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Note: I do not own Phantom of the Opera.
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What?
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For about a week after that incident in the park and Joseph's threat of revenge, I would look over my shoulders constantly and every small shadow made me jump. I was very skittish and unable to concentrate properly.
Nearly two months have now passed and so far, no misfortunes have befallen me. However, I am still very watchful.
Two months is also how long Monsieur E. and I have been exchanging correspondence.
We exchange letters every other day.
I must admit, the best part of my day is to my room, wondering if a red rose and a letter will be waiting on my bed, ready to be ripped open and read with all the happiness a lonely girl could have.
Those letters have almost become my lifeline, my escape from loneliness, from a cold inhumane world.
The writer, Monsieur E, fascinates me. There is so much depth to him, he is not like some I have known, those who are shallow and lacking any true reason for living. No, he is not like that, there are so many sides to him.
I have not yet been able to figure him out. He mystifies me and brushes off any of my attempts to find out about him personally.
Sometimes his letters are a bit childish and he seems almost too eager for approval, then at other times, his letters appear to contain the wisdom of a man who has lived for a very long time, who has known and seen many things.
I have also noticed that sometimes his letters are sad and full of vehemence. That leads me to believe he has known great sorrow and pain, rejection and hatred, and briefly love.
In many ways, we feel the same. We have both known sadness and pain, misery and cruelness, rejection.
I have a great desire to see the man who is now my friend, though he refuses to make himself known.
Smiling, I reach up and lovingly finger the locket Monsieur E given me.
It is gold with a cluster of roses engraved on the front, and a single rose on the back.
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I become aware of someone standing over me. I look up from my work of scrubbing the floors, to see Madame Bourg's cold grey eyes glaring down at me.
"Get up, girl".
I rise quickly; it is then that I notice someone is standing beside her.
It is a young girl, about twelve or thirteen. She was very small and slender, her hair is raven black, her large eyes are an unusual golden color, her small oval face is scattered with freckles, and there is a raised scar on her left cheek. Her clothing is practically rags.
"Come her child". Madame Bourg grabs the girl by the shoulder and pushes her forward.
"Tell her your name". She orders.
The girl takes a hesitant step towards me and holds out one small, pale hand.
"I'm Anna". She smiles slightly. Her voice sounds very womanly and pretty, not what I would have expected to come from such a small creature.
I take the little hand in mine, her grip is very strong. "Hi Anna, I'm Darcy.
"She will be your protégé. You will teach her everything she needs to know about cleaning. You will no longer occupy your old room, and will be moving into a room upstairs that you will share with the girl."
I nod my head, even though I really do not want to share a room with anyone.
Now I will have almost no privacy and her presence would really complicate things, especially with Monsieur E.
I glance over at Anne, who is busy studying her hands.
Poor child, I wonder where her parents are? Why is she here, working?
"Anna, have you any luggage?"
"It has already been taken upstairs, mademoiselle."
"Please, just call me Darcy." I smile brightly at her.
She looks relieved and returns the smile, which makes her look very pretty.
"We will have to get you fitted for a uniform. I think you will be the smallest maid here", I laugh.
She hunches back her small shoulders and laughs too.
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Finally, with Anna's help, I have gotten all my stuff moved into our new room.
The room is just big enough for the two of us to fit in comfortably.
Our beds are positioned opposite each other, with a small wooden nightstand between them. There is a large framed mirror on the opposite wall and the washbasins are on each side of it. The room has no windows; the walls are an ugly brown color.
I turn my attention to the little frail-looking girl on the other bed. I am extremely curious as to why she is here, and why has she been assigned work as a maid. She is only a child.
I will not, though, pry into her life; I know how it feels to have noisy people question you. I will just stick to the basics.
"Anna, how old are you?
"Thirteen. How old are you"?
"Nineteen."
I try to think of a tactful way to ask about her parents, perhaps I should just leave that alone, it may bring back unpleasant memories, for obviously something must have happened to them.
"You are really young, I mean to be working as a maid."
Anna laughs nervously.
"I came here looking for work, and the manger said the only job available was to be a maid."
I nod my head in understanding.
Glancing around my new room again, I notice all the candles Anna has lit.
"Anna, why so many candles? Are you afraid of the dark?"
"No. I just like the way candles make things look. They can deceive the eye and play tricks on the imagination." Anna says, her eyes wide and bright in the candle glow.
I look at Anna, not knowing what to think about what she has just said. However I continue to make like conversation with her.
"What do you like to do, Anna?"
"I like to play my violin and sing." she sighs deeply; "Do you play or sing?"
"No. I wish I could though. Would you sing for me a little?"
Anna eagerly jumps up. "Oh Yes! She breathes excitedly. Anna walks over to the mirror and stands in front of it, then she starts to sing.
Anna's singing is very beautiful. Her voice sounds almost unearthly.
watch this strange girl in fascination and admiration.
When she finishes, I clap heartily. "Anna, that was so beautiful and moving. Where did you learn to sing like that?"
Anna blushes. "I have always been able to sing, but my father and stepmother would get very angry when I did. My stepmother says that my singing scares her, because she has never heard a child sing like that before, and that I must be possessed. Oh, but I am truly glad you like it".
She walks over and puts her arm around my shoulders "I just know we are going to be very good friends, Darcy".
Looking up into those golden eyes, I know that what she says is true, we will be very good friends.
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Go ahead and speculate about Anna. You will have to wait to find out more about her.
Let me know what you think of this chapter, even if it is a little short. Is it too cheesy? Not detailed enough?
Does Anna sound like a Mary Sue?
Let me know. Review! Review! Review!