Past the Point Of No Return
Title: Past the Point Of No Return
Summary: Kimber Rivers has been shuffled from foster home to foster home after the sudden and unexpected death of her parents. On her sixteenth birthday, she is sent to live with an elderly man who is supposedly her great-uncle on her mother's side. She is taken into his lavish home and put in the care of Mrs. Pickering, the stern but kindly housekeeper. While exploring her new home, Kimber comes across a music box in the attic. Upon opening it, she is transported to the bustling world of 1870. It is in this world she is taken in by Madam Giry to be a servant in the Opera House, cleaning and preparing things backstage. It isn't long that after her first day, Kimber is introduced to an Angle of Music – a ghost in her vanity mirror who begins giving her singing lessons but what happens when Kimber's "Angel of Music" turns into her worst nightmare? Will she ever be able to return to the life she once knew? Or does she even want to?
A/N: I am not very confident when it comes to my writing but I'll try not to butcher this fandom too badly. Just to warn you, this is my first POTO fanfic so I hope you enjoy and positive/negative (if done kindly) is always welcomed.
Chapter One – No Turning Back Now
The rain beat against the taxi as it pulled up to the gated house that stood three stories tall. It looked of something out of a novel; the dark, ominous house looming up above sitting upon a hill, gated with an iron gate and covered in over grown ivy, rosebushes tracing the foundation. Kimber Daniels looked out the window and up at the house as she tried her best to bite back the nerves. This couldn't be where she was expected to live out the remainder of her days, was it? This couldn't possibly be…
"What do you think of your new home, Kimber?" Mrs. Kale asked as if having read the young girl's mind, "How gorgeous is that? Look at the darling rosebushes! Oh Kimber, you're going to love it here!"
"Yes because everyone just loves being thrown into another home, especially one with a bitter old man whom you know nothing of nor him of you!"
"Darling, this is your great-uncle…"
"On my mom's side. Yes, you've said that but I don't know this man. I don't even remember my mother speaking of him. She said she no longer had family."
"Well she must have forgotten about him. What did you say his name was?"
"Fredrick – Fredrick Leroux."
"Uncle Fredrick," Kimber rolled the name around on her tongue as if sampling it, "Sounds absolutely inviting!"
"Don't talk like that before even having met the man!"
"My mother would have at least said something about him if he were in fact worthy of meeting!"
"Kimber, where in the world are your manners? Now then, Mr. Leroux seems like a kind man when we first met…"
"That's what you said about the Emmett's, the Charmings, the Webber's, the Greer's, and the Smith's!"
"Kimber, please!" Mrs. Kale lifted a hand to silence her charge, "Now then, I want nothing but kind manners when you meet Mr. Leroux. After all, you don't want him changing his mind and forcing you back into another home now, do you?"
"Kimber! Now when we get up to the door, you are to shake his hand and be polite and pleasant."
"Good to see you aren't a total loss," Mrs. Kale smiled warmly at the girl she had come to love as the taxi pulled up to the gate and parked.
"This is as far as I take you, ma'am," the driver announced, "That's thirty-two fifty."
"Thank you," Mrs. Kale handed him the money and hopped out of the car to help Kimber with her baggage. It wasn't very hard considering that the girl only had one suitcase.
"Let's get this over with," Kimber rolled her eyes.
"Come on, he's a kindly man and elderly. He won't be any bother…"
"Watch him be an ol' grouch who will send me to the basement with a beating and a slice of moldy bread and vinegar to drink!"
"You read too many gothic novels my dear," Mrs. Kale shook her head as she walked Kimber up to the door, "Now go on child, ring the bell!"
"Why don't you?" Kimber challenged.
"Because this isn't my house."
"Nor is it mine!"
"Kimber, ring the doorbell," Mrs. Kale's voice was growing impatient with the girl's noncompliance.
"Fine," Kimber rolled her eyes and reached up to ring the bell. A few moments later, a woman appeared in a black dress and a white apron. She looked like she stepped out of the pages of a novel as well. Kimber wasn't honestly too surprised. After all, she half expected a creepy, overly-pale butler with a hunch to answer it.
"Hello?" The woman looked surprised to see the duo standing on the doorstep.
"Hello!" Mrs. Kale said cheerfully, "I am Mrs. Kale from the orphanage and this is Kimber. Kimber, say hello to the kind lady."
"Hello," Kimber looked up at the woman and waited for someone to invite her inside. The January air was crisp and the rain didn't help matters.
"Hello," the woman looked down her nose at Kimber, "May I ask why you are here?"
"She is the great-niece of Mr. Leroux. He contacted me the other day and…"
"He didn't mention a girl."
