The Beauty Underneath ● The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 7

◌The Twin◌

Mother lay in bed, exhausted from the day's activity. The doctor had come early this morning to look over her. He said it was a mixture of dehydration, the common cold, and old age. It burned me to think of my mother as old. Of her getting closer and closer to that infinite, never waking sleep. But she didn't seem to let it bother her.

She had insisted that she felt fine and we were to look for Melodie at once. While Gustave and I searched further away from home, mother and father searched closer. Melodie was nowhere to be found. Again. How were we ever going to find her again when she obviously didn't want to be found?

I wanted to hate my father for driving her away, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Mother's recent doctor's visit shook me to the reality that is time and how little we have. So no, I wouldn't hate my father. I'll only be slightly annoyed. And why should I give him any more grief? He is already doing a fine job of it on his own. Mother ran a hand over my cheek. "She'll be back when she's ready." I took her hand in my own.

"What if she doesn't? She had this look in her eyes...A look I had never seen in her before. It was dangerous--it scared me." She squeezed my hand.

"Your father used to get that way, back when we were young and had all the time in the world to fight and bicker." Back when he was The Phantom. Mother and father had never wanted us to know the truth about their pasts. But while we were visiting Pairs; Gustave, Melodie, and I had been messing around in the rebuilt opera house mother used to sing at when she was younger, when we came across an interesting story. A story of a man obsessed with a woman. A man who was so in love with this woman he was willing to do anything to have her love him the same. Even if that meant murder.

Mother had had to calm us all down before we returned home. She didn't want father to know we knew. "It would crush him", she had said. She had reminded us of all the good our father had done. Of how much he loved us. She said he loved us so much he was willing to change his ways. So, then we returned home like nothing had ever happened.

"She's too much like her father. That's why they bicker. Too much alike." Mother patted my cheek softly. "She'll be back." I wished I could believe her.