Hello all! Thank you thank you for your reviews... Those of you putting on the alert and adding to favorites thank you as well, but leave a review! It means the world to me :D
I take no ownership of the character of Erik/Phantom or anything that I take from the movie.
I'm going to start putting things in Erik's POV more... Its hard to write most of everything from Abigail's POV; I can't describe anything!
THANK YOU AND ENJOY!
RedDeathLvr: Yes, yes she is! I'm still working out whats shes going to do next :P
PhantomFan01: Thank you for your review! Keep on reviewing, and I'll keep writing :D
TheLoverofNight: Thank you! I really love writing it, so I'm equally excited :)
WARNING: I have midterms coming up, so it will take a tiny bit longer for the next chapter to come out... Sorry!
Searing, burning, consuming hate; surrounding, controlling, intoxicating fear, spinning and spinning around and around! Abandon me, leave me… ignore me! Slam the door shut, lock it and throw away the key. Don't trust me. Leave me be in this shallow world...
Alone and forsaken; abused and forgotten…
Cruel, cruel world… why…Why…. WHY?
Nothing from the beginning, doomed from the start! Never a chance at life! Overcome with anxiety, searching, pleading… Humiliation. Pain. Tears.
NO! Never again… Run, hide, cower.
Survive.
If there is one thing that all people have in common, it is their will to survive. Nothing else matters. Only the thought of the next meal, or perhaps the protection of oneself against another is everyone's goal. To live to see the next day is why we live. We all have our own different ways of doing it; these different ways cause issues and cause confusion. With these differences that we find in one another, we do not realize how different we must look to the other person. Only with putting down our thirst for survival will we finally be able to embrace one another, to accept each other for what they are.
Without the fear of judgement or pain, we see clearer, and have the ability to love.
Abigail lay in the bed, surrounded by fear. She was cold and hungry but knew of no way to fix this. The blankets were useless. She could not eat the pillow, no matter how much it felt like a marshmallow. Maybe if she simply…
She was going mad.
How long had she lain there? Her tears had long since run dry. She felt as if there were no water left in her body to bring forth. Abigail desperately wanted to get up, to leave the bed, to do something, but what? What if she fell off into the water? She did not know how to swim.
She hiccup escaped from her lips, her throat still tight from the fit she had. She wasn't sure where the Phantom was throughout the whole ordeal; she hadn't heard him over her sobs. Was he gone? She prayed so. After a moment of thought, she finally decided on getting up.
Hissing as she lifted her limp body from the sheets, she realized just how long she had been laying there. Abigail snatched up her cane, opened it, and began to feel around before forcing herself onto the ground.
It was a slow process. She slowly walked around the small circular bed, feeling about. After deciding that she could get out on any side of it, she stored the information for later on. She steadily made her way around, hitting her cane against various objects. She discovered that in the immediate area there was what appeared to be a wardrobe, mirror, and a small table with a candlestick on it.
Moving down to the sound of water, she suddenly gasped as she tripped down and fell onto her face.
"FUCK." She screamed, making a mental note of a couple stairs leading into the "bedroom", or perhaps just a level change? She didn't care.
Rubbing her nose, she moved on. It took about half an hour to get a general idea of the area. After almost falling into the water twice, almost shattering an elbow, and bruising her knee, she discovered that the entire area she was on was only about fifty large paces. In the center there was a wooden table, what kind she was unsure of. Towards the east was a large organ (she refrained from playing it out of fear the Phantom would return), to the west was a small door that she could not open. Scattered around were books, pieces of paper, a few chairs, another large mirror, and plenty of candles all about.
Abigail frowned. In this entire adventure, she had not found one thing to eat. Worse still, she had not found one way of escaping.
Suddenly, she heard a steady splash in the water echoing off of the walls. She froze. Who was it? What was it? Should she hide?
She quickly dashed off in the direction of the bedroom. It was a much less sneaky escape than she could have hoped for. Somehow she had forgotten the level change, smashed her foot into the solid rock, and smashed into the ground.
