Family Secrets (A Phantom of the Opera Fan Fiction)

Chapter 2

"Aria, Hurry up, we are going to be late!" My mother called up the stairs.

"Coming, Mama!" I shouted back, as I slipped the dimond earing into my left ear, and gave my face some final touch ups before heading down the stairs to meet my parents for church. 

"Are you ready, my angel?" My father asked as he gave my cheek a peck.

"Yes, papa! Shall we go?"

We stepped out of the large archway of our, as I call it, gingerbread style house, and started toward the car. I climbed into the back seat, which might I add, was all to my self, the way I liked it. I never really enjoyed church the way mama or papa did, I just thought that it was a nice place for me to orginize my thoughts once a week. Today, I started thinking of how my situation had changed these three years, scince i was twelve years old. I havent sung at all in at least two years and was slowly dieing inside, which i managed to hide well, scince mama or papa hadn't noticed that every night i spent it crying myself to sleep. Scince papa's speech to me about "The Man", i sang scarcly at all, but just enough to keep me sane, but after a while, I noticed that mama was happier when i wasen't singing. I couldn't bare to see her so sad, when what I wanted to do when i sang was to make peoples spirits soar, but if i couldn't even do that with my mother, what hope did i have with the rest of the world. I remembered what my father said to me about having my grandmothers voice. Why did he just try to comfort me after scaring me so, and with those lies that would make me want to make my voice soar above anything else. He ruined my dreams, he lied to me, and I wanted nothing to do with him and his talk of "The Man" who stole away my aunt or neice or who ever she was. Truly, I have started to think that that was all a very tale tale that father told me just to explain his lack of a mother and father and mothers absolute hatred and fear of my voice. The last two years, i have stopped singing all together, and speak in short, sharp sentences, when I have the chance, mostly loosing myself intomy novels so I could escape the cruel world and its cold lies.

We got to chruch much earlier than I would have hoped. We settled down in our pew, and while my mama and papa settled down into their silent prayer, i setttled into my own thoughts.

When the first chant started, I stood, but did not reach for the book of songs and look for the song, i just closed my eyes and listened to my fathers beautifuly gentle, yet forceful tenor booming above all the rest. No matter how much a resented my father for lieing to me about my voice, i could never stop being jealous of his magnificent voice.

At length I felt a rough finger brush something wet from my cheek. I opened my eyes and realized that it was my father brushing a tear from my cheek. He looked into my teary eyes, his eyes asking me "What is the matter my, Angel? Please, don't shut me out again!" It was all i could do not to grab him and have him hold me like when i was younger, but i just looked away. I couldn't succumb to my child-like needs to be held like a baby again.

We sat down and the pastor started to drone on through the mass while I lost my self, once again, in my thoungts.

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As we started out the doors of the chapel, our pastor, Father Lawrence, stopped us to speak with my father and mother. I stood to the side politly while the Priest continued to speak to my parents about the weather, but before i could loose my self again, one of my mothers friends, Signora Caccietore scampered up to me.

"Oh, Aria, how long I haven't seen you!" She exclaimed, kissing me on both cheeks.

 "Good Morning, Signora Caccietore" I said with a tight smile