Arvin here again with another essay. well just trying to contribute. hope that this story is nice.

please do not copy it. it is a lot of hard work. thanks. oh and please do review, good or bad, but no major flaming please, so that i am motivated to write more or improve if any.

Those Heavenly Voices

"…to have people say when seen." Nicholas concentrated in getting the right pitch and emotion to end the aria which his mother taught him some time ago. His song died down in a slow decrescendo as he eventually had to breathe again. Nicholas was filled with elation that he managed to get his pitching correct from the start.

Nicholas Pere stood tall for a young boy of fifteen; he had emerald eyes and strawberry blonde hair that was tied up in a short, neat ponytail. He wore a broad grin on his handsome features most of the time and thus was greatly adored by the people of the small town he resided in. Nicholas was a son of a once renowned opera singer, Margaret Pere, from which he inherited his charming looks and powerful voice. His father went missing after he was born so he never knew him. Margaret gave the gift of song to Nicholas and indulged him with operas after operas and songs after songs since he was but a small child. Unfortunately, he would not be able to forge a living by singing since the only theatre for miles around was burnt down in a freak incident before he was born. Nobody had come to rebuild the beautiful titan near the town square.

As Nicholas sat halfway out of the window of his small, cosy room, staring dreamily into the clouds, his loud humming was abruptly interrupted by a holler from the kitchen downstairs.

"Nicholas," Margaret called out in a trained, strong voice of a soprano. "you are needed at Mr Mayfield's store. He requests that you deliver some goods to Mrs Thatcher's cottage and he's giving you 10 pence for your efforts."

He did not want to miss an opportunity to earn a little something for he was saving as much as he could to buy a fiddle. Nicholas grabbed his straw hat and rushed out of the house to Mr Mayfield's grocery store, only after telling his mother that he'll be back by dinner. He ran with almost worn out shoes on the uneven pavements of the town, passing by and occasionally smiling politely at those he knew. The streets were jammed with people on horseback, ladies going to the markets and children playing. It was certainly a lively sight. Nicholas reached Mr Mayfield's store and it's owner passed the eager boy a parcel wrapped in coarse brown paper and tied with hemp, he also slipped a shiny ten pence coin into Nicholas' pockets. With that , Nicholas walked out of the store, cautious that he did not spoil whatever was inside the plain-looking parcel.

It was somewhere in the mid-afternoon when Nicholas had finished running on his rewarding errand. The day had passed its climax and the lazy sun was almost about to set. The sky was still bright but a certain gloom was cast over it as clouds from the west began lolling in, it's translucence enshrouding the bright blue of the above. Nicholas walked down the narrow, grimy alleyway, flicking his shiny new coin with his thumb and index finger and catching it as it fell. He rambled through the town's many streets and alleys, observing all the townsfolk at their daily routines, he had more than enough time to get back in time for dinner and that made him long for a little escapade. He tucked the coin back into his trouser pocket, drifting through the town for any interesting thing to do.

Nicholas wandered a bit too far from the masses and soon found himself in a rather deserted area of the town, a place full of poverty, filth and unsightly streets. It was also where the once majestic Theatre Covent stood, now, an old, broken-down building, like a wilted rose, withered and battered by the winds and rain. It was not the first time he had seen the dilapidated structure. He took shelter for the night in the theatre when it started raining, and he could still remember his mother in hysterics on his return. Chuckling slightly, he went in for a quick glance. So immersed in his excitement, he did not realize the air was colder as he stepped through the cracked and weathered marble entrance.

"Wow…it was grander than I have seen before…" Nicholas recalled. He noticed the intricate carvings and dusty sculptures that lined the walls of the Grand Hall. Images of what could have been so many years ago in the Theatre Covent started flashing in his mind, and he imagined the dazzling array of bright lights, people and music that once graced it's halls, filling it with liveliness.

