Phantom of the Opera 1. Chapter 1

_**Some Random Story…**_

**Chapter 1…**

A light breeze lazily blew in through my window, raising goosebumps on my bare shoulders and ruffling my hair. I shivered. It was cool, and made the air taste like the ocean outside my window. Wind chimes played softly in the distance, their random and tentative melodies like a child's first attempts at a new experience, like magic. I inhaled slowly, committing this magical and stirring moment to memory. Then, very slowly, I opened my eyes.

The girl on the other side of the full-length mirror was definitely not me. It couldn't be. Her sea blue-grey eyes were wide with amazement, and framed by feathery grey lashes. Her sandy blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders and was curled into tight little ringlets. Her cheeks were a rosy red – not the red you get from really bad sunburns or when you are embarrassed – the perfect shade of pink. Her thin, pale shoulders were bare, and a thin ribbon around her neck held her dress in place. The dress itself seemed to have come straight out of a fairy tale. The satin clung lightly to her hips, and its silvery teal fabric shimmered as another breeze drifted though the room. The gown's hem gracefully touched the floor, and her feet rested comfortably in silver slippers.

It had to be me; there was no one else there. But it couldn't be me. My eyes were usually framed by thick, unattractive glasses, not gorgeous lashes. I usually wore ratty t-shirts and jeans, not evening gowns. My hair never agreed with me, so it stayed in a knotted ponytail, as a compromise. My feet were usually housed in roomy old tennis shoes. And forget makeup – my cheeks were usually pale, and covered with unruly freckles. It was a stunning and awe-inspiring transformation.

A shadow appeared behind me in the mirror. "What do you think?" its motherly voice asked.

"Oh, Nana… it's… it's _perfect_!" I whispered, unable to speak. I turned around. There Nana stood a warm smile on her face. Wrinkles and creases etched into her skin covered up the fact that she had been beautiful long ago. Her salt-and-pepper hair was twisted up into and elegant bun and her green eyes sparkled with melancholy sadness.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, her wrinkled lips spreading into an even wider smile. "It's not every day that one of the girls here gets to go to prom."

"Mmmm…" I smiled. I felt a twinge of discomfort at her mention of the orphanage, but she was right. It wasn't every day that you got to go to prom, and obviously it was Nana's objective to make the night one of the most memorable of my life.

"Well… are you ready to go?" She asked.

In reality, I was a nervous wreck. My palms were sweating and shaking, but I swallowed and nodded. Nana hugged me tightly, tears in her eyes.

"Let's go," she whispered. She took my hand and led me out of the room, and down the all-too-familiar hallways. When we reached the top of the stairs, I saw all of the younger kids at the orphanage lining the way down, waiting expectantly. All of them gasped and stared in awe.

"Sara, Sara!" they chanted. "You look like a princess! You look like a fairy godmother!" I smiled warmly. Being one of the oldest kids at the orphanage at seventeen, I loved the little ones dearly, and wanted for them all to get adopted one day. It was too late for me. When you're a senior in high school, there is next to no chance that you will get adopted at all.

I let my eyes wander down the stairs, past all of the happy children, to where my "date" stood: my best friend in a tuxedo, a huge smile on his face, corsage in hand.

Although I had seen him all week, it was like seeing him for the first time. And, despite all of the arguments we had had recently, my heart swelled. All second thoughts, all nervous jitters went away as soon as I saw him, and I was home at last.

Kyle Golden, my best guyfriend, stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes locked on my slowly descending form as we weaved our way through the excited children. His eyes grew excited as we finally reached him, like he had just won the lottery.

"Wow, Sarabear, you look _amazing,_" he said in awe, whistling and taking my hand.

I blushed. "Well, you aren't too shabby yourself, Kylee," I joked.

He actually did look dapper (more than usual, at least). His blond hair was combed neatly, and his black tuxedo was nearly spotless. A wide smile was on his face. I gently took the white carnation corsage out of the box he was holding and attempted to tie it around my own wrist. It was then that I noticed that my hands were expertly French manicured… possibly even fake. I looked up at Nana, who smiled wryly.

