Haleybob here! And with a new chapter no less! I hope you enjoyed last chapter and I can only thank you all for the reviews! Believe it or not, they help a lot to get me going!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Phantom of the Opera but that's the same for everyone except Leroux so HA!

Part Sixty-one:

"This is the music room, my dear." Christine said softly, leading the blind child in the room. "If you feel over here, you can touch the grand piano. Yes, there you are, you like that don't you?" Lark's slow, careful fingers felt all over the piano, over the keys, the smooth, closed top and even the legs and pedals at the bottom and its stool. "We don't play it near enough though," the woman continued with a sigh, "but I still like to keep it. Such a beautiful sound…can you play at all, my dear?" The child nodded, her eyes closed and her fingers still tracing the wood with tender care. No bothering with opening her eyes now, for without any sight at all there was no point. Christine clapped her hands together, startling the child, happily. "You can?" she asked cheerfully, "My dear, then you must show me! Will you play me a little song?" Lark turned to the woman's direction and nodded once before sliding herself carefully onto the bench. Suddenly her fingers where flying over the keys as though another force were controlling her hands. A smile spread across Christine's face as she watched this child play an old French lullaby. For the Vicomtess, it was merely a pretty song but for Lark…Tears welled up in her eyes as she played the song slowly. Erik sang this for her to help her to sleep, and now she would play it with her own hands. Softly she started to sing the song under her breath.

Il y a longtemps que je t

She couldn't finish and her fingers lay limp on top of the piano's silky keys. Christine came over and rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. "You play very well," she commented, "and your singing isn't bad either." Lark didn't reply to this but stood up and turned to Christine. "Would you mind," she said in a monotone voice, "If I played now and then? I know the way, now." Christine began to nod then remembered who she was with. "Of course, my dear," she said pleasantly, "You may play whenever you find a need." Lark didn't smile, but curtsied clumsily anyways and voiced her thanks. She made her way out of the room carefully, her arms still outstretched as she wasn't fully aware of the surroundings. She had heard Christine's footsteps head down the stairs, leaving the music room so there would be no more tour at the moment. The halls were easy enough to get around but there was still the furniture and decorations that Lark still ran into from time to time. Just now, she felt her foot catch something and she tumbled to the ground. "Damn," she swore, feeling stupid and helpless as she felt behind her to see what she fell over. Stupidly enough, to her, the only thing she had tripped over was the upturned corner of the rug on the floor.

"You're such a little clumsy fool, Lark." She spat to herself, taking perverse pleasure in making fun of her disability. "That would have never happened had you seen the rug." She paused and got up, dusting her hands on her dress. "Oh yes, that's right," she sneered, walking down the halls once again. "You can't see, can you, Lark? You're a poor little blind girl without a family!" The child somehow mad it to her room and, feeling the small chink of missing wood underneath the door handle she had made a week before, Lark let herself into her room and sank on her divan. She hugged herself tight but no tears fell. She hadn't cried for so long, it felt as though her very tears had deserted her. She didn't even sleep regularly for it was always in her little world, nighttime. She had made a brave stand against her blindness by making things for her to feel like the chink under the door handle so she would know it was her room or the little different shaped beads she sewn onto her dresses so she could tell which ones she was choosing by feeling the bead. Even so she was lonely in her dark world. No one could help her see again, that she knew, and no one really knew what it was like to always wake up to nothing but black. Pitch black with no colors, no light, and just emptiness.

But she could feel. Perhaps that was her only connection to her normal world, was her sense of touch. Lark woke in the, she guessed, morning because of the warmth she felt on her skin as sunlight filtered through the window. She purposely made the maids keep the curtains open so she could at least sense the warmth and tell if it was night or day. Christine kept her by her side by lightly touching her arm, letting her know where she was. Hugs she got often as well, and that would help ward off the lonely feelings though not completely. Only one person's embrace could help her in that, blind or no. "Erik." She whispered to herself as she touched her face. How she wished she could have seen him again, to see him with his mask and stylish suits. Or better yet, without the mask. Lark wondered why she never insisted he keep it off around her though now that she thought about it, she kept silent about it because she had also done so when her Mama was still alive. Never questioned was the mask and it was so normal on his and her face that she never mentioned them. No point in drawing attention to the obvious. It was uncomfortable for him. Oh yes, Lark always noticed when he shifted it on his face with annoyance. His mask had been a nuisance but he had kept it on for sake of her. Perhaps she was the only reason why he kept it on. Did he have it off a lot when she wasn't living with him? Did he have it off now?

Her lips trembled. Did Erik even miss her? What if he forgotten about her and moved on? "No!" she cried out furiously, standing up from her bed. She would banish these awful, soul-eating thoughts! They weren't true, they couldn't be true. She knew Erik and he knew her. The child clenched her fists tight against the wave of pain that crashed over her head. They knew each other by heart now, they knew….no. No, Erik didn't know everything, she realized with horror, because she never told him anything! "You idiot," she murmured to herself, crossing over to the window and smacked her head against the warm glass with frustration. "You bloody ignorant idiot!" Biting her lip savagely, the metallic taste of blood tinged her tongue and she pulled away from the window. Outside, she would go outside to the garden! There she would think of nothing and try to relax. Christine had taken her into the garden to calm down after a tantrum one day and had shown her the way to the little bench near the rose bushes. It had been lovely, sitting in the spring air and the soft, lovely scent of roses had nearly made Lark burst into tears again.

Yes, she would go to the garden and hope to seek some sort of emotional refuge there. Besides, she loved to hear people walk by and hear their carefree or hurried conversations. Some would bid her a good day sometimes and other times people would just pass Lark by. But she loved being close to the world she used to belong in.

Erik: You're not going to beg shamelessly for reviews? I'm impressed!

Are you kidding? Of course I'm going to beg! I have no pride after all! (gets on knees) Please have mercy on a writer's soul and give me a review! They help sooooo much!

Erik: ...