3,423Greetings, my wonderful readers!
Here is my latest offering... a heartwarming tale about our favorite Opera Ghost.
I am just going to say this outright...ERIK AND I LOVE GETTING REVIEWS! So please make us both happy and take a moment to send us one at the end of each chapter...pretty please.
OH and I am honor bound to warn you that this story contains a lot of 'feels' and tugs at your heartstrings. It also has a lot of laughs, loves and will hopefully make you smile. It will be, as usual, a smut-light story. *end of public service announcement*
We start out a bit differently than any of the ones I have written before. I hope you like it!
And so, I give you:
"Seeing is Believing"
Chapter 1
The Paper Swan
1856 - Small town just outside of Paris, France
Anna tucked a stray lock of her golden hair behind her ear and stared down at the newspaper page in her hand, reading over the advertisement for a housekeeper and nanny one more time. This was her last hope, for if she did not secure a position this very day, she feared she would not only be left homeless but also without the basic necessities like food and clothing as well. So as she stared up at the house before her, Anna said a silent prayer that she would not walk away empty handed this time.
Over the past several months she had gone from one form of occupation to the next, yet without many of the skills needed to hold steady employment, she was let go each time. While Anna worked very hard, was always on time and more than willing to take direction…the fault lay in the fact that she simply did not know how to do anything. She couldn't cook, sew, bake or even clean a floor properly – at least according to her last employer. Yet, what did they expect from a girl who had been trained to do only one thing since she was ten years old? However, that skill had been lost to her and there was no way it was ever coming back. Now, at the not so tender age of thirty-one, Anna had very few options left to her. She knew that her beauty was no longer that of her youth, though she had retained her trim figure and comely appearance - if the lustful glances that men still gave her were to be believed. Yet looks did not pay the bills, and so she found herself once more searching for work and hoping this time she would be a good fit for the job.
The advertisement was several weeks old, however when she inquired, it appeared that the position had still not been filled. This gave her hope…as well as a measure of dread. The job did not sound overly difficult and the wages it promised were very reasonable, so why did it seem no one wanted the position? When she had asked directions on the street, the looks she had received were also alarming. Some did not even bother to answer her question, merely muttered a quick prayer and hurried on. What was it that had so many people nervous about the address she asked about? What was Anna getting herself into?
As she approached the gate, rusty and overrun with vines, she double checked the address one last time, hoping there had been some mistake. Yet it matched, so she proceeded up the walk. The house was quite grand and probably in its day had been the envy of all who passed by. But now with the paint peeling, shingles missing and many of the upper windows boarded up, the house looked downright eerie. Anna shaded her emerald green eyes against the setting sun and when she looked up she could have sworn she saw some movement in the uppermost window. It was fleeting and probably just her mind playing tricks on her, but for some reason it gave her the shivers.
"What are you doing, Anna?" she asked herself quietly as she stepped up onto the porch. Unfortunately she found she could not argue with the little voice inside her that answered back. "Surviving."
So mustering all her courage she reached up and knocked. The heavy wooden door seemed to swallow up the sound and she dearly hoped someone heard her, for she doubted she had the courage to try again. Yet when there came the loud click of a lock and the door opened a few inches, she knew her presence had been detected.
Trying to sound as friendly as possible, Anna greeted the woman whose face appeared in the crack of the door.
"Hello, I am looking for Madame Trouville," Anna told her, using the name that was printed in the newspaper clipping.
"Who are you and what do you want?" came the woman's cold reply, sounding neither friendly nor welcoming.
"M-m-my name is Anna, and I have come to apply for the job that was advertised," she quickly explained, fearing the woman might shut the door in her face. "The one for a housekeeper and a nanny."
The door opened just a bit more, allowing Anna to see that the woman she was speaking with was not as old as she had originally sounded, possibly even a few years younger than herself. However, her clothing and general appearance gave the impression that she was tired beyond her years and supported the weight of many cares. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun and her drab, black dress appeared to be something one might wear when in mourning.
"You…you wish to take the job?" she asked in a shocked voice.
"I would like the opportunity to try," Anna assured her, doing her best to look confident in her decision.
"You can't just try," the woman objected. "You either take the job or you don't. I will not have you coming in here and poking your nose in my business just so you can go spreading gossip all about town!"
