A Picturesque Score of Passing Fantasy

"Don't you look just absouluetly marvelous?" Anjelah exclaimed. She clipped a small strand of hair back into its place.

"You will be the envy of all the little girls tonight. They'll all want to look like you!" Anna giggled, "Wait! One more thing!" she took a small tiara out of the box next to her. It looked like a vine, there were silver flowers and silver leaves on it, "Wear this."

"Anna..." I murmered, "It's beautiful."

"Miss-" someone barged into the room, "I mean ladies." it was Bruno. We all chuckled at him. He turned red, and I couldn't help but notice his make up looked especially extravagant today.

"Hello Bruno." I smiled in his direction.

"Miss Clair." he bowed politely, "Now for the news, someone called for you. They want to go over show stuff with you before the Masquerade."

"Someone?" I questioned. A sick feeling caught in my throat.

"Brendon I mean." he said, the sick feeling went away, "Or at least I thought it was Brendon, I mean I am pretty sure it was him. It was dark." the sick feeling returned.

"Oh..." was all I could say. My brain told me that staying away was a good idea, but my legs found their way over the door anyways, "Where did he want to meet me?"

"The stage." Bruno was sure of himself. I nodded and started making my way toward the stage. I immediately noticed that the theatre looked somewhat different, oh yeah. The decorations.
The dusty, faded red curtains were replaced with vibrant, new ones.
The walls had a new coat of gold paint on them.
The old dripping candles were replaced by new white candles.

Everyone was rushing around, getting to their places, running last minute practices of their acts. I stole a glance outside.
The London streets were full of hustling and bustling people.
Women in faux fur coats.
Men in designer tuxedoes.
Children in their best attire.
It was raining.
Women complaining on how their faux coats were getting wet.
Men complaining on how their tuxedoes were getting soggy.
Children laughing and playing around. They could care less about their clothes.
And everyone was permitted to wear a masquerade mask.

I immediately remembered I had to meet Brendon. I scurried over to backstage. I was expecting him to be waiting there for me. But no one was there. It was oddly quiet, like there was no people. But there was a weird dripping noise. Dripping noise?

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

It was comming from the stage. I walked up the small flight of stairs that led to the main stage. It was dark. No lights, except for the light coming from the windows. That light reflected off the diamond chandeliers. Scattering shards of light in randome areas. The whole theatre seemed kind of like you were in the stars.
Then I saw it.
A ray of light illuminated it for a split second, but it was just enough time for me to realize what it was.
A pool of thick red liquid was forming in the dead center of the stage.

Ploop.
Plop.

The red liquid dripped down her pale neck and down her white-now-red silk dress. The blood oozed down her leg and stained her ballet slippers.
Isabella.
Above me.

She hung by her neck.
The Phantom had murdered her.