The History of the Phantom

Secrets

I walked back to Gustave's house in a brisk pace. I swung the door open and slammed it shut right behind me. As I buried my face in my hands, the encounter with Philippe replayed in my head.

"What did I do?" I muttered to myself. I knew that the whole thing wasn't over. I knew terrible karma was in store for me in the future. Was it going to come sooner or later? I didn't know. That was the thing that killed me. I had no idea when the karma would come. All I knew that it was going to be bad. Morbidly bad.

I heard Gustave run to the front door. Oh crap. I never told him I left the house. I forgot he didn't know where I was. As I peeked up at him, removing my palms from my eyes, I silently gulped some saliva down my throat.

"Where were you?" He asked nervously. He looked at me with worry in his eyes. I could tell by his expression, I was gone for a while.

"I'm sorry... I was... Out in the city," I stuttered. I didn't know what to tell him. I sure as heck didn't want to lie to him, but at the same time, I couldn't tell him about Philippe.

"You're ok then?" His voice was full of caution.

"Yeah totally," I lied. He took a breath of relief, but the perplexed expression still remained on his face.

"What were you up to?"

"Um. I just wanted some fresh air. The city is really nice in the evening. It's very comforting."

I casually walked into the living room and sat on the couch. I tried to hide my shaking hands under the table. So far, I hadn't gotten a chance to falsely explain something. This made me at least a little relieved.

"How long ago did you realize I was out?" I asked.

"About forty minutes ago."

"Oh." I kept him hanging for that long? Jesus, I felt so insensitive.

"I thought you were dead," Gustave whispered solemnly.

Before I could say anything, I heard Christine crying from upstairs. I watched him head up to her room with his eyes still glued on me.

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised.

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It wasn't until the next day when I heard a knock on the front door. When I opened it, my jaw dropped like a hundred bricks. My eyes enlarged as big as apples. What stood before me was purely unbelievable.

There was a man who was almost identical to my father. He had the exact same features. The chiseled jaw, the pale skin with a slight rose color, the brown eyes. Everything except for the hair. My dad's hair was black while this guy's was brown.

"Um. Hi," I whispered dumbfounded.

"Are you the one who pushed my son into a car?" The man snapped. This man must be Philippe's father. The one question is, why does he look like my dad?

"Um." A huge wave of anxiety washed over me and cut off my voice. I looked at the guy scolding down at me.

"I'm Philbert de Chagny, and I believe you pushed Philippe. He's my son," he said coldly. Philbert? Where do I know that name? It sounds strangely familiar.

"Have we met before?" I asked when my confusion overpowered my fear.

"No we haven't. That is not why I came here." His voice was rising.

"I'm sorry. It's just that your name is familiar. You also look like someone who I know."

"That would be my brother," he murmured. "He's Gerard Destler. The guy my parents wished I was. I'm sure you know of him and his success." Mr. Destler of course! He's the doctor that is very well known in the city. He's the one who delivered Christine... Wait a minute.

"I changed my last name due to the disappointment my parents had on me. I couldn't share the same surname with people who barely cared about me. However, I'm sure lots of people know I'm Mr. Destler's brother. That's probably why you know my name."

This man is my uncle. He is also Philippe's dad. Does that mean Philippe is my cousin?

"Um-I'm sorry. I didn't-mean to hurt anyone." My voice was rising and descending like crazy. I shut the door with my mouth still slightly gaped. I turned around and saw Gustave ten feet behind me. He was listening with ears full open.