Of Phantoms and Angels

III. Ghost Stories

     Lilienne sat cross-legged on her bed in her night dress, her book in her lap, a couple of candles to chase away the dark night outside. Two of the girls she shared the room with sat on their own beds, also in their sleep wear, giggling in that nervous yet excited way.

     "Can you believe what happened today?" Minet, the girl in the bed across from Lilienne, asked the third girl, Pauline.

     "No! I can't believe it was actually him! Right above us!"

     "He tried to kill the Prima Donna..."

     "Do you think he'll try again?"

     They laughed and giggled and shrieked with fear and thrill over the ghostly man who they believe to have attended the rehearsal today. Lilienne sighed, audibly, but they took no notice- she'd never taken to superstition.

     "Maybe he'll come right to the dormitories to try again." Minet suggested, casing Pauline's eyes to widen, "Can you believe we were so close to the Phantom of the Opera?"

     "No! It was terrifying!"

     "What do you think, Lili? Where you scared?"

     Her neck snapped up as Minet spoke her shortened name. She sat, eyes wide, choking on her words.

     "Well, I guess I just don't believe in ghosts..."

     The other girls just laughed at her. In years of being at the Paris Opera, she had heard many a ghost story about the Phantom of the Opera. They were intriguing, but that was all. Lilienne had never found anything to be afraid of. After all, what was there to fear about a man who hid in the shadows? People always got themselves in a tizzy when he made a ruckus, but in Lilienne's opinion, they were all overreactions.

     There were several more minutes of Minet's and Pauline's giddy chat, interrupted when the fourth and final girl who shared the room came in- Camille. She was, as usual, accompanied by a boy, and tonight her victim was Léo Jacques, who worked as a set constructor. Each girl in the room knew what this meant; Camille brought a new boy back to her room every other night, and when she'd run out of new boys, she reused her old favourites, and they all took turns.

      Minet and Pauline scrambled from their beds, giggling furiously, but Lilienne moved much more slowly. She closed her book and seized her robe from a hook above her bed, tying it about herself before leaving into the dim corridor. She saw Minet and Pauline duck into Amie's room, who was a close friend of theirs, but Lilienne walked the other way. She walked silently en pointe, slipping into the kitchen- empty, now, near midnight. Lilienne filled a basin with water and lit the stove.

     She was careful to cover her tracks, not wishing anyone to know of this secret pastime of hers. She lugged the basin of hot water up a set of disused stairs, along with a second basin of cool water. She hauled them all the way to the very top of the opera house, to the roof.

     Finally tucked away from prying eyes, Lilienne heaved a sigh of relief, placing the water basins down. She pulled a metal tub out from behind a pillar- the case of the missing wash basin. It had been hilarious to watch them run about, all in a fuss over this simple item. They'd blamed it on the Phantom.

      She removed a robe from the tub, kept there as always for after, and replaced it with both basins of water. Then, slipping her loose night dress from her body, she sunk into the warm water and tied her light blondish brown hair up in a knot with a ribbon. Lilienne sat back, immersed in the water to her shoulders, looking out over Paris.

     The city was beautiful- probably the most beautiful city on God's Earth, in Lilienne's opinion. It sat in the crisp of early winter, glowing so brightly through the night that she hadn't needed a candle. Her breath looked like a small cloud when she breathed, floating up to vanish into the night sky. But she didn't feel the chill within the warm water. 

     This was a savoury event for Lilienne, reserved for only the times when she deserved it- this being the final rehearsal, Lilienne thought she had. She sat in the warmth, watching Paris shine from above, completely and utterly alone. It was a feeling of power, to be able to look upon the whole city while no one could see her. She had many secluded hiding places, but this was her favourite of all.

     As she soaked in the warm water, she reached a hand up to touch something that glinted in the dark, the light of Paris igniting the gold- it was a locket that hung around her neck and fell against her breastbone. It had been a wedding gift from her father to her mother, and inside were two pictures, one of each of them; Lilienne had always marveled at the looks of pure and innocent happiness- they were young and in love, and all the troubles in the world didn't so much as turn their heads; the same expression she had watched on their sleeping faces on the night she left. How the times had changed. Lilienne had taken it that night and had worn it ever since, as a reminder of why she was here.

     She stayed this way for several hours, it seemed to her, and as the water began to cool in the winter's night, she stepped from the tub and wrapped her robe about her body. Then, as quietly as possible, she slipped back into the opera house.

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