When it appeared that the woman was about to slam the door, Anna quickly placed her hand against it to hold it open.
"I guarantee you, Madame Trouville, I am not here for any reason other than to seek employment," she assured her. "I am a hard worker, I am very punctual and I know how to mind my own business." And then, because she truly was that desperate, she added, "Please, I really need the work."
The plea in her words must have convinced the woman for after a moment she stepped back and at last opened the door wide enough for Anna to enter. The inside of the house was almost as bad as the outside. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere and it appeared that the floors had not been swept in a year. She could certainly see why the place was in need of a housekeeper. Yet this led Anna to wonder about the second job of nanny. How in the world could one expect a child to live in such a filthy place? She shuddered to imagine how sickly a babe or even a toddler might be simply by being forced to grow up in such conditions. If she did get the job, she would make sure there were many changes instituted around here immediately.
"I have been ill for some time and I have not had the energy to do any cleaning," the woman told her, obviously noticing how Anna had looked around disapprovingly.
And while it might have been the truth, the true reason for the mess more than likely stemmed from the fact that there were dozens of bottles of wine and other hard liquors sitting around the cluttered parlor. Yet since she needed the job more than she needed an explanation, Anna kept silent and simply nodded her head.
"So tell me about yourself," Madame Trouville continued, motioning for her to take a seat on the sofa while she herself sat down in a comfortable looking chair by the fireplace. "Where do you come from, what has brought you here and why do you think you are the right person for the job?"
"Well, my name is Anna de Ch….Anna Silberg," she stammered, catching herself in time and instead giving the woman her maiden name. "I am originally from Sweden, but I have lived in France since I was thirteen. I am recently…widowed and if you give me the job I promise I will work hard for you and you will be well pleased with my performance."
"Your French is very good, I would not have guessed you were a foreigner," her prospective employer stated as she stared at Anna through discerning eyes. "You appear to be healthy enough to work but are you strong enough to take on the mental strains of this job as well?"
"Mental strain?" Anna questioned. "I don't understand."
"Keeping the house in order is only part of the employment and not the major one at that," the lady explained. "There is…a child in the house. He would be your main concern." She seemed reluctant to talk about the subject and Anna could tell she was being evasive with her information as well. "I would require that you see to his needs, making sure he is occupied with things to do and keep him out of my way. However I will warn you…he is not like other children."
"I…I see," Anna nodded, quite sure, in fact, that she didn't.
"By the look on your face, I must assume that you are new to the area," Madame Trouville guessed. "For if you weren't, I would think by now you would have heard some kind of rumors about…the child that lives here."
"I have only been in town for a little over two months," Anna explained. "And in that time I have busied myself with finding a job and not with idle gossip or useless rumors. I deal in fact, Madame Trouville, not in baseless fiction."
This answer seemed to please the woman and after a moment she continued.
"The child in question is deformed, Madame Silberg," she at last confessed. "Horribly so, enough that it has been impossible to keep any servants in this house for longer than a week. He is unruly, belligerent and prone to fits of temper. I have done all I can with him but nothing ever seems to be enough. At times I fear that he is quite mad, or heaven forbid, completely deranged."
"Oh dear," was all Anna could think to say, her eyes growing wide at the woman's words. She had suspected that something was not right in the house but she had never imagined this. How old was the child? How long had he been this way? How would she ever deal with a charge like that?
"Are you still interested in the position?" the woman all but scoffed, seeing the trepidation that now shone in Anna's eyes. "Are you still willing to try?" The last word was said almost as an insult or a dare and nothing brought the pluck out of Anna more than a challenge.
"I am," she assured the somber looking lady. "I told you, I am very much in need of the work and nothing you have said thus far has frightened me enough to leave. However, I find it hard to believe that a child could be as terrible as you describe."
"Well…seeing is believing, or so they say. Thus, I think it best that before we go any further with the interview, that you go see for yourself what it is you will be dealing with," Madame Trouville suggested with a heavy sigh, one born from the suspicion that once Anna saw the boy, she would immediately refuse the job. "He is in the last room on the left at the very top of the stairs. Here, you will need this," she said, reaching into a pocket in her dress and pulling out a shiny brass key. "If you still want to work here after you get a good look at him - after you realize that I am in no way exaggerating - then the job is yours."
