just to get a better view of it.
The mirror shattered and she plunged into the dark and cold.
She could feel it getting in her nose, her mouth, her lungs, her blood, oh, god, she couldn't breathe…
Distantly, she heard Christine singing.
Light slammed into her and pulled her away from the nightmare behind her eyelids.
Her alarm was blaring, and she could smell her mother making Laurel, Claudette, and Emmanuelle breakfast. She sat up and surveyed her room.
No shadows, no broken mirrors, no monsters.
She double checked her phone.
And no Christine Daae.
Satisfied, she brushed her hair and threw on the outfit she laid out last night. It was better for everyone if she forgot about her dream.
It was hard enough for her childhood friends to move on.
The thought of approaching any one of them with the return of the voice was almost cruel. The dream was probably just fueled by the stress from school starting again. Pushing the dream out of her mind, Meg hopped down the stairs and tumbled into the kitchen/dining room.
The red table was getting dirtier by the minute what with Emmanuelle's shaky grip on the orange juice and Claudette's careless crunching of toast. Laurel, who just turned thirteen and fancied herself 'mature', was the only one too cool to eat the breakfast their mother made, and was daintily eating her bowl of cheerios. Meg's mother, was finishing up the last of the bacon. She slid the last few slices on to a ceramic plate and, moving away from the granite counters she was so proud of, gave Meg a tight smile. She added the plate to the chaos that was the table.
Meg had almost forgotten about her dream when she caught her reflection in the dining room mirror propped on the good china cabinet. She gave her head a little shake. Just a dream.
She sat down next to a clearly ravenous Claudette and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
Just a dream.
"Margarite?" her mother asked.
Meg looked up at the sound of her full name and tried not to roll her eyes.
"Darling, I have something to tell you," her mother said in a voice as gentle as a woman such as Annette Giry could manage.
Warning bells went off in Meg's head.
"Sure, Mama," Meg said. "What's up?" She hoped her playing it casual would throw her mother off just enough to think of a way to hide the fact that she went out with Joseph last week instead of spending the night at Carlotta's like she'd said she was.
Her mother gave the younger girls a look. "Girls, go put your shoes on," she instructed. They didn't hesitate, though Laurel stopped to give Meg a slightly nervous look. When one of them was in trouble, they were all in trouble.
Meg sighed in resignation. "What did I do this time?" she asked.
Her mother sat down across from her and put her hand on Meg's. Meg stared at it. Her mother was being so gentle. She hadn't been like this with Meg since…
Since what had happened with tossed that thought out of her head.
It's just a dream.
"You're not in trouble, Margarite. There's something I want to speak with you about," her mom replied.
Meg cocked her head. What could be so important?
Her mother took this as an invitation to continue. She sighed deeply. "Darling," she said, "Mr. Daae has died."
Meg's face drained of color. "What?" she whispered.
Annette's face showed nothing but soft sympathy. "Mr. Daae. Little Christine's father? He used to play violin for you and your friends? He's passed away, my love."
Meg slowly shook her head. No. This couldn't be. The world couldn't be that cruel.
It was just a dream.
"When? How?" Meg asked in a dazed voice, gripping her mother's hand for comfort.
"Heart attack. Meg, I'm telling you this because Christine will be moving back into town."
Meg suddenly felt faint. No, she still had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real.
She struggled to swallow. She knew that her mother would never lie to her, not about this, but she couldn't help but hope that this was all some kind of sick joke. It was as if someone had carved her hollow last night and now her mother was stuffing her with bad news and sorrow.
"I know it's been a long time and things are different now, but it would mean a lot to me and Mrs. Valerious if you would look out for Christine her first week," her mother said.
"Is that who told you?" Meg asked.
Mama nodded. She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Keep an eye out for her," she instructed.
Meg nodded dutifully .
She ruffled Emmanuelle's hair on the way out the door.
It has to be just a dream.
The first day of school was like any other but, at the same time, completely different .
This year especially, Meg couldn't help but think as she walked up to the school entrance.
Students were milling around the front of the building, already breaking off into their little groups. Meg craned her neck to search for someone she knew and caught the eyes of one of her childhood friends.
Carlotta was surrounded by cheerleaders. It never ceased to amaze Meg that the tomboyish, scrawny Carly who used to be her best friend grew up to be the snotty drama queen Carlotta.
Meg wondered if she knew Christine was in town.
She smiled at the cheerleaders she was friendly with and ignored the sneers of the ones she wasn't, like Carlotta. Meg snorted in disgust. Carlotta's little 'transformation' freshman year always served to turn Meg's stomach.
She pushed away thoughts of Carly-turned-Carlotta. It was nothing but old drama that didn't need to be renewed.
She walked past them and into the school.
Meg saw Jammes when she passed the gym and caught herself using the wrong name. No, he's James now, Meg reminded herself. He was throwing the basketball around with his new friends. Out of all of her childhood best friends, she missed James the most, second only to Christine, whom she'd thought she'd never have a chance at seeing again. For what felt like the millionth time, she shook her head to clear it and walked past the hoped she could see James off the bench this year.
Meg waved to some of the girls on her dance squad as she passed. Sorelli, one of the prettier dancers, swished her long, high ponytail, and Meg did her best not to turn beet red. God, she was hot. Even hotter then Meg's current fuck buddy. Unfortunately for Meg, it was crazy unprofessional for the dance captain to sleep with members of the squad.
Meg got to her locker. Across the way, she spotted Raoul speaking with a group of well-groomed students she assumed to be the rest of the student council. Meg had voted Raoul for president mostly out of obligation rather than a genuine wish to see him in office. What were childhood best friends for anyways?
A slamming noise three lockers down had Meg jumping out of her skin.
For half a second, she heard the mirror shatter all over again.
It was just Piangi.
The guys who shoved him called out "Fatass!" over their shoulders before continuing on, laughing all the while. Piangi slowly picked up his things and seemed to move on too. Meg never understood why people had to go out of their way to give him shit. The creepy goth thing he had going really put her at unease, especially after everything that had happened, but it wasn't like he was hurting anyone, unlike those douchebags who shoved him.
Meg thought about helping him when she heard something that made her heart stop.
"Meg?"
Meg turned around.
There she was. She hadn't gotten very tall but she still had those same long curls and big eyes that still seemed to swim with terror.
"Meg?" the girl said.
Meg took a deep breath before giving her a shaky smile. "Christine."