Song: All I Ask of You (Reprise) from the musical the Phantom of the Opera.
~ Ash ~
August, 2005
I stared out the attic window.
I had always liked it up here, even before. It was quiet. When I was younger, it was the spot I liked to hide. Though it was dusty and dark, cold and foreboding, cobwebs hanging off of every corner, once I lit a candle, it seemed warm and comforting; a home.
Nobody alive would ever bother me here.
I'd been sitting in a corner, next to the light of a lone candle, jotting down the melodies ringing through my head, when I heard the car crunch its way up the driveway. That was one of the other things I liked about the manor - the gravel driveway alerted you to any unwelcome guests.
And there were a lot of those these days.
The manor had been selling for over a year, ever since the last family disappeared. Vanished, never to be seen again. The mother, the father, and their only child. Gone.
I'd taken the opportunity to make this place my own. Nobody would care if a fourteen-year-old boy lived in an abandoned manor. I'd already found the hidden basement, sealed off from the rest of the word. I'd discovered numerous amounts of passages winding behind the walls of the manor. I stayed there at night, munching on the scraps of food left behind by the real estate agents, falling into a restless sleep. It wasn't enough, though. I was withering away, dying from the inside out. I couldn't survive like this much longer.
This is why I allowed the agents to show the house. To try to convince wealthy families that the manor was not cursed - claiming that the previous family simply moved away, choosing to abandon all connections in the town. No ghosts haunted the halls of this place.
Mostly because they were preoccupied with haunting me.
They were here now, watching me watch the sleek black car come to a stop in front of the house.
They won't take the house, purred a man's voice. I knew, if I turned, I'd see nothing; I'm fairly sure he wished to drive me mad. Nobody will take the house.
You will vanish, said a woman's voice, over my other shoulder. I knew if I turned to look, I'd see the faint shimmer of her outline - which was always more terrifying than hearing a voice. You will wither away into nothing, because you are nothing.
Shut up, shut up, shut up. I tried to block out the voices, but their words echoed around in my head, the same three words repeating over and over again, drilling into my memory.
You are nothing. You are nothing. You are nothing.
I gritted my teeth as I focused my attention out the window.
The housekeeper stood on the doorstep; the real estate agent hadn't come in this week. Actually, the agent hadn't been in for a few weeks. Part of me had hoped they'd given up hope of selling this house - the other part dreaded being alone, with only the ghosts to keep me company.
I'm withering away. Vanishing. Becoming nothing. A ghost.
A car door opened; a man stepped out. Recognition washed through me; the tumble of wavy fair blonde hair sitting on his head, the relaxed style with which he held himself, the way his head was never still, glancing this way in that, taking in every detail. I recognized this man; he came to the manor a few weeks ago for a tour, along with...
A woman stepped out of the car. She, too, was blonde, though it was a darker shade. Her posture was more rigid, though, from what I could tell, she was smiling. As the man came around to her side of the car, she looped her arm around his, pulling him closer to press a kiss against her cheek.
A third door opened.
The person who stepped out of the vehicle this time was younger, a child still, no older than ten. I guessed nine. Like her parents, she, too, was blonde, the same golden shade as her mother. As I watched, she eyed the manor carefully, frowning. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she grinned, the smile lighting up her entire face.
She said something to her father; who laughed in response, then scooped her up. I heard a dull squeal of surprise, mixed with laughter. He took a step towards the manor. In a flash, I stood up, abandoning my musical scribbles, and flew out of the attic, heading for the first passage I found.
I emerged in a bedroom - quickly, I slid the mirror back into place - and dashed out into the hall, keeping my footsteps light and soundless. I stopped just in front of the stairs leading into the foyer, making sure I couldn't be seen by anybody who happened to glance in my direction.
The father had set the girl down, going back outside to carry his wife over the threshold - like the rest of her family, the mother was laughing, too. I couldn't care less about the parents. My gaze was fixated on the girl, watching as she looked around the foyer, wonder shining in her - I could see now - brown eyes. Beautiful brown eyes.
She glanced back at her parents, laughing again; the sound echoed in the empty room. The girl stopped, looked thoughtful for a moment; then let out a soft, quiet note.
The father looked pleased.
"Good acoustics," the girl said. "Can I sing at the theater, Father?"
The father laughed, setting his wife down. "Not yet, Kriss," he said, kissing the top of her head. "You still have a long way to go."
The girl smiled absently, distracted again, her gaze wandering around in the same way her fathers did, taking everything in, excluding no details. It was a subconscious movement I would notice for another eight years, an action she did whenever her mind wandered. A movement she channeled whenever she sang, looking out over her audience.
It was a movement that vanished after her father died.
She glanced up the stairs, right towards where I was hidden. I held my breath, afraid she'd spot me lurking in the shadows.
Her gaze moved on without any signs that she had seen me.
