All I Ask Of You

Chapter 1

The wind whistled in the trees above me as I pulled my worn-down old sweater tightly around myself.

I clutched a letter in my hands tightly as if it were my lifeline, which in a way it was. The letter was written in my Mom's messy, cursive handwriting, her having to quickly write it down, before placing it in my hands.

I could feel the memory breathing down my neck, threatening to take over my mind. The glass shattered across the floor, beer bottles overflowed in the trash can, the sound of my Dad screaming at us, crashing things to the floor in a drunken rage. My mother how she broke down in front of me crying, how she couldn't stand it anymore and sent me away with a letter in my hands, and now here I was standing in front of the Opera Populaire.

I raised my arm and wiped my running nose on my sleeve before placing my hand on the doorknob, slowly turning it and the door opened with a creak.

I stepped inside looking around myself the candles flickering from the golden chandelier above me, behind it being an intricate image of the sky filled with angels and saints. My worn-down boots echoed softly against the marble floor as I walked across it towards the stairs, looking around myself for any sign that anyone was there.

I climbed up the red-carpeted stairs, coming to the center at the top of them where two hallways, one on my right and left, with oil lamps against the pink walls for light greeted me.

I went to my right, cautiously knocking on the first door, hoping that someone would answer.

To my relief, someone did, a strict-looking lady her black hair pinned back tightly in a bun. Wearing a light red robe wrapped around her white nightgown, and holding a black cane in front of her answered, looking as if I had disturbed her from sleep, which I most likely did.

"Yes?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Excuse me, Madame, but I was wondering if the owner of the opera house was still here?" I said as I fiddled with the letter in my hands anxiously.

The lady shook her head.

"No, Monsieur Lefèvre left hours ago, but perhaps I can be of assistance, I'm Madame Giry?"

I handed her the letter as soon as she offered to help and she took it from my hands but looked at me expectantly.

"Well, child are you going to tell me your name?"

"My name's Celeste, Madame," I responded as I watched her start to read the letter.

After Madame Giry was done she looked back at me.

"What talents do you have that'll be of use to the opera house?"

I sighed, knowing the answer I had to give, even though I didn't want to, it made my heart ache too much, there were so many sad memories attached to it that I couldn't stop from thinking of them. But it's the only thing I can think of.

"I-I can sing."

She looked at me up and down, then nodded her head and opened the door wider.

"We shall see if you can, come in."

I entered the room where there was a small bed pressed up against the wall by the door, a nightstand beside it with paintings of faraway places, and a chocolate brown wooden wardrobe across from the bed, near a large window with cream-colored curtains closed shut over it.

"Now," Madame Giry spoke as she sat at the edge of her bed. "Do you know any opera songs you know you can sing well?"

I immediately thought of my Mother her favorite opera being the Magic Flute, especially a song that she would often hum the tune or even try to sing. It was one of her favorites and it became mine as well.

I knew I could sing it, I had heard Mom singing it often enough to know the lyrics by heart.

"Oui, Madame,"

she nodded her head.

"Very well, sing."

She waited patiently as I took a deep breath, pushing down the memories of my past, standing up straight with my head held high, not even knowing if I'd be able to hit the notes, but I had to try.

I lifted my voice trying my best to hit every note, but knowing without a doubt that I would miss some, I just prayed I would sound good enough.

The high note for a second time, I could feel my chest tighten as I sang the notes.

Madame Giry raised her hand stopping me from singing anymore, which I was relieved for as I didn't know if I could.

I breathed heavily, trying to catch my breath as she looked at me a thoughtful look on her face.

"That was beautifully done, of course, it wasn't perfect but within time and with a good teacher, it will be."

I couldn't help but smile at the compliment, feeling a sense of accomplishment filling my chest at her words.

"Thank you, Madame."

Madame Giry nodded her head, standing up and walking towards the door.

"Now I will show you to the dormitories, I'm sure the girls will make you feel right at home."

I followed her down the hall, and up a metal winding staircase that led to a door that was cracked open, with the voices of girls whispering to one another.

As she opened the door the voices stopped and they all turned to look at me from their beds, which pressed up against either side of the wall, only giving enough gaps in between them for a dresser.

"Bonjour, ladies, tonight we have a new girl, Celeste, who will be joining us here at the opera house, I expect you all to show her hospitality and to be kind, understand?" Madame Giry told them sternly.

"Yes, Madame Giry," They all responded in unison.

One of the girls came up to me, a soft smile on her face.

"Bonjour Celeste, my name's Christine, I can show you to your bed."

I nodded my head and followed her.