Gotham Sirens Poison Ivy s Rapevine
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The Perfect SolutionChapter 36: A Poison Tree free porn video
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad, I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.
"A Poison Tree" By William Blake
He attempted to calm her, but after the initial fit of laughter, Christine remained silent. Her white eyes seemed to stare at him, challenging him to speak, as she lay propped up against the headboard on pillows. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, holding her hands, his long, graceful fingers tracing nervous patterns on the backs of her hands. After a time, she shuddered and her eyes rolled back down. He gazed into her unseeing eyes as she sat next to him, but he could see that her mind was somewhere far away from him and her lips moved in silent conversation with whomever it was she could see.
"Oh, Christine, please come back to me."
He bowed his head and his eyes squeezed shut to banish the tears from his eyes.
"I am afraid, so very afraid..." The sound of his voice trailed away and the silence in the room only broken by the occasional hiss of Christine's breathing.
The woman rested her weary body in the embrace of the well-worn comfort of her beloved armchair. She stared into the depths of the flames that burned brightly in the fireplace before her. Her mind jumped from worrying over the daughter of her heart to concern for the daughter of her womb. She shivered and drew the belt on her robe tighter and awkwardly scooted her chair closer to the fire. She was so unused to worrying over Christine, as she had never seemed to need anyone in the years she had been at the opera house. To see the girl so openly in love stirred something in Antoinette ... something that frightened her and she did not understand the reason why. Her worry for Meg, she well understood the cause and only hoped that her child's heart would not be broken.
"Christine, now that is another matter entirely. On the day of her wedding, I thought I was free of worrying over her, but how can I not worry? I believe her husband has no idea of her past, but I do not know for certain what he knows. Merde! Christine does not even know her past completely. I tried to tell myself that the girl was simple. I tried to tell myself that the girl was mad. I only wish that either of those were true. I know the ghost showed itself to Monsieur Destler. He has no idea, but I believe the ghost was very much present and in control of Christine the night she and Monsieur Destler met. I believe only the presence of her Angel banished the ghost from her that night. And, ever since her young man asked her to marry him, the haunted look that was forever in her is gone from her eyes. I only hope that it remains gone, but I fear that is a foolish wish. The child is broken in two and it is only a matter of time or circumstance that will allow the Opera Ghost to rise from the depths of Christine's soul."
The woman closed her eyes and thought back to the day she found the child desperately clutching her father's remains. While it had been bitterly cold, death had still worked its cruel hand over the body of Christine's beloved father. Antoinette shivered as she remembered the bloated and blackened corpse the girl refused to release from her small hands.
"It is a wonder her mind ever found a way out of the darkness that claimed it."
The girl that Antoinette guided through the motions of the funeral was not the bright and bubbly child that she remembered from a visit to the Garnier the previous summer. The girl was brusque, angry and sullen. When the woman tried to dress the child for her beloved Papa's funeral, she had lashed out at Antoinette and cut her cheek. Antoinette considered herself fortunate that only her cheek received injury as she suspected the intent of those wildly flailing hands was to gouge out the older woman's eyes. The child struggled and fought Antoinette with the strength of madness, all the while screaming that her father was not dead. She had also cursed Antoinette, using language that shocked the woman.
"Where she heard such things, I have no idea. I know that Gustave never used such words."
She shook her head sadly.
The child seemed to emerge from the spell that held her in its grasp after she had been at the opera house for several months. She would on occasion, seem to slip back into a silent darkness, but for the most part, Christine had been so quiet and reclusive, Antoinette had allowed the girl to do as she wished.
"If I had just paid more attention to her, perhaps I would not be so worried now, but life was hectic. Meg was only five years old and between working and caring for the girls' physical comforts, I had little time to worry over Christine's reticence. In a way, her silence was a relief, but then ... then, when Christine was 16, the 'accidents' began."
It had begun simply enough, scraps of parchment dropped from the flies with childish scrawling in blood red ink ordering different members of the ballet corps or the chorus to improve their performance. After the notes, came the pranks ... Pointe shoes missing or with the ribbons tied into horrendous knots, costumes switched or torn and props forever "misplaced."
"It seemed harmless. And, damn me to Hell! I even encouraged it by asking her to add things to her notes, but then Carlotta came to the Populaire. The foolish Italian diva not only paid no attention to the opera ghost's demands, she mocked the ghost."
And, the ghost fought back. The woman's wigs were ruined, her costumes slashed into ribbons, she found her dog locked in a trunk that had no key, ties removed from her much-needed corsets and her stage make-up replaced with backdrop scenery paint. The diva, however, refused to bow to the ghost's demands and steadfastly ignored the warnings contained in the notes.
"Oh, yes. She scoffed at my concern over her paying no heed to the warnings contained in the ghost's notes. She loudly proclaimed she did not fear the ghost and refused to listen even to the managers' concerns for her safety. She laughed at all of us. She even ridiculed me before the cast and crew just before she went on stage the night she played Juliet. She derided me for only wishing her to be safe. The ridiculous woman could not sense the tension seething in the air that night, not until it was too late."
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