Twisted Every Way

Chapter Three

Angel? What on earth was she talking about...

Me?

An Angel?

I nearly laughed out loud at such a ridiculous saying.

Then the blonde stopped them both and looked Christine in the eyes. "Christine, your angel? Stories like that just don't come true. Angel's don't come down to Earth from Heaven to hear girls sing." She stopped and her eyes grew wide. "Maybe the presence you felt was the Opera Ghost!"

I cringed as she said that rather loudly and I gazed around praying nobody heard. But then my heart sank and I grew frustrated with the little blonde girl, surpassing the urge to strangle the words 'Opera Ghost' right out of her little throat. I never wanted Christine to know about the Opera Ghost, to fear me or hear about my past. My fists tightened and I stepped around a corner, putting my back against the wall and breathing really heavy. Stay calm. She doesn't know you are one of the same. I glanced back around the corner, gripping the stone.

"Opera Ghost? What Opera Ghost?" Christine pushed. Meg shook her head and glanced around nervously. I noticed Christine sigh and started to walk forward again. "Meg, you speak of Angels not being true, but now you speak of ghosts as if they are true!" She stopped again, and looked at Meg. "I heard him sing to me, Meg. He is real!"

"Christine, what are you talking about? When have you heard this Angel sing to you?"

I leaned forward in anticipation, realizing I was exposing myself more in the light and had to shuffle back into the shadows. I tried to peer around the corner again. I watched Christine close her eyes for a second, building the confidence to tell her friend the truth.

The anticipation almost killed me as she slowly opened her eyes and said, "Meg, do you remember that night I went to my parents grave and I came home so late? Your mom left the light on for me?" Meg nodded eagerly and I almost found myself nodding with her! Oh how much this girl makes me crazy! "Well, I was gone for quite some time because I heard him!" She stepped forward and grabbed hold of Meg's hands. Jealousy took a step in and I wanted her to willingly touch me like that.

Shaking my frustration out of my head, I watched the scene continue.

"I heard him singing to me as I was mourning my parents, and the moment I heard his voice..." She shivered and slightly closed her eyes. My desire erupted and I only ever wanted to make her shiver like that. Christine's beautiful eyes fluttered open and she gazed at her friend, "that wonderful beautiful voice took my pain away. I tried to find him, Meg, but I couldn't! It was as if his voice was everywhere all at once. He was gone before I could even find him... and that song..."

The graveyard?

I felt my brow furrow. And then I felt the memory slide into place and I pieced it together. I shook my head. It was when I went to see my mother's grave. But... Oh God.

I did sing that night! My heart leapt as I replayed her words in my head. She was there and she actually looked for me.

Our story was slowly piecing together and I stared at Christine in disbelief. She believed that song was for her... Was that not the idea of that song though? To allow my Angel of Music to hear those words of love and devotion and run into my arms? She was living here in Paris right under my nose this entire time and heard me! I felt like a fool!

My eyes went back to Christine and I watched her glance up at the sky as if she could see a heavenly presence. The heavenly presence was suppose to be me and I knew when she learned the truth, I would disappoint at every aspect. At that point, I was too deep into my obsession to place her dreams above my own. I knew I should leave her to believe in Angels, but I wanted her and I had to believe she could want me in return.