Chapter four! Isn't this great? I'm surprised I have been keeping up with this story so well. But it must be because of my fascination with Phantom of the Opera. In this chapter, it was another point of view, just so you know. Btw, I'm planning on writing another POTO story. But I have not fully decided yet. (reviews are loved, thanks)
Chapter Four
Evelyn jerked into alertness as her door was opened with a groan. "Evelyn?" Came a soft. familiar voice.
"Mhmm." She moaned, sitting up, wiping her eyes of sticky tears and sleep.
"Did I wake you?" Alice whispered in the dark, her dancer feet lightly hitting the floor as she drew closer.
"No, no, Alice." She lied, scooting her pillow to the headboard. "Is their something you wanted?"
"Ah, yes. I came to ask if you'd like to have breakfast with me." She spoke silently, now right over Evelyn, breathing light on her cheek.
"I am awfully hungry." Her stomach agreed in a rumble. "Yes, I'd be delighted." She felt a smooth hand press against her, helping her up. "Thank you, but-" She started. You aren't letting anyone in, Evelyn. Let her help you. Alice, seeming not to hear her beginning plea, kept her hand laced in hers, guiding her into the hallway and to wherever they would dine.
"Did you sleep well?" Alice muttered in her childish voice. Evelyn wondered how old this girl was, she sounded no older than 14 or so. She could image the adolescent features on her face, afraid in the dark morning's light.
"Oh, yes, very." She fibbed, her hands grazing across the pealing wallpaper. They needed to fix that. I'll have to say something to Po- The name brought back the sharp bitterness of last night's quarrel and she bit her lip, containing the pain. She shouldn't have said those things to him. He pained as well. Pain, how they shared it.
"Are you alright?" Alice worried, stopping to turn to the whimpering women. Evelyn hadn't even known that she was sniveling. She quickly pushed the tears away and cleared her throat.
"Of course, I'm fine." She comforted little Alice. Evelyn couldn't think of anything to explain for her soft cries of hurt.
"Okay." Thankfully, Alice knew she didn't want to press the subject which calmed Evelyn. Alice wasn't that bad at all. Maybe we could be friends.. Alice watched Evelyn as they continued down the hall, studying her. Her green eyes seemed to pierce through Alice's soul and touched her. How could such a beautiful girl be repaid with her blindness? She wondered if she was aware of her beauty. Already stage men spoke of her, late at night in the dorms. She worried for Evelyn's safety sometimes. She had just met her yesterday, but she knew how the men could be when liquor was fresh on their lips.
Alice tightened her grip, protecting. She found it silly how her, a thirteen year old was caring for a women, but she liked it too. She wanted Evelyn to like her, treat her as a sister, for she didn't remember what it was like to have a family. Orphaned and abandoned to the Opera House when she was a lot younger, she couldn't recall the feeling of family. She gnawed at her bottom lip in thought as she whisked Evelyn and herself to the dining room. Turning around once more, to the women with fire as locks, she could see a soreness tugging in her eyes.
"Evie, we're here." She placed Evelyn in a smooth, shiny chair in front of the long dining table. The dining table was filled with elegant candles and numerous breakfast foods that filled her nose with delight. The table was specks with different, vibrant colors of food and it all looked enjoyable.
Evelyn was startled by the new nickname. Had she ever had a nickname? Once, just one. Her grandmother called her Evie as well. Slowly scooting into a seat, she whiffed up the rich fragrance of food. Her stomach moaned, telling her to eat. She was starving more than she had expected.
"What would you like? I can make you a plate." Alice helped, standing beside her.
"Everything." She replied, greedily. Alice complied to her wishes and piled her plate with as much of a variety as possible. She sat the plate in front of her and watched as Evelyn ate her food with no problem. She may be blind, but she knew where most things were. Alice slunk into a seat beside her, getting her own plate of food. Evelyn consumed her food, selfishly, filling up the emptiness in her stomach. Trying to only think of the food, she pushed away other feelings.
"Good, hm?" Alice muttered between her bites. Evelyn nodded, food filling her cheeks so that she couldn't give a better reply. "If you're wondering, your grandfather left a while ago. He didn't say where he was going." Alice clarified. Evelyn continued to eat, without say a word.