"FUCK MY LIFE." She screamed in pain, clutching her foot as she rolled around in agony.
Abigail heard a small thud of an object connecting with the lair's rock ground, followed by a set of feet jumping onto it, marching over toward her. Someone leaned over her; she felt their eyes examine her pitiful sight.
"If you wish to survive, you must learn faster." Came a dark hiss, not amused in the slightest.
"Well perhaps if you drew a map for me-"
"Silence!" came a yell before a hand connected with her cheek. She dropped her head to the ground, gasping for breath.
She looked back up to the voice, tears welling in her ghostly eyes. She desperately wanted to see who she was dealing with; perhaps it may give her some insight on how to act around him. But she simply did not know. She was so confused and hurt; he had taken her and now it seemed as if he would just abused her for no reason. What kind of life was she to live?
A deep sigh came from the dark. The Phantom snatched her wrist with his gloved hand and pulled her to her feet before dragging her to a chair at the table.
"I assume you are hungry." He snapped before walking off in the direction of the water.
"Y-yes…" Abigail whispered. She heard him rustling around with something before returning to the table and setting down a noisy brown paper bag. She frowned.
"There is food in here." He said quickly, noticing her confusion, "I normally do not keep much around, but since you are not used to… my diet, I decided to not let you starve and bring you some things."
She heard him dump the contents of the bag onto the table. She hesitated, not sure if she should take something.
Silence.
"Well, eat something!" the Phantom yelled impatiently.
Abigail jumped, startled. She quickly reached out and grabbed the first thing her hand landed on. It was a cucumber. Abigail didn't even like cucumbers. Placing it in front of her, she reached out and found a bag of lettuce. Irritated, she continued looking, only to find things of the same nature.
"I'll just, uh, make a salad…" she murmured, afraid to ask him to buy more suitable food next time.
"Very well." The Phantom said, turning and wandering off into the direction of the organ.
"Uhm..."
She heard the Phantom freeze. She gulped and quickly stammered out, "You wouldn't happen to have a bowl and fork would you."
"No." he said harshly.
She quickly nodded, and he turned away again. Abigail scratched her head. How was she supposed to make a salad without even a bowl?
Her thoughts drowned away at the sound of the music. Such wonder tone, beautiful notes, spectacular execution of the rhythm. She was enthralled at the sudden beauty of the air around her, amazed at how much happiness suddenly entered her soul. She did not want to listen to anything else for the rest of her life. Abigail laid her head on top of the lettuce bag and shut her eyes, letting the music go through her. She song faded away as quickly as it began.
"Are you asleep?" came a shout from the organ. Abigail jumped up and quickly opened the bag.
"No! No, I'm not. I'm making the salad." She said hastily.
The music began again. It took every ounce of control to keep herself from listening again. She forced her mind to concentrate at the matter at hand; how to make a salad without a bowl. Or a fork. Or decent food.
She sensed eyes on her as she sat, contemplating the task at hand. Suddenly feeling pressured, she decided on simply eating the entire bag right then and there. She grabbed the cucumber, realizing she needed a knife. Abigail cursed at herself for deciding on such a difficult meal to make.
The music stopped. Steps began to shuffle around, and then made their way over to her. She was quickly beginning to recognize them as the Phantom's. They were very distinct; silent and yet sharp. Purposeful.
A whistle came through the air, tearing an inch away from her face before a sharp twang! hit the table in front of her. She twitched away from it.
"Take it." The Phantom demanded. Abigail kept her face down, reaching out to the object.
A sharp pain shot up her hand as she felt her finger slice open. She hissed, quickly drawing it back.
"Are you an idiot?" The Phantom snapped, grabbing her hand away from her and inspecting it. She did not reply this time, head returning to its shameful downward stare. A moment passed before he let go, left, and returned with a cloth. He torn it and wrapped it around her finger, "Be more careful when I present you with sharp objects." He sneered.