Anna sat there, wondering what she had gotten herself into as she stared at the key the woman continued to hold out to her. At last, she rose and accepted the instrument that would open the door leading to her new charge. That is if she didn't run screaming from the house just as Madame Trouville expected her to upon seeing the boy. Yet how bad could it be? If the people she had met on the street were any indication…pretty bad. Still, he was just a little boy…how little she had yet to ascertain but the bottom line was that Anna needed the work. So squaring her shoulders, she turned and headed up the stairs. She had gotten only a few steps up before she turned and looked back, asking the question she should have thought to request sooner.
"What is the boy's name, Madame?"
There was a long pause before she gave an answer.
"He calls himself…Erik," she replied with a sigh that conveyed nothing short of contempt and disgust.
.
.
Anna slowly made her way to the top of the stairs and then down the long hallway to stand outside the last door. From the location in the house she was certain that this was the room she had detected movement from while standing outside. It had been only a flash of something, but as she reached up to place the key in the lock she could feel the same shiver of fear snake its way down her spine. With a loud click, the lock gave way and the door swung open a few inches. This was the moment of truth.
Feeling very much like an intruder and wishing to announce her presence, Anna knocked quietly on the door before slowly pushing it open. The room was dark, with only a few small beams of sunlight filtering through the boarded up windows. There was hardly any furniture to speak of; a small dresser, a little table and chair, a wooden trunk and a simple cot over in the corner. There were no pictures or paintings hanging on the wall or shelves of books or even one single toy that she could see - a very dark and dreary existence if Anna ever saw one.
Yet what stole her attention was the small figure over by the far wall, his back turned to her as he sat hunched over something in his lap. She stood frozen in her spot as she took in the sight of him, her mouth going unspeakably dry by what she saw. He was thin…painfully so, almost to the point of being called skeletal. From behind she could see parts of his neck and arms as they peeked out from the ill-fitting shirt he wore. It appeared to be three sizes too small for his minuscule frame and from his elbows down she could see there was very little meat on his frail looking arms and wrists. His backbone was showing through the thin shirt, each little nodule protruded out at least half an inch, making it resemble that of a dragon more than a child. His dark hair was a complete travesty, for parts were long and shaggy, while other places on his skull were completely bare or sported only peach fuzz. And while he had yet to move or even acknowledge that she was in the room, Anna could see his frail shoulder rise and fall with each breath he took. If it had not been for that small indication, she might have thought the pitiful child had died months ago and Madame Trouville had simply forgotten to bury the corpse.
Yet he was alive and in desperate need of care, that was certain. So clearing her throat she attempted to speak.
"E-e-erik," she began, her voice cracking as she said his name. "I…I am Madame Silberg…but you can call me Anna." She introduced. "Your…" she found she had to stop there since she was still not certain of the relationship between Erik and her would-be employer. So playing it safe she continued, "Madame Trouville has advertised for a nanny to care for you and I am hoping to take the job."
There was no response from the boy. Not even a flinch. Could he be deaf as well? Surely his guardian would have mentioned such a thing before sending her up. So very cautiously, Anna began to approach the still child, giving him a wide berth as she came around to his left side. The wooden trunk was against the wall about five yards from where he continued to sit and so she lowered herself down on it, perching on the very edge as if prepared to spring forth should danger present itself.
From her new vantage point she could now see two things. One was his profile, which immediately caused a lump to form in her throat. His entire face was covered by a white mask made up of some type of cloth, tied around the back of his head by a black ribbon, which blended seamlessly in with his patchy dark hair. From what she could see, the cloth molded to his face, revealing the non-existence of a nose…or at least not a prominent one. His lower lip and chin were the only parts she could see of his pathetic little face and her heart bled to think of what the mask might still conceal. The second thing she could see was what he was holding on his lap. A book. And not just any book - a large volume the size of the most extensive dictionary. The print was very small, and from what she could see there were no pictures decorating the pages, only words. It was still almost impossible for her to decipher his age, but from the size of him, she could not imagine him being more than seven or eight. If she were to go by his frame alone she might have even guessed younger, but there was an aura about him that betrayed wisdom of years, thus prompting her to gauge higher.