Alice glared down at her empty plate, wishing she hadn't even spoken of the subject. When she had said the words 'grandfather,' Evelyn face contorted in recollecting pain. Something had happened between the two last night, gossip soared in the Opera House. Someone told her that they had heard loud bickering last night, coming from Evelyn's room. Soon, Evelyn finished her food, shoving her plate to the side and removing the napkin from her lap.
"That was excellent." She smiled, licking her lips.
"I need to start practicing. Um, would you like to join me?" She invited, kindly, stretching as she rose.
"That would be great." To get her mind off of things…
"Do you dance?" Alice questioned as she took her to the stage.
"I used to. I did ballet." She replied, thinking: How long had it been since she had danced? How long had it been since she wore her ballet slippers and pranced around?
"Oh, maybe you can show me!" She jumped about in her new excitement.
"But…I have no slippers." She retorted, chewing her lip.
"Don't be silly. You can borrow some of mine. You look like you have the same size foot."
Evelyn cursed Alice for her persistence. She couldn't refuse now.
"Up here." Alice lent her a hand as she walked up the steps. Feeling as if on display, Evelyn fidgeted as she slipped on the ballet shoes that Alice had handed her.
"What do you want me to do?" Evelyn asked, moving her feet around in the long forgotten feeling of ballet slippers.
"Anything." Alice beamed, sitting on the stage to watch the blind girl dance.
"I don't remember much, so…" She started with a light tap, twirling as she reminisced all that had been elapsed. Not even afraid of falling off the stage, she continued.
Alice stared in amazement at the elegance of someone without sight. Not the only one, others came from behind the stage to watch. In her own world of creativity, Evelyn remember how her grandmother had taught her all she knew of dance. She taught her everything and now she was gone. As if her dampened thought entered her steps, she stumbled to a stop, tripping to the ground. Why couldn't she stop thinking about her grandmother? She had done so good before now. It was this place, the Opera House, but though it brought a twinge of agony, it also cultivated her heart. Clutching her chest, she gave in a sharp breath.
"Are you okay?" Alice fell down beside her, checking for any bruises or pain. The only pain and bruises were inside. Nothing matter to me on physically, it's what's happening on within that worries me. Evelyn let out another breath.
"I'm fine." She sighed as Alice hugged her.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to show me some of your ballet." Alice murmured in her ear, hot breath tickling her cheek.
"It's fine, really. Not a scratch." She pushed. Alice assisted her up. Sensing all eyes were on her, Evelyn cringed. Everyone had seen her fall. She awaited the snide remarks she would get. Blind girls shouldn't be dancing….Blind people should stay in there room. What use are they? But no harsh words came, only compliments.
"You were good. Exquisite." Came voices, feminine and masculine. She grinned, maybe she was too easily judgmental. Taking the slippers off and putting her other shoes back on, she asked if Alice could take her back to her room. She needed to rest, to think about things though she didn't want to.
Evelyn's grandfather, dressed in his best black suit with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in hand, slowly sauntered to his wife's grave. He had not been in a while, afraid of his own emotions. Now, fighting back tears, he placed the daisies beside the cement, chiseled with her name. How he missed her. He still had Evelyn, but her own pain dampened his moods. It wasn't Evelyn fault that she resembled his wife, not as much physically, but within. Evelyn's own dreams and talents were so much the same as hers were. Running him over the etched in name of his beloved, he thought of what Evelyn had said last night to him. '..you weren't the only one she loved…' The words nipped at his heart. He knew that she had meant that her grandmother loved her too, but she never knew the double meaning of it. His heart ached from the thought. He never acknowledged it, or made his wife believe that he knew, that inside her mind she thought of someone else, always. Always, thinking of someone else.
Beside his wife's tomb, lay his only daughter, Lydie. How young she had died, in birth. Placing a smaller bouquet on Lydie's grave, he remembered how it pained them both when they got news of her death., but they never blamed the baby, Evelyn, for the loss as her father did. He heaved a sigh, How horrible her father was to her when she grew old enough… When she was able, with her small hands and feet, to do as her father said, he treated her like a slave. Beating her with accusing words and belts. She still had scars hidden beneath her dresses from her whippings. When Evelyn was ten she attempted to run away with a neighborhood friend, but her father found her a few hours later, near a pond. He brought her back, only to be welcomed with more physical and mental hurt. Poppy and his wife had turned an eye at first, but when they heard of her endeavor, they took her away from the malevolent man.
