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Death Awakens
folder
M through R › Phantom of the Opera
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
4,089
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Phantom of the Opera
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
4,089
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera movie(s), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Dreams Gone
Disclaimer: Erik does not belong to me.
Chapter 2:
“Once again, ladies! From the top!”
Lila and Valerie were standing in the middle of the stage. Valerie was the beautiful soprano that had been chosen to play Christine. She was gentle and sweet, always holding Lila by the hand for emotional and physical support.
“Where in the world have you been hiding? Really you were perfect. I only wish I knew your secret. Who is this new tutor?”
“Father once spoke of an angel, I used to dream he’d appear. Now as I sing I can sense him and I know he’s here.”
“No, Valerie, open your mouth rounder. You’re swallowing your words.” Walter came on to the stage and pulled gently at Valerie’s jaw. “Keep it here, so we can hear your beautiful voice.”
Valerie squeezed Lila’s hand in apology, and she smiled back.
“Okay, let’s try it one more time from the top, and we’ll call it a day.”
The music started again and the two ladies sang through their duet before the director stopped them.
Walter beamed at them, a hand ruffling the gray hair on his head. “That was perfect, you two. Very good job.” The girls smiled at the compliment, squeezing each others hands. “I’m giving you the rest of the day off to rest your voices. I’ll see you tomorrow with the rest of the chorus.”
The two girls made their way off the stage, and out of the opera house. It was fitting that the anniversary premiere of the musical was being held in the very opera house where the story took place. Lila shivered with delight whenever she walked onto the stage, marveling at the luxurious building in all its gold, velvet, marbled glory.
“Do you want me to wait for you?” Valerie asked, startling Lila out of her reverie.
Lila shook her head and smiled. “No, don’t want to hold you up. I’m just going to go explore the city.”
“Okay, be safe. I’ll see you later.”
Lila sighed and slowly walked down the plush carpeted staircase, absently running a finger along the cool marble of the banisters.
“Lila!” a voice called from behind her. She turned and waited as a woman caught up to her. She puffed a little from the exertion, a tape measure flying out like a banner behind her.
“I know you have the day off, darling, but I just finished your costume, and I wanted you to see it first,” the lady finally said after catching her breath.
“Oh Mrs. Pierot! I would love to see it!” Lila exclaimed, hugging the woman in her excitement.
Mrs. Pierot beamed, and lead Lila to a room filled with mannequins dressed in pieces of cloth, some stitched together, others held on by needles.
“I did your costume first because it is so special,” the woman replied, pulling a long gown from a rack in the back of the room.
Lila gasped when she saw it, squealing like a little girl as she touched the beautiful dress. It was pale pink, so pale it looked white in the dim room, but shone a rosy hue as Lila held it under the overhead lamp. Low in bodice with delicate straps of pink pearls, it was feminine and delicate but modest enough to demonstrate the innocence of her character. Instead of the customary tulle the other ballerinas would wear, her skirt flowed freely in layers of soft cloth. The hemline angled to rise high on the hip of her good leg, and long to mid-calf and ankle on her bad leg. It would hide her limp, but flatter the rest of her figure.
“May I try it on?” Lila pleaded. Mrs Pierot smiled again and winked.
“This one is yours, my dear.” She reached into the rack of costumes again and pulled out an identical dress. “I made two, one for you, and one for the play. But don’t tell Walter, or he’ll have my head.”
The two women giggled, and Lila rushed to behind the dressing screen to try on her new costume.
She came out hesitantly, hands demurely behind her back, looking down at her toes.
“You look beautiful, Lila,” Mrs. Pierot exclaimed as she turned Lila around. “You could wear this outside and no one would know the difference. You make the dress your own.”
Lila clapped her hand and kissed the woman on the cheek. “Merci one hundred thousand times, Mrs. Pierot, merci! I shall wear it out tonight.” The young woman grabbed her bag and put the rest of her clothes in it, and then she walked as fast as she could outside to catch the nearest taxi.
Twenty minutes later, Lila was seated primly in the back of a taxi, fingering the pink cloth of her skirt with a smile on her face. People had stared as she walked by, and no one had seemed to notice her limp. Everything was going perfectly, as if in a dream. The play was progressing ahead of schedule, her voice sounded better than ever, and this new dress, this new dress made her feel beautiful.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the driver run the traffic light into oncoming traffic. She didn’t notice the large truck that came barreling towards their compact car. She only noticed the blaring of the horn that caused her to snap her head just in time to see the truck slam into the passenger side of the car.
Witnesses said it was a miracle anyone was still alive. The truck had nearly split the taxi cab in two. The driver was killed after the car flipped the second time. His neck snapped as he landed heavily against the ground. Lila had faired better, though by very little. The truck had hit the side she was sitting on, forcing her towards the center of the car. The crumpled aluminum body created a sort of cocoon as the momentum of the collision buffeted her around. Everything had gone black the instant the truck had hit the car. Perhaps she had fainted, or been knocked unconscious. Whatever the cause, she had yet to wake up.
The hospital had called her mother out of her business trip. They told the hysterical woman that her daughter was in a coma. She had flown straight to Paris, and never left her daughter’s side, hoping against hope that Lila would wake up. The directors of the show had delayed rehearsal, but “the show must go on,” they had said and cast someone else as Meg.
Perhaps it was best that Lila was unconscious for that decision. It would’ve broken her heart.
It would seem that our story ended here, my friends, if not for the fact that Lila is not dead. No, in fact she was raging against the catatonic stupor that her weak physical body was in. Her spirit struggling with all its might to let someone, anyone know she was still there.
