The Phantom's Opera

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witch 05-25-2011 03:35 AM

She Will Rise Again
(You stumble across a tear socked page and wonder what it's all about. As you read it you think it a nightmare or a sense in a play but no, it's the first page of Evea Perry's dairy for Anastasiya Gorbachyov is no more)

I remember that night of so many years ago, the night were everything started... all except my life that is, for it had came to an end.

My head lay sleeping on the pillow as it always did, that had been the last night of dreams. My chest rose and fell the only sound cutting through the silence was my gentle breathing.

It was all of a sudden that I felt the knife at my throat and bottled awake, like a flash of lightening cutting through the sky and my mind telling me I was in danger. I could feel it cutting into my skin the dark eyes watching me, the things that gave me so much fear, yet I couldn't look away.

The cold blade of knifes tip stole my every breath and a statue could not have been more still. I wanted to scream, to move, to call for my father but nothing came I knew I would die this night.

If it weren't for the hand over my mouth or the fear of a just teened child I may have been able to fight but this man was strong.

I remember praying that he would end it quick, I didn't want to feel the pain and yet that's all I felt. Not the tears that ran down my face, or the flashes of my parents faces and knowing how it would be to loss them. It was only the blood from the knife that coursed the pain, this man's iron hold and the tangles on the once warm bed whose sheets refused to let me go even as he dragged me.

Kidnapping, I couldn't stand the thought and it was then that I suddenly came back to life. I somehow managed to get a arm free and still to this day I don't know how. I remember reaching out and knocking something to the ground the glass braking like the man now braking the window in his hast, I remember the door opening the fire of gun shoot and the strong arms now becoming weak.

The dead body on my bed and my father's arms around me, telling me that everything would be okay. But even as I sat there numb I knew it not to be, I knew this would be the night my life changed, for I knew I was now the hunted, the price to pay for everything that my father had done.

witch 06-02-2011 03:39 AM

(We now jump ahead, to a time were Evea is trying to find her heart. But after so long without love can she dare to dream? Can Golden be the one she loves and what about Evrard?)

Do I dare tell him, do I dare speak those three simple words? (laugh) simple. Simple is not even a word I use anymore.

I've been thinking about it for awhile, my heart won't let me stop but my head... the life I've lived tell me another wise so the question remains.

Love has never been good to me, I look back on those I've had, sheared and lost. Then when I think about... him... I look back through your pages and realize, I haven't even written about HIM.

The very person who touched my heart, work it and made me believe... God, if that what love is I'm better off without it.

But Golden, every time I see him I feel I'm whole again, like nothing else matters and I never laugh more then when I'm with him. Then there's Evrard... I know he can not love but that doesn't stop the feelings that are there with in me. It's different to what I feel for Golden and Evrard knows who I am.

I have a meeting with Golden tonight, up atop the tower, I guess I'll decided then.

witch 12-04-2011 04:33 AM

So much has happened since my last entry. First and four most my heart has been put on the line. I told him, I told Golden how I fell, that I love him... much good may it do me now.

For years I feared telling people the truth about my life, my past and what was no doubt still looming ahead but I thought, with that now behind me it was safe... what a fool. Safe is a four letter word and we of the press all know that four letter words are nothing but trouble safe, is one of those words that have many meanings.

That night still hunts me, plays over in my head. If only he had said something, anything stead of that cold look within those blue eyes as if I'd killed him, grown a second head... as if he were looking at a stranger, maybe he is.

We hardly say two words to each other, how is that friendship? I feel like I should leave but that is the one thing he tells me not to do with the simple words he does speak.

God, if this is what being safe is like I'd rather go back on the run. At least then I had a fair idea what lay ahead.

witch 02-28-2017 06:52 AM

Father once said:
"There are things about your past that you'll want to forget, things that will haunt you. You will try to outrun them, leave them behind locked away and left to the ages this will be your Pandora but like her, sooner or later someone will pick at that lock, let the evils free. It will be then your choice, you will stand at a crossroads will you continue to run or will you face it?"

I thought I had faced my past, beaten my demons and come out the other side I couldn't have been more wrong.

For years those eyes haunted me, the memory of his touch making my skin crawl. He was a nightmare but I thought I had left him, only to see his face again.

It was that painting, dame my mind for going back and dame him for ever making me believe. I can't help but wonder why he's back, why he pretends to be someone he's not....does he know?

I can't tell him, I will NEVER tell him.

06:56 PM

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