Kyle was carefully tying the corsage to my wrist, staring at me the whole time.

"What?" I finally asked, irked that he kept staring.

"You are so beautiful," he replied serenely.

I was mentally shocked. I mean, I was prepared for _amazing_ but not _beautiful_. I was pretty sure he was joking. But I smiled.

The tears on Nana's face fell faster now as we climbed into the car and she drove us to the hotel where the prom was being held. The Hotel de Chagny was dressed in its best décor. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. I took another breath to calm myself, and climbed out of the car. Kyle took my hand and led me into the ballroom. There were a lot of people from our school, Fort Williams High, and almost all of them were dancing to the slow, sweet, and mesmerizing music.

"Shall we?" Kyle asked, being the gentleman. I nodded, too nervous to speak. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist. My arms hung loosely on his shoulders. I looked around, and saw our friends from the orphanage: Pat and Troy, Harrison and Lucy, Pam and her boyfriend Paul Nic, and Dawn, who was flirting with all of the single, cute guys.

I sighed, as if the whole day of preparation had drained me. I rested my head on his chest (it was a good thing that he was a good foot taller than me), and inhaled, accidentally taking in his musky, warm, bread-in-the-oven scent. I was bewildered. I never thought that we would get this close. Sure, we were best friends (and maybe I had a teensy little crush on him), but that was it… I think.

I felt a small amount of pressure on my hair… was it his lips? I looked up, and he was smiling down at me, his face only inches away from mine. He brought his lips to my ear.

"Sara… there's been something I've been wanting to tell you," he murmured. My hands grew clammy again. "As long as we've known each other, well… I've… always sort of liked you," he continued. I gulped. "So… wh-what I'm really trying to say is…" he pulled back, our faces only centimeters away. "Is that I love you."

I was so shocked that I wasn't able to forma response, rational or irrational. He took my face in his hands and hesitated, gauging my reaction. When he decided that I wasn't going to push him away, he pressed his lips very gently to mine, kissing me tenderly, his fingers twisting in my hair. It lasted for an eternity. But, surprisingly, a very nice eternity. What was most surprising of all was that _I kissed him back_.

When the kiss was finally over (no Frenching, thank heaven, I was totally not ready for that yet), he (anticlimactically) went to get punch, which I felt was kind of clichéd. I stood there, quivering, trying to comprehend it all. It felt like the room was spinning, so I staggered to a chair over by the wall. I sat, and tried to clear my head. What had just happened? It was all a blur. All that I was sure of was this one simple fact: Kyle loved me. One of my best friends in the while wide world loved me, and I loved him back. And that was enough for me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2…**

As I slowly opened my eyes, I knew that it was too good to be true. Of course it was. Weren't all dreams like that? Sure enough, in front of me was the pale blue paint of my bedroom, paint peeling and cracking. I turned my head, and saw in the bed next to me the slowly breathing figure of Lucy, another of the older girls who shared a room with me at the orphanage.

I sighed, and sat up to look at the clock. Ten-thirty. Typical. I zonk out before I can get any of my homework done. Why was this becoming the norm?

I fell back to the bed, absently staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the ceiling, revisiting the dream. Yeah, we had been fighting for a couple of weeks, but it was doubtful that it would have a fairy-tale-ish ending like that, however nice that would be. But, Kyle had offered to take me to prom, but that was two weeks away, and there was no way _that_ was going to happen if we were sill arguing.

And what about that kiss? There was no way it could feel so real and still be a dream. I could still feel the phantom tingle of his lips on mine. There was no way.

No way…

Anyhoo, the weirdest part of the dream was that I actually _liked _it, not to mention that _I kissed him back_. It didn't make sense.

I began to think about what it was we were fighting about. He had been acting so… _strange_ lately. The brooding, the secrecy… we _never_ kept secrets from each other. It was so weird. I tried to ask him about it, and that was how the whole thing started…

"Hey, Kyle… can I talk to you?" I asked. It was Friday, and snow was falling heavily, blanketing everything. We were trudging home, back to Holloway's orphanage.

