EriksAngelOfMusic22

He called her 'Son parfait est monté; le fait de monter sans une épine.' 'His perfect rose; the rose without a thorn.", but Aimee was far from perfect. She pretended to be perfect for him, but in secret, she yearned for freedom. Which was why that night, during 'Don Juan Triumphante', she feigned a bit of tiredness to leave Comte Philippe, her brother's, presence. She brushed away her long, red curls, and made her way down from Box 5 to the Grand Hall. From there, she seemed to be called to a certain hallway; a dark hallway that was dimly lit by a few candles. Only seeing a few people passing her, Aimee made her way d

London: 1875- It had been four years since Aimee had been labeled 'dead and gone' by her two brothers, and slipped away to London with the infamous Phantom of the Opera, her beloved Erik, now her husband. It had pained her deeply to hear Raoul, her second oldest brother, sobbing over her 'dead' body and cursing at Philippe that he would never forgive him for his transgressions. But what was she to do? She could not allow Philippe to kill Erik that night, nor allow him to take her away from him either, so she made a point to end her brother's reign of terror on her life. Now, years later, she was happier than she had ever been before. Erik ha

They made it to the house just as police showed up. Erik froze and turned toward them, "What's going on?" The officer walks up toward James, and points a gun at him, "Sir, you are under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder!" "No, no, it wasn't me!" James insisted as they started to shackle him. Erik started in as well, "This young man saved me: the two you want are Hammerstein and Barry O'Hare!" They glared at him, "Well, your Hammerstein pinpointed this fellow in the crime, and as for Mr. O'Hare, he was found murdered on the boardwalk." Erik wondered how he wound up at the boardwalk if he murdered him in the...Hammerstein! "No, yo

*James* The police surrounded the hospital as James and Aimee hurried to find Charity. She was sitting upright; her hands cuffed and her arm being stitched. Officers questioned her over her involvement in the death of Meg Giry, and Aimee started to cry, "Please officers, let her go! She is with child; you mustn't do this!" "She has confessed to murder, Madame." the officer said, apologetically, "I wish there was another way..." "It was self-defense." Charity said, softly, "But, all in all, I killed her." James knelt down and kissed her cuffed hands, "Charity...if it was self-defense, then why were you arrested?" She shrugged, "I don't kn

Family: a touchy subject for me to even ponder at such a young age, but I often wondered what It'd be like to have a family, especially one like Charity's: with a father, a mother, and an uncle as well. I fiddled with that idea for a while as I headed for school the next morning. Bess had taken ill, so I was on my own. As I rounded the corner, a group of hoolagans came from an alleyway, "Well what do we have here, boys?" "Looks like a pretty little thing ripe for the picking!" said another, trying to grab for me. I swug my pack at them, and screamed; running down the street as fast as my legs could take me. They followed close behind, taun

The lonely nights where I remember you singing me to sleep; the times I stare into a mirror and wait for a response. I wander aimlessly around; emptiness filling my heart. The night I left you behind. What was I thinking that dark night as I turned and walked away from you? Your tears flowing down your face; eating my soul, aching my heart. Was I really that heartless, or was I playing it safe? I was always afraid of fire, but fire always found me: touched me, caressed me. He was my fire; the one that brought me out of myself, so what made me leave? I sit up in the dark, and pray for a sign, but you never come. I barely sing anymore, m