Angel Of Music

Chapter 1:Echo's Whisper

“I'm so terribly sorry.” I apologized, and unbuckled the seat around my middle. I stood up and open the compartment above my seat. I grabbed my carry-on bag, and smiled at the at flight attendant whose name tag said her name was Janice.

She moved out of the way as I exited my seat, smiling the whole time.

She was still smiling as I walked towards the exit.

Okay, someone takes their job a little to seriously,” I thought to myself, and made to follow the other passengers out the door. Just as I was about to step out onto the platform, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find the smiling Janice smiling even bigger. I smiled back against my will, and turned to face her once again.

“Yes?”

She touched the side of my face, her hands soft and comforting.

“You have a beautiful singing voice,” she said.

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling flattered, and turned to walk down the tunnel that led into the airport.

I was halfway down before I heard her speak again.

“He has missed you... Christine.”

I stopped in my tracks, and felt my heart pound for a reason I couldn't explain.

How the hell does she know my full name is Christine?

I spun around, and jumped back when I saw her behind me, still smiling.

“What the hell?” I gasped out, feeling the blood pound through my veins.

Her smile twisted almost cruelly.

“Make the right choice this time, Christine,” she said, her voice taking on an ominous tone.

“What are you taking about?” I said in a loud whisper, glancing at the other passengers staring at us.

“Is there a problem here?” I heard a loud and authoritative voice say behind me in french, and I spun around to face a security guard.

I was shaking, but I made my voice firm.

“This flight attendant is threatening me.” I said in the same language, pointing behind me.

He looked behind me, and then looked back, raising an eyebrow.

“What flight attendant?”

I glanced behind me in exasperation and blanched.

There was no one there.

“But- she-she... she was---,”

The security guard took my arm and gently but firmly propelled me towards the terminal.

“Ma'am, I'm taking you to—-,” he tried to say, but I pulled arm out of his grasp.

“I am perfectly capable of taking myself through the terminal, thank you,” I replied frostily, and walking with my head held high, and ignoring the people staring curiously in my direction, I made my way to the baggage claiming area.

I found the luggage carousel, and waited patiently for my bag to roll around. Once my black bag came, I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed it.

I turned back around and nearly jumped out of my skin. A tall statuesque woman was looking down her nose at me through black wire rimmed glasses. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe ballerina bun that made my own scalp hurt just looking at it. She had a pleasantly middle aged face, and the bluest eyes were staring down at me shrewdly, as if assessing me.