Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Twelve.

CHRISTINE:

My blood was racing so fast and my heart wouldn't stop thudding. I had to get dressed for the rest of the opera, but I couldn't stop thinking of my angel. The angel would be so proud of me tonight and I wanted more than anything to be praised. There was gentle knock on my dressing room door and I let in Madame Giry, who held a rose in her hand, "Congratulations, my dear," I accepted the flower from her and she nodded, "he was very pleased."

She gave me a note and I instantly knew who he was... the phantom of the opera. He watched my performance and now I had a review directly from him. How very frightening. And on top of that, there was quite a commotion outside of my door, "Please, I must see her!"

"She has to get changed."

I set down the flower and note before quickly removing my village gown and putting on my dressing robe, "Surely there will be enough time. I only want to speak briefly."

I went to the door and tapped Madame on the shoulder, "Let him in. I can get dressed in five minutes."

"Suit yourself."

The gentleman I let in had familiar blue eyes and sandy locks. He had a pencil thin moustache as well and smiled brightly at seeing me. There was something so familiar about him, something that brought me home, "Do I know you, Monsieur?"

"You have already forgotten?" he said handing me a bouquet of pink roses.

"I don't recall much of my childhood. Other than my poor father."

"Surely you do remember," I smiled and set the bouquet of flowers on the empty pillar that stood beside the mirror, "I was the little boy who ran into the sea to fetch your scarf. When I came out, I was soaked to the bone and you gave me your warmth."

Not often had I recalled the memory of the young lad who fetched my scarf and I was having so much trouble recalling his name. He smiled with a shake of his head, "My brother's name is Philippe. Your father was Gustav Daaé."

I smiled in remembrance of him and found a letter that made sense. R... Raoul, "Raoul? Oh, it is you!"

He heartily laughed when I pulled him in my embrace and I found myself so happy at that moment. He must have been another suitor, but why? Why would anyone remember me for that long and then come back, "You returned. But why?"

"I am a commander in the navy, Christine. I am allowed time off this month to visit family, but as you know the only family I have is Philippe and my two sisters who are married off. I didn't really expect to see you tonight, but you were amazing. I'm sure Paris will swoon at your feet."

He gently kissed my forehead and I felt a strange, powerful energy. I didn't know what to think or what it could have been, but I had an inclination it was either my angel or the dreaded phantom. I pushed Raoul away and went through my closet for my city gown, "Please leave. I have to get dressed for the final act."

RAOUL:

I awaited in box three for the finale of Faust. She was quite wonderful in the love duet between Faust and Marguerite, but the church scene was something else. Her voice was seraphic and made me desire nothing more than to be in her arms. She was still unearthly beautiful, just like I remember her and now that she was finally a woman, we could fulfill our childhood wishes.

The end of the opera was gorgeous and there was thunderous applause from everyone, even my brother, "Be careful, Raoul," he whispered, "I have heard rumors about a man's voice. No one knows who it is, but you could be playing a dangerous game."

"It's Christine," I laughed, patting my older brother on the shoulder, "The most innocent, wholesome woman on this planet and you speak of men's voices in her dressing room? What an insult."

I stood from the seat and Philippe grabbed my wrist, standing beside me, "I mean it, Raoul. There is a phantom here. Who knows what could be going on in that poor girl's room?"

I nodded and exited the box. The only way to be certain was to go there myself. However, before I could even get backstage, I was stopped by a man in Persian robes. He stared at me briefly before going on, "Your brother is right, Monsieur. You have much to fear around this place. Especially when it comes to the ghost."

All the talk of this ghost was unsettling. I didn't know how to respond to this drama, seeing the last time I saw an opera I was just a child, "You too, Monsieur? Are you sure this ghost isn't just a figment of imagination?"

"The last time someone said something like that, they never came back to the opera."

I became silent, not sure if that was a joke or the gentleman was very serious. Judging by his face, the latter was probably true, "I apologize, then. Would it be safe to visit her?"

With a sigh, he shook his head, "If you must. But I do warn you, Monsieur."

Heeding his warning, I went to the backstage area with that in mind. I stopped at her door and indeed heard a man's voice, "You were wonderful tonight, my dear."

"Thank you, maestro. I am more than grateful."

"It is I who should be grateful, my child. You were a great triumph. The angels wept tonight."

Against my best judgment, I knocked on the door and called for her, "Christine?"