"I didn't know." Abigail whispered.
"Well, there is a finely jeweled dagger in front of you, so you know. Use it; do not break it." The Phantom said before walking back to his organ.
Abigail shook her head. How was she supposed to survive down here? He just did not understand. She admitted it; she was extremely incompetent. She was a blind vegetable that couldn't do anything herself. But the least he could do was recognize that she was in the dark and tell her things she should know.
She reached out with more caution this time. Feeling around, she found the hilt of the dagger and pulled it out of the table where it had been jammed into. She used it to cut up the cucumber into small pieces toss them into the bag. After her search for other things to add into her makeshift salad, she swallowed her pride, shoved her hand into the bag, and shoving the mess into her mouth.
"I'll buy some utensils tomorrow." The Phantom said, a slight hint of disgust in his tone.
Abigail sighed, a spare bit of cucumber flying onto the table.
Erik moaned.
This girl would be much more of a problem than he anticipated. If he knew she was blind when she was playing, he would never have taken her. He would have rather killed her than to have to deal with a useless lump of flesh around.
But she wasn't useless. No, not at all.
The way she played, the way the music drew him in… It was nothing compared to the dull singing of other girl. Her voice had no passion, no feeling. But this girl… He had not heard someone play like that since, well, him.
His fantasy acted before his mind. He snatched at the one thing that made him have some sort of feeling other than the hatred and anger and stole it away for himself. Erik did not wish to share this jewel in a basket of rocks. Nobody could take away the music from him. He would destroy anyone who would.
Erik paused, realizing he had been pacing back and forth. He looked over to the swan bed where the girl was asleep. After she had eaten, the girl had quickly fled back to it. He wondered where he would sleep. Not that he needed much of it.
Walking over to the bed, he watched the girl sleep. She seemed pretty much out; he felt safe enough to approach. Stalking up to her side, he kneeled down and gazed at her eyes, knowing underneath lay nothing but a white fog. Erik frowned. He had not been very conscious of that today. He was not used to having someone around, let alone someone who could not see anything.
How was he supposed to deal with this? He grew angry with himself again. Why did the world have to be so cruel? He finally found something he could look to for some sort of peace and it turned out to be broken. He wanted to hit her again, this horrible mess that he forced upon himself, but stopped himself. It would be bad to make her mad at him. What if she refused to play for him later because of it?
Erik stood up, still watching her. Her breaths came out evenly. She was still wearing the same clothes that he had stolen her in; some ugly black sweater, a pair of, what were they called? jeans?, and black boots. He would need to buy some clothes for her or risk the place smelling of body odor. What else did she need? He felt like he had just gotten his very first pet and was clueless as to whether it used a litter box, or needed to take it outside. Erik sighed.
Walking out of the room, he grabbed a spare piece of paper and made his way over to the organ. He sat down, taking the pen from its small container, and paused as he was about to label his list.
What was the girl's name?
He didn't even bother to ask. Erik mentally slapped himself. How could he be keeping some girl here and not even know her name? What if she asked him his? Would he tell her? Of course not. She knew who he was.
He settled for naming the list, "Girl's Shopping List". He shook his head at the ridiculous title, but continued on.
Girl's Shopping List
New Clothes
New pair of shoes
Different food
Plates, bowls, forks, spoons, knives, cups
Water/Other drinking things
Bathing materials (?)
Extra towel(s)
Hair things (?)
Things for blind people
Erik frowned at his less than satisfactory list. It was rather vague—he didn't know what else to put. Should he ask the girl to write a list for him? No. She probably couldn't even write. What he got would have to be enough. Erik left the list out to let the ink dry. Looking down to the keys, he closed his eyes, ready to begin playing when he paused. Would he wake the girl if he played? He narrowed his eyes.
Everything was revolving around this stupid little girl now! His entire life seemed to have change now that he had to… care for this foolish being. He could not even play without his mind drifting off to her! Erik growled to himself. No. He would not care if she woke. He would play his organ if he wished!
