Guys, I am really disappointed in the lack of reviews this is getting. A lot of people are adding this story to favorites or story alert, and I am getting no reviews from them (I know who you are, I get an email whenever someone does that). It means the WORLD to me when someone takes two extra seconds out of their day to contribute their thoughts/ideas/opinions to the chapters.
I really couldn't care less if it was even an, "zomg this iz so gewd" or even a "This fucking sucks balls man"
Thank you. ENJOY!
TheLoverofNight: Erik just doesn't understand, and hes not supposed to yet! He's been isolated from the world for a bajillion years and suddenly finds himself rooming with a blind girl. Its shocking to him! :P And thank you, midterms/finals are never a good thing for me xD
RedDeathLvr: An impatient sonofabitch! (at least for now!) :P
amysmiles: Hahaha! Your comment made me laugh. Sugar rushes are amazing o.o
To feel insecure is to feel fear. People are used to the life that they have lived for their entire life. To contemplate the idea of suddenly changing this is a scary thing; what will be different? Will this be permanent? Do things need to change?
However, the questions that most people do not ask themselves are the most important ones: Do I want this for someone else, or do I want it for me? Will I be better off, or will someone else?
However, those questions pose more questions. Do we change for ourselves, or do we change for others? Should we change ourselves FOR others? Is it worth it?
All of these insecurities cause stress and fear. We need an escape, some sort of outlet for them. Some chose positive outlets, others negative. Creation and destruction. We decide on how to react. Often times, these reactions will decide the outcome of the change that we have brought upon ourselves, or what has been brought upon us. Life is not about the things that happen to us, they are about how we decide to react to them.
We, after all, decide our own fate, do we not?
Whatever Erik had told himself yesterday that made him go out shopping the following day was a complete and utter mistake. He had not done anything right yet.
His first mistake today had been his choice of attire. Rather than going out in his normal suit and cape, he decided he should probably dress more like a person of this day and age due to the prolonged period he would be outside. Admittedly, he thought he looked quite dashing. This brought far more attention than he desired.
He wore simple black pants with a pair of fancy black shoes. On top, he put on a nice white shirt, a stylish light black jacket and a blue-grey scarf. On his head, rather than his mask (it would draw to much attention) he had a black hat tilted over to hide his face as well as large darkened out sunglasses. The affect made his… unpleasant side… almost completely hidden. One would need to look extremely closely to see anything off.
However, when first putting this outfit together in the early morning, he did not expect half of Paris's female population to be stalking him around corners and giggling as they followed him through stores.
Erik was seething.
He could not stand it. Why must they be so annoying? He was simply trying to decide on white or black plastic bowls. The fact that the girl could not see was ignored. He did not want bright pink bowls around his home.
Two ladies in their mid twenties came dangerously close to him as they pretended to also be examining the various bowls around them. Erik could not help but notice the two showing themselves off to him in a less than obvious manner. His ears burned as they bent over dramatically to look at the plates on the lower shelves.
He sped away, a couple black bowls tossed his shopping cart.
Erik shuddered as he left the store and made his way back to the Opera House. He deposited the bags into the small boat, took out his list, and crossed some things off.
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
Leaving the groceries behind, he went off into the streets to search for a different shop. Erik eventually found himself in a store that seemed to sell various washing materials. Grabbing a cart, he set off on his way.
What should he get her? He turned into the hair-care aisle and froze. An unending wall of different bottles and sprays met his eyes.
Who on earth could use all of this? There were too many shapes and sizes and colors to even begin to comprehend their use. He cautiously picked one up. After carefully examining the bottle, he discovered a word he could comprehend: Shampoo.
Success. He grabbed the other bottle that looks similar to it that was labeled 'conditioner' in the same spot.
"Looking for something in particular?" came a cheery voice from behind him.
Erik jumped up, almost dropping the two bottles. He quickly made sure his hat was in the right spot, coughed and replied, "Uh, no, no. I'm fine."
"Buying something for your grandmother?" the lady responded with a smile. She wore a simple black skirt with a dressy red shirt on top. Her black heels made an annoying tapping sound when they hit the floor as she walked near him.
"No. My… friend." He replied cautiously.
"Really? Is she balding?" she asked, surprised
Erik looked at her, shocked, "No! Why would you ask that?" he growled in response.