You're nothing, whispered the woman's voice in my ear. Nobody will ever see you.
You could have been fire, added the man's voice. But you've thrown that aside, out of spite. You are only ashes now.
But, there came a boy's voice, young and broken. Another ghost. The ghost I despised the most. I turned, knowing I'd see him, see the despair, the hate, the loathing emanating from silver eyes, along with the hope that he wouldn't be chained to this place for eternity. Perhaps there's an ember of hope left for you, boy of ashes. His eyes flashed, briefly showing a part of himself he often kept buried away, fearing it, knowing he'd be hated for it.
Boy of ashes...
I turned back to the girl, who was starting to make her way up the stairs, intent on exploring her new home. Soon, I'd have to leave, heading back to the passage in that bedroom. I'd watch from behind the mirror as she entered that same bedroom a few minutes later. I'd watch from behind that mirror for many years to come. I'd witness her young, enchanting voice turn into that of a mature angel, taking me to ethereal heights along with her.
In ten years, I'd reveal myself to her, drawing her back to the manor after she fled to the city to escape the memory of Andrew Darcy. I'd help her recover her spirit, gain her trust and her love. She'd become mine, and I'd no longer be lonely.
She's my ember of hope. She will see me, and I will be a ghost no longer.
Hopeless dreams, came the boy's voice, silver eyes mocking me. Hopeless wishes.
The music I had been working on remained in the attic, forgotten.
May, 2015
If you don't do as I ask, the consequences will be on your shoulders.
My own words echoed through my head as I glared down at the scene unfolding before me, holding my breath.
I was hidden, unseen. A ghost, as she stared hopefully at him, who was standing completely still, shell-shocked.
I knew what he was feeling. It was the same thing I'd felt when I heard her sing. Really sing. It had been the most beautiful sound I'd heard, sung to her father.
I had sworn that, one day, she'd sing for me like that. I'd had hope when she sang for me at the theater, the sound of her voice echoing around the auditorium. Her eyes shone when she'd realized what she'd done.
But though her voice sang for me, her heart didn't.
It sang for him.
It was clear to me as those last notes of her song died away, leaving silence in its wake. I held my breath, waiting for the next lines; ones that would result in his heartbreak, the words that would leave her in my arms, forever.
But they never came.
"Jase..." she whispered. "Please... say something."
He blinked, remaining speechless, then crossed the floor to stand before her. Wordlessly, he reached up, cupping her face in his hands.
Please, my angel, I silently begged. Just say the words. Remember my warning.
"Kriss..." he murmured. Her breath hitched as he said her name. "That was..."
A change came over her. She breathed in deeply. Her fists clenched and unclenched, and she visibly relaxed, the tension that had been infused within her since I saw her this morning vanishing.
"Jase," there were a thousand unspoken thoughts in that one word, emotions layered on top of one another in harmony. My fists clenched.
He swallowed.
She leaned forward.
No! I screamed silently. Don't!
She pressed her lips against his.
And my heart shattered.
Breathing was difficult; the glass shards of my heart were stabbing into my every breath. My head swam with dizziness as the burning ember of hope I'd held onto for ten years went out.
You are a boy of ashes, whispered the boy. The echo of what has once been. Nothing more.
Did you really think you had a chance? sneered the woman. Did you honestly think she could love somebody like you?
The man was silent. It spoke a hundred words.
I snapped.
I'd been dangerously close to breaking over the years. I almost lost it this morning, listening to her defend her love for him. But I haven't completely lost control over my roiling sea of emotions in years. The last time I did...
Fiery anger flooded into me, pounding through my body like the beat of a drum. Anguish was next, robbing me of any and all rational thoughts.
She betrayed me. She denied me.
I gave you everything, my Angel. My music, my soul, my heart. I rekindled your voice.
He was bound to love her. Anybody who hears her sing will instantly fall in love.
Kristina... my Angel... no...
I couldn't watch any more.
Footsteps sounded from outside the library. I took a deep, shuddering breath, letting a cool detachment spread through me, blocking off my emotions.
Except for my anger.
I clung to it like a lifeline.
I swear, my Angel, you will curse this day. You will forever regret not doing what I asked of you.
My next actions were blurred.
Light became darkness.
Somebody was searching. Somebody else was ignoring me.
Anger became amusement.
I will make them regret it. I will make them all regret it.
Curiosity became fear.
These are the consequences. I will not be ignored.
Breathing became suffocating.
I am not nothing. I am burning.
Life became death.
Woah... this was definitely my favorite chapter to write.
Aaaand it's the shortest in the book!
No time for a long author's note today, I'm afraid. I'll just ask a few questions...
Did we enjoy this long-anticipated chapter?
Do you think I portrayed Ash accurately?
What do you think he did at the end?
Don't forget to vote and comment!
Love you all!
~ Evie