Taking her when she slept, he recalled the shouts that boomed inside her old house. Her father wouldn't let her be taken without a fight and a fight he got. A fight he got…He reiterated in his mind. Creeping away from the morbid graves, he jumped back into the carriage, returning to the Opera House.
Evelyn awaited for Alice and her to be alone in her chambers, yearning for information. When the door shut, it was time.
"Who is in the forbidden room? Why are you all terrorized by him?" She sat down on her bed, Alice beside her.
"Um.." Alice didn't know what to say. Should she tell?
"Please, I need to know." Evelyn pleaded, her electric emerald eyes glaring into her chocolate ones.
"Okay." She succumbed. "The Phantom of the Opera, he's been torturing everyone who comes here. If we to not comply to his demands, whatever they may be, horrible things happen. But, thankfully, nothing has happened lately." Alice exclaimed, glancing over her should as she spoke.
"How do you know he's still there?" Evelyn questioned, unbelieving.
"I-I'm not sure how to explain it. It's as if you can sense his presence, watching you." She cringed at the thought. "People say he's dead, but if that's true, his ghost remains. I feel it. He's still here, alive or dead." Alice stared at the walls, wishing she could see through the walls, to find the Phantom's secret passages.
"But why does he stay there?" She persisted.
"Well, the Phantom's love used to inhabit there and he would visit through that room. Somewhere, he has secret passages into the room and other ones." Alice explained.
"His love? Where is she now?"
"I do not know. She ran off with another man, leaving the Phantom. I couldn't blame her." She scoffed in her adolescent mind.
"I don't blame in for haunting you. It seems like he's been through a lot."
Looking over Evelyn's sudden protectiveness of the Phantom, she continued, "Oh, and his face!"
"What about his face?" Evelyn grabbed Alice's hand, intrigued.
"I heard he is severely distorted on his right side! Oh, truly hideous looking!" Gossip getting the best of this ballet girl, she pressed on, "He wears a mask though. Called the devil's head! What a monster!"
Evelyn stayed quiet. This was all she wanted to hear of the poor Phantom. Poor man, she pitied.
"But I've heard he has a mesmerizing voice. Could hypnotize you in one syllable! It's kind of frightening if you think about it. Oh my!" Alice glanced at the father clock, noticing she was late for practice. "I must leave you, Evie." That was the last thing she said as she opened and shut the door, hastily. Poor man…
The poor man she thought of lay beneath the depths of the Opera House, busying himself with insignificant duties of cleaning. Sighing as he picked up the pieces of the sketch he had ripped up last night. How could he have done this? Mourning over the scraps of Christine. He could get angered to no end, but he still loved her and all he had now was his memories of her and his drawings. His paintings of her exquisite face, her lovely visage. He closed his eyes, savoring the memory of her sleeping in the bed, her feminine jaw, her lush lips.
Abruptly snapping out of his lustful fantasies, a rough growl escaping his throat. He scattered the pieces into the glistening lake, each scrap floating. Floating, Falling… The song echoed in his mind. Damn these memories! Curse himself for creating this dungeon for himself! He propelled the sheets of music that rested on his organ onto the floor in his fits of irritation. He bashed his fingers against the organ which had helped him through so much before, but now…he knew it would help. But he didn't want to play. He wanted nothing more to with music. Music reminded him of everything he didn't want to. Sitting on his black, leather bench, he put his head in his hands, in defeat. He was tired of struggling in his misery. It was time for him to become what he used to be, the Opera Ghost. It was time for him to bring fear to the young ballet rats and managers. Terror would once again flood the Opera House. Nodding, Erik agreed to himself.
Suddenly, he remembered the girl who mesmerized him. Who was she? Maybe a new ballet girl? Or maybe a new Prima Donna? Her voice was exquisite enough. Aggravated by his thoughts, he snarled in his easy submission. He wanted nothing to do with this girl who should repulse him. Repulse him as he repulsed himself. Erik swiped up his cape and leaped into the boat, ready to reek havoc.