"Well," she said with a smile, "You're buying shampoo that's for people who are balding. It slows the process."
Erik frowned, defeated. How was he supposed to pick out the proper thing in this sea of random shit?
The lady frowned, tucked a piece of her long, straight blonde hair behind her ear, and said, "Here, let me help you! What's your friend's hair type?"
Erik stared at her.
She stared back. After a moment she elaborated, "Is it straight, wavy, or curly?"
Erik blinked. There was a difference between wavy and curly? How was he supposed to pick which one? He panicked. He did not want the girl to go bald and have to use the shampoo he was currently holding. Maybe he should keep it just in case.
"Uhm, uh, curly." He finally blurted out.
"Excellent!" the woman responded, walking in the completely opposite direction that Erik was walking, "Follow me!"
Ten minutes, fifty questions, and fifty lousy responses later, Erik found his cart full of all of the "essentials" the lady called them. Shampoo, conditioner, gel, brushes, deodorant, spray, clips, hair ties, body lotion, soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste, floss, anything he could have possibly imagined was laying in his shopping cart. The woman marched him up to the register and added it up.
"That's a seventy six dollars!" she said with a cheer. As Erik pulled out his wallet, he felt her watching him, "So, girlfriend just moved in, eh?" Erik stiffened.
"She is not my girlfriend." He said with a huff. How dare she try to make such assumptions! His anger was rising rapidly.
The girl winked at him, only furthering his foul mood, "Complicated, eh?" she laughed, taking the money he handed her. She fiddled with the register as she began to give him wisdom he definitely did not want to hear, "Well if you're all the way out here, you must care about her a little bit, if not more than a little bit, if you know what I mean!" she winked again. He glared.
"Just take it slow! You don't need to rush into things. I'm sure she's one of a kind!" she said with a grin as she handed Erik the change. He snatched the money, shoved it into his wallet and stormed off.
People had gotten so annoying since he had last been out. Trying to tell HIM what to do? Who did she think she was! And what useless words; they meant nothing to him, for the girl meant nothing. He was doing this so she would not die. Erik was positive that these "Seductive Apple" scented perfumes were absolutely necessary to a woman's health, otherwise he would not have bought them.
Erik finally made his way to the final stop of the day. It was nearing four in the afternoon and he wanted to make sure that the girl (he made a mental note to ask her of her name; continuously saying 'girl' felt wrong) had not drowned by now.
He was nervous. How many different options of clothes could there be? He was sure that there could not be as many as the shampoos. He did not know what he would do if he had to decide on that many things at once.
Erik nearly walked right back out when he entered the store.
As far as his eye could see there were thousands of woman's clothes. The last time he had been to a store it was specifically for men and was about a fourth of the size as this monster.
Erik wanted to throw up. Where was he to begin? Shirts? Shoes? Pants? He froze. He wouldn't need to buy her… underwear, would he?
He realized the gravity of the situation. The last thing he wanted was to know of every single last piece of clothing that this girl was going to be wearing in his home for the rest of her life. He needed assistance, immediately.
Erik rushed up to a bored looking sales lady. She looked early thirties with pin straight black hair and bangs that almost covered her eyes. She was extremely thin, wearing black pants and a white shirt on top.
"Hello? Hi, yes. Would you mind if you helped me for a bit?" he begged.
The woman looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"
Erik looked around, visibly out of his comfort zone. The lady almost laughed at him. He glared at her. The look was lost through the glasses.
"Yes. Yes, well, you see, my friend has recently moved into my house and finds herself completely out of all of her clothes. As in everything. I know nothing of this sort of thing, and she finds herself… unable… to leave the house at this present moment. Would you mind assisting me in finding her some clothes?"
The girl grinned, showing off her shiny white teeth, "Girlfriend moved in?" she asked excited, motioning with a finger for him to follow her.
He slapped a hand against his forehead before finally giving in, thinking it easier to just go along, "YES, yes, my girlfriend! I just need clothes!" he cried.
The lady laughed as she took a shopping cart, "Did you fuck her before she told you she had nothing else to put on or something?"
Erik did not know what to make of this, and simply sputtered. Why do people these days think like this? What happened through the years? Did he fuck her? What?
