Chapter 5

The next time I woke up, I was still in the hospital, but Monsieur Destler was nowhere in sight. Thinking at he was in the bathroom, I called out his name,

"Monsieur Destler?"

The bathroom door swung open, but it wasn't Monsieur Destler who emerged. It was Mr. Buquet, the school principal.

Buquet was the most evil principal that ever set foot into our school. He came to our school the year before Monsieur Destler did. He was about 35 and he had short dark brown hair, brown eyes, with a perfectly chisled face. He came with us on the school trip to make sure that we wouldn't get out of hand, although Monsieur Destler could've handled us alone. We were only seniors. How bad could we possibly be?

"Mr. Buquet. What are you doing here?"

"Monsieur Destler called me after the accident. I got here as fast as I could."

"Then...where is Monsieur Destler?"

"Back at the hotel with the rest of the students."

"And Drake?"

"Why all of the questions, Sophia," he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No reason," I lied shakily. "They were here when I fell asleep, that's all."

There was a reason. Buquet was a creep; always has been and always will be. There were rumors floating around that he had hidden cameras in the girls locker room and he watching all of the girls change and shower. Whether it was true or not, I didn't know, but I knew that I didn't like being alone with him.

"They are all back at the hotel, resting," he said, slipping his hand underneath the covers of my bed, close to my leg.

I swallowed hard, really feeling uncomfortable. I tried to move, but I couldn't without feeling any pain. Without warning, I felt something. It was his hand and it was creeping up my leg.

"What...what are you doing?"

"Hush, Sophia," he whispered, sitting down on the edge of my bed, his hand creeping up past my knee and onto my thigh.

"Mr. Buquet...what are you doing? Stop..."

"No one will know," he said, looking into my eyes, feeling my gown ride up to my stomach. "That is...if you don't tell anyone."

"What if I do," I said harshly, glaring at him.

He looked at me coldly, then I felt something being shoved inside of me: his fingers.

I whimpered, my hands gripping the mattress as I squeezed my eyes shut, his fingers moving roughly in and out.

"You wouldn't want your precious music teacher to lose his job, would you?"

"You...you can't do that," I said, tears steaming down my face as I felt another finger slip into my secrets.

"But I can, Sophia. All I have to say is that I walked in on you two, in this very hospital room and you two were doing more than what I'm doing to you now. He would lose his job and you would lose that scholarship you have to Juliard."

"No," I cried, shaking my head, laying back onto the bed as he continued.

"So we have a deal? You let me do this from time to time and Destler keeps his job?"

"You're a monster..."

"No..." he said, withdrawing his fingers, wiping them clean on the bed sheet, standing up. "You're music teacher is the monster. So...what will it be, Sophia? Me...or the monster? You choose me...he keeps his job. You choose him...well...the scholarship will be gone and so will your teacher."

My silence was my answer, knowing that I was powerless to do anything about it. I fought back my tears as I turned my head away from him, a look of submission on my face.

"Good girl," he said, grinning evilly. Without another word, he left, as if nothing had happened at all.

I laid in bed, silent and disgusted. First the dreams, now this? What was to become of me?

The next morning, I was still awake, my face red and blotchy from crying all night. Neither Drake, Monsieur Destler or Buquet came back that night. All I wanted to do was go home, or just be held by someone who cared about me as much as Drake did. I began to think about Christine and the Phantom. He treated her so well. Would they end up together? What of Raoul? What would happen to him? Then another question came to mind. What did all of these dreams mean? Why was I having them? Should I tell people about them? The only people that I could really trust would be Monsieur Destler and Drake, but Monsieur Destler would probably think that I was in love with him if I told him, and Drake would think that I'm cheating on him if I told him instead. What of the situation with Buquet? There had to be a way that I could get out of it. If only I could bring the Phantom of the Opera back to protect me, just as he was doing for Christine. Maybe...maybe my Phantom was just right in front of me, and I just didn't want him to know.

Just then, the door opened and Drake walked in, smiling at me. I smiled back, sitting up some.

"Are you all right," he asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Rough night," I replied, simply, kissing him sweetly. "How is everyone?"

"Worried about you. We heard that Buquet the Perv was here last night."

"Yeah, he was. The doctors wanted an adult to sit with me durning the night, just in case something were to happen."

"I don't think anymore bad things could happen to you now, Sophie. You survived a chandiler falling on you. I think you'll be okay now."

"Yeah...Drake, there's something I should tell you."

"What is it, Sophie?"

I took a breath, taking his hand and looking at him firmly. "I'm having dreams about Christine Daae. In the dreams, I'm her. You were in them. In the dreams, you're Raoul de Changy, a Vicomte, but there's someone else in the dreams that Christine seems to be torn between."

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "And...who is this other person, Sophia?"

I bit my lip slightly. "Uh...The Phantom of the Opera."

"Who is the Phantom in your dreams?"

"Monsieur Destler."

His mouth fell open slightly as he dropped my hand, looking down at the floor.

"It doesn't mean anything, Drake," I said, trying to take his hand again, but he pulled it away.

"I knew that there was something going on between you."

"What? Drake, what are you saying?"

"You like Monsieur Destler!"

"Drake, how can you say that? I love you, not him!"

For some reason, that statement tasted a lie, but I had no idea why.

"When you can prove that to me, come find me," he said, storming out the door.

"Drake, wait," I yelled, but it was no use.

He was gone.

I fell back onto the bed, sighing deeply.

In the story that Drake had told me the day before, Christine ends up with Raoul, so why was he being so damn pigheaded and jealous? If the dreams were playing out was going to happen in my life, then why did he run off like he did? Although...Monsieur Destler did always treat me kindly and always told me the truth when I asked him a serious question. Drake would blow it off and change the subject. Could Christine have made the wrong choice in the past? Maybe she was destined for the Phantom after all. Did it mean that I was too?