Margaret have often told her son of her old life in that theatre, when she was a high-spirited young woman, full of youth and vigour. The Theatre Covent was the largest and most majestic building that was ever built for miles around. It housed some of the best musicians, dancers and composers and it was of great privilege just stepping through its' great doors. Margaret was sent there to train and perform roles there at a tender age of nine. She lived half her life in the theatre. Everyday was a new adventure for her and her companions; there were more places to visit than the days of the year, secret passages that ran undiscovered throughout the buildings and witty humour of the stagehands. It was unfortunate, that such a gentle, mysterious giant could succumb to the fires caused by the careless hand of the new lamp lighter, and years of heartfelt memories were destroyed within a night. In the aftermath, it was reported that two people, a couple were claimed by the fires, both could not found after countless searches in every crevasse of the theatre.

Julien was the young man and Nadine, the young woman. Margaret recalled those two who were so close with her. She told Nicholas that they grew up with her and was close as brothers and sisters. Julien, Nadine and Margaret became professional singers and they could perform angelic trios through their beautifully melded voices and the bonds between them. It was unfortunate when during the fire, they were separated amidst the chaos. Margaret was pulled away by the surging human stampede while Julien and Nadine fell the other direction.

Nicholas snapped out of his reverie, calming the recollections that were evoked. He scanned the large abysmal cavity before him and shook his head with sadness and pity, with a final glance towards the huge half-burnt marble stairs, he turned towards his way out, and the only source of light that invaded these condemned walls. But before he could be enveloped back into the light, he was pulled back in darkness.

The whole time, it was awesomely silent, and then there was sound. Not just any mere sound, but something so exquisite and unique. Nicholas became lost to a song, which echoed throughout the cavity of a hall. Nothing he had heard was compared to that wonderful alchemy that made him feel that he had discovered a gushing river of liquid gold and washed his senses with a large wave of ecstasy. There was not one but two ethereal voices he could hear, and they sang like divine angels. At once, visions tore at his mind, he saw in his delirious mind, images of people dancing feasting and joyful celebration, which were engulfed in visions of death, horror and tumult. It seemed to him as if he knew it for a long time, that they were recollections of memories that were lost in this edifice.

Like a mindless puppet, lured by only the fragile yet alluring strings of the music that was spurned within the building, Nicholas went down to the cellars. He feet dragged but with little sound against the damp wooden floor, the air was heavy with despair and suffering that it clogged up his senses and made him susceptible to any danger that may befall upon him in that state. His eyes were blank and unfocused, like under a high level of hypnotism and his face, expressionless. He moved like a wandering ghost. It was no sooner than he realized when he came to his senses that he found himself standing in front of a scorched door with dim orange light seeping from underneath it.

Emotion came flooding into him the minute he went out of his hypnotic state, wonderment, being the strongest. But what he did next was entirely visceral rather than intellectual. In a paroxysm of curiosity and wonder, he opened the door to gaze upon two figures. One was standing, the other sitting on the dusty cobwebbed stool and both were singing their hearts out expressing their wretched agony.

They were the unfortunate Julien and Nadine who were trapped in the blazing inferno of so many years ago. Not a questioning thought came into Nicholas' mind; it was as if he knew all along that they were his mother's friends. The two looked so pale for they had not seen the light of the sun for years, their bodies so frail and sickly thin that a sudden gust of wind might blow them away. At once, fear started coursing though Nicholas as his eyes befell on their faces.

Their faces, one could not have imagined the depth of their sorrow and agony that were expressed on their faces, the emotions being mostly from their eyes. Their eyes were dark and lifeless. So much pain was held in those eyes that looked like bottomless pits. Those sorrowful eyes, which Nicholas looked into, made him fill nauseous and breathless. His heart felt so heavy that he though it might fall out of him and the sorrow and agony in those eyes were reflected in his own being. It reached his very heart. Nicholas staggered and grasped the doorframe for support.

"Are you scared of us?" the woman-ghost, Nadine questioned softly in an eerie manner, turning her head slightly.

"What's there to be afraid of us? We won't hurt the son of Margie." Julien referred his mother in her old nickname. He smiled with those crest-fallen eyes.

Before he fell onto the floor he heard them say in a singsong manner, " We just want you to sing with us…forever and ever."

Lithe steps advanced towards his fallen form and enveloped him.

The mansion was filled with a fresh new voice to last for eternity.