He slammed his hands onto the keys, grinning madly at the enormous sound that bellowed out of them. He did not stop; he continued on, gliding his hands across the keys as the notes blended together in a beautiful mess of sound. It grew more and more wild, seemingly having no purpose until suddenly it all made sense. The notes fit together perfectly in one's ear; it was a calculated chaos. When all seemed lost, at the last moment, it was as if the light had shone upon you and showed you the way.
When Erik finished his song he was breathing heavily. He always got far too excited whenever he played that particular piece. He glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin at the swan bed, wondering if she had awakened. No movement.
Erik frowned, disappointed. He jumped up and glided across the rocks over to her, pushing the curtain aside. Her position had changed, but eyes still closed. Even breaths. He tapped his foot with frustration before turning away.
"You play beautifully."
Erik's ears burned. How did she know he was there? How did he not know she was awake?
Ignoring her words, he marched off.
"DOUG!" Aimee screamed, slamming her fist against the door, "DOUG! OPEN UP!"
Aimee's screams were met with a kind old woman's face. The woman smiled at her through the waves of wrinkles pouring off of her face, "Oh hello dear! What can I help you with?"
"Hello, Mrs. Porter. Is Doug in?" Aimee said quickly, searching the room behind the woman.
"No, no! We do not wish to buy Girl Scout cookies little girl!" the woman said with the same smile, reaching up and patting Aimee on the head. She was about a head taller than Doug's grandmother, who stood only about 4'11''.
Aimee sigh impatiently at the old delirious woman, "No, Mrs. Porter. I'm Aimee remember?"
"Aimee!" came a call from inside. Doug appeared behind his grandmother a few moments later, "Hey Aimee, I thought you and Abigail were taking a girls day or something?"
"Uh, yeah. That's why I'm here." Aimee said nervously, following Doug inside as he led his grandmother through the living room and into her bedroom upstairs. Coming back down to Aimee, he offered her a seat on the couch and sat next to her.
"So what's up?" Doug asked casually, flipping on the TV.
Aimee began to tear up. How was she to tell him? Doug glanced over at her, noticing she was upset, "Aimee, what's wrong?"
Aimee broke down, "I-it's Abigail…" she cried
"What happened to Abigail?" Doug asked, sitting up straighter, leaning in.
"S-She's… she's gone!" Aimee cried out, dropping her head into her hands and beginning to cry.
"She ran away?"
"N-no! S-she… We… We were a-at the O-opera H-house…"
"Why were you there? I thought it was under construction!"
"I-I made her come with me… I wanted to s-see it before my audition…"
Doug stared at her in disbelief, "How is she gone? She was with you!"
"I know!" Aimee yelled, looking up at him through puffy eyes, "We were inside, and we went on the stage… And she began to play on a piano she found, and I began to sing… and… Oh god, I can't believe myself!" Aimee cried, clutching onto her hair.
"What happened?" Doug shouted, grabbing her shoulders.
Aimee stared wide eyed at him before quickly spilling her guts, "W-we were there, on the stage, and s-she was playing… and I was singing…"
"I KNOW THAT PART!" Doug yelled, shaking her violently. Aimee cried out, but continued.
"W-when I was s-s-singing, I s-saw someone coming towards us… And I-I-I didn't know what to do, and I t-tried to warn her… B-but… Oh god, I ran away, Doug! I left Abigail and someone took her and I left her and she's all alone! She's gone!"
DUN DUN ...
What will Doug do? Will the Phantom ever grow to like Abigail? What will Abigail do next? All of this and more, next chapter! Teehee.
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I have up to chapter 5 written... I CANT WAIT TO SHARE IT WITH YOU! AHHHHHHHHH! Just review more, and I'll make sure to get these chapters out! I wrote them so I wouldn't slack off THAT much during the next week (midterms and such).