"You don't need to answer that!" the lady said, winking at him, "Now is your girl thin, fat, tall short, ugly, cute? Hair color? Eye color? Preferred clothing styles? Is she a heel kind of person or a sneaker kind of person?"
Erik wanted to kill something.
Abigail was bored.
When she woke up, the Phantom was gone. At first she thought he was simply hiding from her, but after her fake falling and passing out, she concluded he was nowhere in the immediate area.
This brought on many ideas.
Should she escape now?
That idea was quickly shot down. She would drown before she figured some sort of way out of here. So she decided to search around for awhile. Within a few hours, she had the place pretty much mapped out in her head.
Abigail couldn't help but feel homesick, however. She missed her small apartment, her boring books, her own bed. She wanted to play on her piano again and listen to the notes echo off of her empty walls.
The thought of her piano ignited a deep thirst for music inside of her. She knew exactly where the organ was; how long it was, how tall. How much it would hurt if she stubbed her toe against it (her right big toe throbbed at the thought). Abigail desperately wanted to play it, but what if the Phantom returned while she was touching it? What would he do? If he had hit her when she simply spoke out, she could not imagine his punishment for touching the thing that has probably been keeping him sane down here. Or as close to sane as possible.
Abigail quickly settled herself down on a rock near the water. She kept her mind busy by throwing small pebbles into the water, listening to them hit the water farther and farther away. However, the splashes slowly began to sound more and more like notes, and her mind returned to music.
Fuck it.
Abigail tossed all reason to the wind, jumped up, and quickly made her way over to the organ. She paused as she carefully settled down onto the large, comfortable seat. After scooting the seat closer to the organ, she sat there for a moment, wondering what on earth to play. She rested her aching fingers, desperate for a song, on the keys and thought.
Abigail was trapped inside the underground lair of the Phantom of the Opera with no escape, nobody looking for her, and not a slight hint of kindness from the crazed man. Tears formed in her eyes. Nobody was looking for her…
She shoved herself away from the organ, collapsing on the ground as she let out a sob. Aimee was not looking for her… Doug did not care…
A horrid emotion rose up in her throat at the thought of Doug. Years of friendship and caring between them, and he did not even attempt to come to her in her time of need… She had considered him her best friend; how could she survive without him being there for her, not reading music to her? Her heart ached for him, for him to hold her as she cried. She held herself.
Abigail rapidly blinked her tears away. She knew what she would play.
Settling back on the organ, she ignored her tears as she began Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again from the movie.
The sad tune helped her relax. She softly hummed the melody under her breath to herself as she played the notes, not once breaking the rhythm, her knowledgeable hands gliding across the organ perfectly.
Her hums broke out into soft whispers after the first few lines as she drew herself into her own music, escaping the world around her.
Wishing you were somehow here again
Wishing you were somehow near
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed
Somehow you would be here
Another tear fell, tickling her cheek as it slowly swam down her face, mocking her realization that she did want Doug there with her.
Wishing I could hear your voice again
Knowing that I never would
Dreaming of you won't help me to do
All that you dreamed I could
She continued playing. Doug had always believed in her. He convinced her she was going to go somewhere someday, that once he could afford it, he was going to get her noticed by someone. She had been so thankful for his open promises at the time. She loved him for it. Her voice began to sound odd.
Passing bells and sculpted angels
Cold and monumental seem, for you the wrong companions
You were warm and gentle
He was warm and gentle. She kept her hands moving, not letting her shaking shoulders corrupt the song. She only managed to choke out a couple sentences going on, but she still heard the song through the music.
To many years fighting back tears
Why can't the past just die?
Wishing you were somehow here again
Knowing we must say, "Goodbye"
Try to forgive, teach me to live
Give me the strength to try
No more memories, no more silent tears
No more gazing across the wasted years
Help me say, "Goodbye"
Help me say, "Goodbye"
Abigail's hands gently swept across the keys, drawing out the last notes with a burdening sadness. Fear overcame her as the notes died, feeling as if Doug was leaving her with them.
"You never told me your name."
Abigail screamed, covering her head with her arms and jumping forward onto the organ; the large object made a scream of its own as she threw herself down upon it.
She felt a gloved hand wrap around her shoulder and wheel her around to face the man.