"Sure… what about?" he answered, strangely wary.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to, like, catch a movie or something later on. You know, hang out." I said.

"Sorry, Sarabear, I have a ton of homework," he answered. He was lying. We had the same classes, and we had no homework whatsoever.

"You sure? I could help you with it, _if we had any_." I hinted, forcing him to tell the truth.

"Yeah…"

"What, were you not listening or something in class? Kyle, we don't have any homework! So, why can't you go?" I asked, growing frustrated.

"I… uh… have a… a thing. I have a thing," he replied.

"What? Football? It's snowing Kyle, in case you haven't noticed. How can you play football in this?" I snapped, gesturing around us.

"Yeah… uh… no… listen, can we talk about this later? I need to get going."

"To what?"

"A thing!"

"What thing?"

"Can't you see that I don't want to talk about it? Can't you just leave my alone for once?" he snapped. The words stung, and I stopped. Kyle plowed ahead. I ran to catch up.

"Kyle… I'm your friend. Why can't you tell me? Please?" I pleaded softly, trying to make amends.

"No! Just leave me alone, Sara! I'm allowed to have secrets, aren't I?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"But nothing! Just leave me alone!"

His cruel words brought tears to my eyes. "What is _wrong_ with you?" I yelled. "You used to be… a _good_ friend. Now, I… I… _I don't know you anymore!_" I stopped, catching my breath. I glared at him, exasperated. "Next time you feel like talking to someone, or actually interacting with people," I said slowly, looking at him with a level gaze. "Find someone else. I am _sick _of this crap, Kyle, _sick_. You have been doing this for weeks! Are you listening to me, Kyle? I am through, you hear me? Through with your crap. I have had it. When you actually feel like talking to me, or want to actually be a friend, you know where to find me." I turned, and walked away.

"Sara… Sara WAIT!" He yelled. I kept walking, forcing myself to look ahead. He ran to catch up, and grabbed my shoulder. "If I told you, you… you wouldn't understand." He murmured. "Sara… I'm… I'm really sorry."

"Mmm-hmm, Riiight. Listen, I'll just ask Lucy or someone else to go. They would do so gladly. Go do _your thing_. Don't worry about me, I can do _just frickin' fine without you_. So, get off of me. More accurately, go away." I said bitterly, sarcasm dripping from my speech. Kyle reluctantly slid his hand off of my shoulder, but instead of leaving, he held onto my hand.

"Sara…" he started, his face full of remorse and pleading for forgiveness.

For a moment, I actually considered forgiving him. That was until I remembered the last few lonely weeks when he had ditched me for his "thing". _Time to give him a taste of his own medicine, _I thought. "I'm outta here." I muttered, pulling away and stomping off.

The last thing I could remember of that dream was the look on his face. It was a hollow, haunted look, mixed with the expression of someone being stung. It was a familiar face, as he had made that exact face on the afternoon of the actual argument.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3…**

I opened my eyes again, only to see that a light was creeping through my window. Dawn would be here soon. The light flickered three times. The signal. I grabbed my flashlight, and flashed the light back.

This was obviously _not_ the same dawn that occurs at the beginning of the day. No, this was my best friend, Dawn St. Clair. This was her habit. As soon as she figured that everyone but me (and sometimes Kyle) was asleep, she would climb up the lattice outside my window and crawl in.

I looked at the clock. Twelve forty-five. Stupid dream. I looked up, and saw Dawn at the window, smiling at me, her perfect white teeth glinting in the full moonlight. I opened the window and she crawled in. _Crawled _isn't the best word to describe it. It was more like she _fell_ in, with a muted _thump_.

"So, where's Kyle? Sulking?" Dawn asked, already up-to-date in the latest gossip.

"Probably. What do you want to do tonight?" I asked, yawning.