Chapter 2:
“Once again, ladies! From the top!”
Lila and Valerie were standing in the middle of the stage. Valerie was the beautiful soprano that had been chosen to play Christine. She was gentle and sweet, always holding Lila by the hand for emotional and physical support.
“Where in the world have you been hiding? Really you were perfect. I only wish I knew your secret. Who is this new tutor?”
“Father once spoke of an angel, I used to dream he’d appear. Now as I sing I can sense him and I know he’s here.”
“No, Valerie, open your mouth rounder. You’re swallowing your words.” Walter came on to the stage and pulled gently at Valerie’s jaw. “Keep it here, so we can hear your beautiful voice.”
Valerie squeezed Lila’s hand in apology, and she smiled back.
“Okay, let’s try it one more time from the top, and we’ll call it a day.”
The music started again and the two ladies sang through their duet before the director stopped them.
Walter beamed at them, a hand ruffling the gray hair on his head. “That was perfect, you two. Very good job.” The girls smiled at the compliment, squeezing each others hands. “I’m giving you the rest of the day off to rest your voices. I’ll see you tomorrow with the rest of the chorus.”
The two girls made their way off the stage, and out of the opera house. It was fitting that the anniversary premiere of the musical was being held in the very opera house where the story took place. Lila shivered with delight whenever she walked onto the stage, marveling at the luxurious building in all its gold, velvet, marbled glory.
“Do you want me to wait for you?” Valerie asked, startling Lila out of her reverie.
Lila shook her head and smiled. “No, don’t want to hold you up. I’m just going to go explore the city.”
“Okay, be safe. I’ll see you later.”
Lila sighed and slowly walked down the plush carpeted staircase, absently running a finger along the cool marble of the banisters.
“Lila!” a voice called from behind her. She turned and waited as a woman caught up to her. She puffed a little from the exertion, a tape measure flying out like a banner behind her.
“I know you have the day off, darling, but I just finished your costume, and I wanted you to see it first,” the lady finally said after catching her breath.
“Oh Mrs. Pierot! I would love to see it!” Lila exclaimed, hugging the woman in her excitement.
Mrs. Pierot beamed, and lead Lila to a room filled with mannequins dressed in pieces of cloth, some stitched together, others held on by needles.
“I did your costume first because it is so special,” the woman replied, pulling a long gown from a rack in the back of the room.
Lila gasped when she saw it, squealing like a little girl as she touched the beautiful dress. It was pale pink, so pale it looked white in the dim room, but shone a rosy hue as Lila held it under the overhead lamp. Low in bodice with delicate straps of pink pearls, it was feminine and delicate but modest enough to demonstrate the innocence of her character. Instead of the customary tulle the other ballerinas would wear, her skirt flowed freely in layers of soft cloth. The hemline angled to rise high on the hip of her good leg, and long to mid-calf and ankle on her bad leg. It would hide her limp, but flatter the rest of her figure.
“May I try it on?” Lila pleaded. Mrs Pierot smiled again and winked.
“This one is yours, my dear.” She reached into the rack of costumes again and pulled out an identical dress. “I made two, one for you, and one for the play. But don’t tell Walter, or he’ll have my head.”
The two women giggled, and Lila rushed to behind the dressing screen to try on her new costume.
She came out hesitantly, hands demurely behind her back, looking down at her toes.
“You look beautiful, Lila,” Mrs. Pierot exclaimed as she turned Lila around. “You could wear this outside and no one would know the difference. You make the dress your own.”
Lila clapped her hand and kissed the woman on the cheek. “Merci one hundred thousand times, Mrs. Pierot, merci! I shall wear it out tonight.” The young woman grabbed her bag and put the rest of her clothes in it, and then she walked as fast as she could outside to catch the nearest taxi.
Twenty minutes later, Lila was seated primly in the back of a taxi, fingering the pink cloth of her skirt with a smile on her face. People had stared as she walked by, and no one had seemed to notice her limp. Everything was going perfectly, as if in a dream. The play was progressing ahead of schedule, her voice sounded better than ever, and this new dress, this new dress made her feel beautiful.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the driver run the traffic light into oncoming traffic. She didn’t notice the large truck that came barreling towards their compact car. She only noticed the blaring of the horn that caused her to snap her head just in time to see the truck slam into the passenger side of the car.
Witnesses said it was a miracle anyone was still alive. The truck had nearly split the taxi cab in two. The driver was killed after the car flipped the second time. His neck snapped as he landed heavily against the ground. Lila had faired better, though by very little. The truck had hit the side she was sitting on, forcing her towards the center of the car. The crumpled aluminum body created a sort of cocoon as the momentum of the collision buffeted her around. Everything had gone black the instant the truck had hit the car. Perhaps she had fainted, or been knocked unconscious. Whatever the cause, she had yet to wake up.
The hospital had called her mother out of her business trip. They told the hysterical woman that her daughter was in a coma. She had flown straight to Paris, and never left her daughter’s side, hoping against hope that Lila would wake up. The directors of the show had delayed rehearsal, but “the show must go on,” they had said and cast someone else as Meg.
Perhaps it was best that Lila was unconscious for that decision. It would’ve broken her heart.
It would seem that our story ended here, my friends, if not for the fact that Lila is not dead. No, in fact she was raging against the catatonic stupor that her weak physical body was in. Her spirit struggling with all its might to let someone, anyone know she was still there.