"Why are you so jumpy?" the Phantom yelled.
"Why do you sneak up on me?" she yelled back, shoving his hand off of her shoulder.
The hand lashed out, grabbing her by the jaw and forcing her back onto the organ. It let out a yell of protest as it's keys were yet again smashed down. Abigail grabbed onto the hand holding her down, gasping as the air was knocked out of her.
"Do not yell at me!" The Phantom yelled in her face. He did not let go of her despite her struggles and kicking. She missed him half the time.
Abigail felt him relax his grip slightly. She stopped kicking, but held onto his wrist, still afraid. Her cheek flinched as she felt him brush away dried tears. She sniffed.
"Abigail." She said, barely an audible whisper.
A couple moments past between them before he finally released her.
"I bought you some things." He called as Abigail heard him walk away.
She rubbed her jaw.
"I'm not entirely familiar with… Female clothing…"
Abigail whimpered.
"So I had someone else do it for me."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Aimee had bought her clothes for her. Before she had been trapped down here, that is.
"Thank you." She said, "You wouldn't mind telling me what they look like would you?"
"They're girly."
Abigail frowned, not amused, "No. I mean, so I know what to wear with what."
She heard a long, drawn out sigh from where he was standing, near the water she assumed. Abigail was slowly piecing this place together. She now knew that whenever he came to and from this place, he used some sort of transportation across the water.
"There is quite a lot here."
"Well, what else did you buy?" she asked curiously, making her way over to him. Abigail found it odd how curious she was. She did not like the idea of setting up a life down here. Why would she want to make it seem even more permanent with new things? New stuff meant a new life in her mind.
But her girly side couldn't help but get excited at the idea of freshly bought clothes.
"Hygiene products. Utensils. Things of that sort." He said nonchalantly. Abigail felt relieved. If she was going to stay here, even for a little bit, she needed things to eat on. And some deodorant.
"Why didn't you have them before?" she asked, curious as she listened to him line up things on the table.
"I had no need of them." He stated without emotion.
"You didn't eat?"
"No, I simply did not need them when I ate."
"What do you eat?"
"Why do you have so many questions?" he hissed. She heard him stop when he became annoyed.
"Sorry." She muttered, inching toward where she believed the other bags were.
"Why are you—"
Abigail slipped on the unstable rocks and fell into the freezing water.
Panic and fear swarmed her mind as she thrashed about, legs kicking wildly as she breathed in the lake water. Her lungs burned. She seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into the dark abyss; she had no idea where to go, which direction was up or down. She felt as though she were going to die; tears gushed out of her eyes and disappeared into the darkness. She had wanted to do so much more with her life. She wanted to go back home and be safe in her own bed where there was no Phantom, no new clothes, nothing but herself and her piano.
Maybe dying wouldn't be that bad. If it was away from here, it must be good. She felt awkward and hopeless here. Maybe she intentionally pushed herself into the water.
She thanked herself.
Abigail imagined that wherever she would go, she would be safe. It would be bright; she wouldn't be consumed in this constant night, this intense darkness surrounding her. She might be able to see notes for the very first time. She would read something with her eyes, not her hands.
She could look at herself, maybe; see what others saw when they looked at her. Abigail wondered if she was pretty. She hoped so; she couldn't remember if she looked pretty when she was younger. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember seeing that much at all.
She distantly remembered what fire looked like. A bright white light came to mind as well.
Strong arms. Solid chest. Rushing water. Burst of air.
Abigail hoped the Phantom would just let her die. She longed for death now; she could almost feel its embrace. The cold was stripped from her; she felt her chest thudding.
Abigail was happy, so happy she wanted to sing out in joy. She felt her mouth open, ready for a song. She waited. Nothing came from her lips.
Swooooossshhhh
More thuds.
Swooooossshhhh
Thuds.
Abigail felt funny. Her head began to spin. She wanted to be sick.
She turned her head to the side, coughed up a gallon of water, and passed out.
Poor Abigail, almost drowning in the water ):
So many emotions going around... I enjoy writing the small snippets at the top of each chapter (they relate to the chapter if you haven't caught on). I think they add more of a mature tone to the story :P
Make sure to REVIEW! It helps me out a lot! I am sad when people favorite/alert and don't leave a review ;_;