Dawn pretended to consider. "Hmmm… we could have a séance, or maybe a staring contest, or… oh! I know! We could sit in a sewing circle and knit for an hour!" She said, false excitement in her eyes. In reality, she was joking about two of the options, not because they were boring, but also because she was really into the whole there-is-an-afterlife-and-how-will-you-be-spending-it spiel, not to mention the-spirits-are-our-guides-in-life-so-listen-up thing. We usually had our séances biweekly.

I rolled my eyes. "Sewing circle… hmmm, you know, I'm going to have to take a rain check. I lost my knitting needles. Maybe next time, though." I said, sarcasm just covering my words. "As for that staring contest… well, my eyes are sooo dry, so, I think I'll pass. But as for that séance… We just had one on Monday… oh what the heck. Did you bring everything?" I asked.

"Well, duh," she grinned. "Do you want to wake up Kyle?"

"What's the point? He probably knows you're here, not to mention that he's probably listening at the door."

"Ok, well, let me set up." She grinned again, opening up my tiny closet. In the back, a small door was sealed tight, barely visible in the shadows. The orphanage was really old, and it had a bunch of secret rooms and passageways. This just so happened to be one of the many that we discovered over the years. Now, it was my "Inspiration Room", where we held séances (because Dawn had deemed it sacred) so no one could hear, and where I wrote and spent most of my time thinking nowadays. Only three people held keys to this door: Dawn, Kyle, and myself.

"You should change the locks," Dawn suggested mildly, shocking me out of my reverie. Along with being really superstitious, she also was clairvoyant: she always knew exactly what I was thinking, like she could read minds or something. It was like a freakish superpower or something like it.

"Nah, I'm too lazy. Who knows? Maybe he and I will start talking again." I said pulling the key out of the inside of my shirt, where it hung on a chain. Dawn snorted in disbelief. I eased the key into the rusty lock, and turned. It opened, and Dawn and I crawled into the room. I roughly pulled the door shut, locking it behind us. "Did you bring the Ouija Board?"

"Of course," she huffed. "Don't I always?" I nodded. "So, are you just trying to find your place in the 'verse, or just your next date?"

"A little of both."

"All right! It's been a while since you've done that. Ok, here's your light, ready… snap them… now!" We snapped the glow lights in our hands, which casted an eerie green light along the silvery blue walls of the room. Dawn pulled out the "sacred" white séance robes and we pulled them on. We sat on the floor around the board and waited. Then it started to get cold. At first I didn't notice, the change was so slight. Then I realized that I was shivering, and the board began to shake.

"I… I think they're here, Dee… the spirits, I mean." I said, my voice shaking.

"Yeah… Time to ask our questions. You first, Sara."

I inhaled deeply. "Ok… um… Ouija Board, what is my purpose in this world… or life… or whatever?" I asked tentatively. The triangle on top of the board began to move. It covered certain letters that were used to spell out a word.

P…R…O…M…Q…U…E…E…N…

Haha.

"Nice one," Dawn snorted. "Next question."

"M'kay… Ouija Board…" I started, thinking. "Who am I meant to be with?" I really didn't expect an answer.

But, strangely enough, the letters began to spell out a name. A name I know all to well.

K…Y…L…E…G…O…L…D…E…N…

No way.

"WHAT?!?" Dawn shrieked, freaking out, blatant shock on her face. "NO WAY!"

"Shhhh!" I snapped, clamping a hand over her mouth. I had a strange feeling, like we were being watched, and not just by ghosts. "Someone's outside!" I hissed.

Dawn and I froze, fear coursing through our veins. I could hear a key sliding into the lock, then the faint _click_ as the bolt retracted. The door was wrenched open, and someone climbed in. The door slammed shut, and I heard another _click_ as the bold slid back in place. A pair of hands covered my eyes, and Dawn screamed. A voice chuckled darkly. I pulled the hands off of my face, and turned around.

There, standing behind me was – you guessed it – Kyle.


End file.

Phantom of the Opera, Romance, Suspense