He still refused to look at her, speak or even move and this was beginning to unnerve Anna greatly. While she was immensely pleased that he was not acting out in any way, like Madame Trouville had described him, she was also beginning to wonder how she might interact with him if he refused to even acknowledge her presence.
"Erik, will you not even say hello to me?" she asked quietly, still very wary of the strange boy. Again…nothing. He simply sat there, not moving while he stared at the book, one she still could not believe someone so young could completely understand. In fact upon further examination, it appeared that the book was written in…Latin! Who even read that language anymore?
Anna was about to give up, admit defeat and begin her search for yet another job she could fail at, when her hand brushed against her pocket where the folded up page from the newspaper still lay. An idea struck her and she pulled it out, doing it very slowly and methodically in hopes that the boy would see. She smoothed the crumpled paper out on her lap and began to create intricate folds into it as she went, creating a masterpiece of oriental art. It took her quite a while to complete and as she went, she would peek up to see if she had gained an audience. At first it appeared her work had gone unnoticed, yet as the beautiful swan began to take shape under her skillful hands Anna saw the boy's head turn ever so slightly. By the time she had reached the part where she was forming the wings, he was now staring riveted as she worked. It was then that she saw them…his eyes. They were heartbreakingly sad, reflecting years of neglect and loneliness, but it was the color that struck her most. An amber color that rivaled that of any precious gem, burning like two fiery coals from behind that stark white mask. Anna was almost hypnotized by his stare as he watched her hands working their creative powers over the paper. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul…yet what she saw there was more than that – they told the story of his life. And even for one so young, it was plain that Erik's had been full of tragedy.
When the swan was complete, with a graceful neck and wings that protruded on either side of its parchment body, she held it up for inspection.
"There," Anna said with a note of pride. "Not too bad if I do say so myself." And without looking directly at the boy, for fear she might spook him, she set it down on the trunk next to her. "Well, I suppose I better be going. I do not wish to keep you from the book you are reading." Standing up, she gave him a wide smile, causing the boy's exotic eyes to grow wide with shock before he jerked his head back down and once more stared at the volume in his lap. Crestfallen, Anna gave a sigh and headed out, looking back once more before she exited and relocked the door behind her. Yet she did not leave. Instead she placed her ear to the wood and listened, straining to hear anything that might prove to her that she had made a difference. Then she heard it, soft little footsteps as they made their way from where he had sat towards the trunk. A smile touched her lips as she noted the rustling of paper, perhaps the boy was fanning out the wings of the swan or unfolding the creation to ascertain how it had been made. Either way, he had reacted to her presence, acknowledging that she had been there.
Feeling the warm glow of success within her chest, Anna made her way back down to the parlor where Madame Trouville still sat, with a sullen look on her face and a glass of burgundy liquid in her hand. She made no attempts to hide the liquor as Anna entered the room.
"So…you saw him?" It was more a statement than a question. "I did not hear any screaming, so I assume he did not attack you."
Anna was shocked at her words…had that truly been a possibility?
"N-n-no…he was very calm." Almost too calm for one so young. Especially when he should be out playing; running and jumping and getting into normal boyhood mischief. Not sitting up in a dark room reading a behemoth of a book in Latin!
"You saw what he looks like?" this time there was almost a glimmer of hope in her voice.
"I did." Anna confirmed, though in truth she was still very curious as to what the mask continued to hide.
"And…?" Madame Trouville prodded.
"I will take the job."
And there you have it folks...the beginning!
So what do you think of my starting off the story with Erik so young? I have never written "little Erik" before so I hope I do him justice. I did my best to keep away from Suzette being too physically abusive...mostly just neglectful. But feel free to hate Suzette at any time, in fact...I think it is required!
And don't worry, this is totally an Erik/Christine story, I am just laying the foundation for now. Just wait...
Oh and Erik's last name is pronounced: True-veel
I will be posting chapters three times a week: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. There are 50 chapters to this story so it will take a while to post, but fear not, there is no chance of me leaving you hanging or abandoning it.
Now, please hit the review button and tell me what you think!
Your obedient servant,
FP33