"Well Kimber is far from just a 'girl' ma'am. She is nearly seventeen and she doesn't need much attention. Just some love and care and a roof over her head and a place to call home."
"Please, come inside," the woman said, pushing the door open further, "Right this way. I will show you to the guest room which I suppose will be yours now."
"When do I get to meet Mr. Leroux?" Kimber asked. As much as she didn't like the idea of living with the man, she was anxious to meet her only living family.
"You won't. He is a very busy man and doesn't have time for children…"
"I am not a…"
"Kimber!" Mrs. Kale scolded, "Mr. Leroux is her legal guardian. I think he should be the one in her charge."
"Well that just isn't possible, ma'am," the housekeeper replied, "I am sorry but he is a terribly busy man. I will be her caretaker."
"I can take care of myself…"
"Kimber! That will be enough," Mrs. Kale shot her a look, "Now, I insist that I meet Mr. Leroux!"
"That isn't possible, Mrs. Kale. He is on his way home from a trip. Very busy man like I said."
"Alright, I do not have time for this! I will leave Kimber here and in a week I will return and check up on her. If things are not satisfactory and if I do not meet Mr. Leroux, her custody will belong to the state once again."
"I understand," the housekeeper nodded curtly, "Now then, let's not waste any more of your time."
"Thank you. Kimber, I'll be back next week, okay?" Mrs. Kale asked.
"Alright," Kimber shrugged as if it was no big deal that she was about to be thrown into a home she had never known.
"Be a brave girl, Kimber and most importantly, behave yourself, understand me?" Mrs. Kale asked, placing the girl's chin in the palm of her hand and gruffly tilting it up so that Kimber could not avoid her gaze.
"Good. I will see you next week."
Mrs. Kale turned and nodded to the housekeeper before heading back to the taxi. It wasn't until the taxi was pulling away from the house that she said a little prayer, hoping that this time it would be better, that this time Kimber Christine would finally have a home.
Back in the house, Kimber was being led up the flight of winding stairs to her bedroom. She bit her lower lip as she hauled the suitcase up the rickety old stairs.
"What is your name?" Kimber asked the housekeeper.
"Mrs. Pearce and that is what you will address me by. As for you, well I shall call you whatever I see fit."
Kimber had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something she knew she would regret. This was to be her home now and she did not want to find out what Mrs. Pearce was capable of if she was a bother.
"When will Mr. Leroux be home?"
"Tonight. But as I said, you will not be seeing him."
"What does he do?" Kimber asked before stopping herself.
"He, child, is a writer!" Mrs. Pearce announced proudly as if it was her own personal accomplishment.
"Well I've never heard of the man," Kimber said, her voice challenging.
"That, child, is because he hasn't been published yet!" The woman snapped angrily, "But he will. Mark my words, dear, he will. He locks himself up in that attic room and writes and writes and writes. You are never to speak to him nor are you to wander up to the attic. He does not need you mucking about in his life, girl."
"What is he working on?" Kimber asked.
"None of your business!" Mrs. Pearce turned on her, "You are about as nosey as they come, aren't you? I warn you my dear, keep your questions to yourself or you'll find yourself in a heap of trouble that I can assure you you won't want to be in."
"I was just wondering…"
"Quiet! Enough with your questions."
It was that very statement that made Kimber realize that Mrs. Pearce didn't know herself what Mr. Leroux did in his attic study. She decided it was best not to ask any more questions not wanting to find out what 'heap of trouble' she would be in.
Mrs. Pearce continued up the stairs and signaled for Kimber to follow her down the hallway. Kimber lingered for a moment at the stairs, looking up to the attic before hearing a clap and turning her attention back to the impatient housekeeper.
"This is to be your room," Mrs. Pearce announced as she opened a door.
Kimber looked inside and was amazed. There was a queen sized bed with beautiful white lace bedding, an antique dresser, a washstand, a small table, and a writing desk.
"I suppose I should explain the rules to you – no running, no shouting, no staying up later than ten, no slamming of the doors, not galloping down the stairs, no wandering about, no going into the kitchen except when meals are served which is at eight, noon, and seven, and of course, no going into the attic. Any infraction will result in severe punishment, understood?"
"Yes ma'am," Kimber nodded.
"Very well. I shall see you at seven then. Make yourself at home."
The woman left, letting the door slam on her way out – a rule which Kimber was not to break. Kimber put down the suitcase and began to look around the room. Everything seemed so clean, so dainty that she was afraid to touch anything. How ever was she supposed to 'make herself at home' in a house like this? Especially with a woman like Mrs. Pearce watching her like a hawk.
A/N: So is it worthy of reviews and a second chapter?