I do not own the song Kat sings in this chapter. Yes, I know what the song is actually about, but I felt it could be interpreted in many ways, and I may have changed a few words here and there. I put the video on the side, actually it's the lyric video. I didn't want to offend anyone with the actual video. But if you haven't heard this song you need to listen to it, and the real video is pretty great. I mean what it portrays and I love how Hozier openly expressed his views on the matter. Now that took balls.

Sorry this one is a bit short.

I still need to cast people!!!! Please help me!!!!

I'm running out of creative ways to say this: POTO IS NOT MINE!

And as always, comment and vote please!

Kat's POV

        Hours slowly turned to days and days turned to weeks. Before I knew it, it was the day before Christmas and I was forced to sit in the drawing room, at the piano, and sing carols for my crazy siblings. Of course most of the only songs I knew they had never heard of. I guess that's what happens when you're from the future...

        "Okay enough with the all the merry bullshit!" Damien said when I finished singing Silent Night.

        "Well what am I supposed to play?" I asked.

        "Try something on a more, dismal, note." Our heads snapped up to the doorway where our mother stood. "What?" She asked as if nothing happened.

        Her hair was in it's normal painfully tight up-do and her black gown hung loosely around her thin figure. She had grown paler than I remembered and her eyes were blood-shot as if she had been crying.

        "It's nice of you to come out of hibernation for the holidays." Damien said sarcastically.

        "Well I heard the three of you down here and I figured I should probably wish my only daughter a happy birthday." She said it as if the very thought exhausted her.

        "Thanks." I mumbled in sudden realization. I had been so preoccupied lately that I'd completely forgotten my own birthday.

        "You were born on Christmas Eve?" Ezra asked from his seat at the window.

        "She never told you? How, peculiar." Our mother said with a dull note of suspicion playing in her voice. 

        "I forgot." My voice came out in almost a whisper, as it always did when she was near.

        She walked to a seat near the window, and Ezra, that faced the piano and sat. "Hmmm-well are you going to play something?"

        Her eyes held my own shocked expression for few moments. "What do you want to hear?"

        "Like I said, something dismal." She said with a sigh.

        "And that ladies and gentlemen is the true meaning of Christmas!" Damien hollered and threw his hands up in the air.

        I ignored his sarcasm while Ezra shot him a dirty look. My mind was racing in an effort to find a song that would suit her taste. It took a few minutes but I eventually got the perfect idea. I was still angry with her and hated her with every ounce of my being, so I decided that pissing her off was the best route to take. I wanted to prove a point and I was out for blood. 

        My fingers lightly grazed the keys as I began the slow melody.

        My lover's got humour

        She's the giggle at a funeral

        Knows everybody's disapproval

        I should've worshiped her sooner

        Her expression ranged from shock to anger as I grinned deviously at her.

        If the heavens ever did speak

        She's the last true mouthpiece

        Every Sunday's getting more bleak

        A  fresh poison each week

        I knew what she thought I was trying to convey with this. It was all about power, dominance, it was almost animalistic. I wanted her to know, to see, that she could not control me, even though she thought she could. Her eyes were alight with a fresh flame as I continued to drive the knife in further.

        'We were born sick,' I  heard you say it

        I looked up from the keys to meet her eyes as I spat the line. My voice collapsed on its own beauty and turned into something much darker.

        My Church offers no absolutes.

        She tells me, 'Worship in the bedroom.'

        The only heaven I'll be sent to

        Is when I'm alone with you—

        She no longer meant anything to me and I was willing to end my own life if it meant she would end up in the lowest bowels of hell. It was where she belonged. Something told me that I had just given away our plans, I could see it in the cold depths of her eyes.

        I was born sick,

        But I love it

        Command me to be well

        Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen.

        I drug out the meaningless prayer. It amused me to watch her squirm under my stare for once.

        Take me to church

        I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

        I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

        Offer me that deathless death

        Good God, let me give you my life

        I repeated the chorus then allowed my fingers to come to a stop.

        "Would you like me to continue?" I asked her, my words filled with a venom I didn't know I possessed.

        "I think I've heard enough, thank-you." She replied, her lips twisted up in a sinister grin. "I believe I'll take my leave now."

        She stood, and instead of making a straight  path to the door, she took a round-a-bout way that involved walking right past me.

        "Two can play at this game." She whispered in my ear as she passed by me, it was barely audible but I heard every word.

        I allowed a slight smirk to take over my features. It was my way of telling her to bring it on. I turned back to the piano and began playing the melody of The Music of the Night. I didn't realize at the time that that decision was one I would regret until the day I die.

        As soon as I was sure she was out of earshot, I stood and walked over to Damien and Ezra.

        "Wow! That was a gutsy move." Damien said with a look of shock.

        "Yeah well I have a feeling I'm going to end up regretting that." I said honestly.

        "Short lived, but totally worth it." Damien smiled from ear to ear. I will never understand how he can be so cocky at times like these.

        I gave him a small smile before standing on my tip toes and whispering in his ear, "I need to go to the Opera Populaire, now."

        "Why?" He asked when I pulled away from him.

        "I just do. Can you get me there without her knowing?" I asked not wanting to give my motives away. 

        I needed to see Erik, I needed to let him know what was coming. We were no longer up against my mother, but a godless creature shrouded in the shell of what once was. I shook my head slightly at the thought, it was an odd thing to think, especially for a non-religious person like myself.

        "I'll see what I can do. Go get ready, I'll get you when it's time." Damien said and left the room.

        "What was all that about?" Ezra asked.

        "Nothing." I said, desperation still clear in my voice. God, Damien please hurry.

        With that I left Ezra and ran to my room to get Erik's music box. I had picked it up a few days ago, the man at the shop had been worried I wasn't coming back for it, but he'd kept it for me anyhow. It was a lot harder to get out of this god-forsaken house than I had originally anticipated.

        I reached my room and burst through the door, possibly a little too excitedly. The present was well hidden under my bed and wrapped in shiny black paper with a ridiculous red bow on top. I smiled down at it and hoped beyond all hope that he would like it. I placed the box carefully in my bag and slung it over my shoulder. 

        My arm began to grow soar as I stood and waited for Damien. The item didn't seem heavy when I was holding it with two hands, but now that it was suspended off my arm, I could feel every ounce of its weight. I decided to sit the bag down and began pacing the room.

        "Come on Damien!" I was muttering to myself when a light knock came from my door.

        I ran over and threw the door open. "Well it's about damn time!"

        Damien looked at me with a sly grin. "Quiet down, will ya? The whole idea of  'sneaking out' is to not get caught."

        "Valid point." I said in a quieter voice as I ran to grab my bag.

        "Ready?" Damien asked to which I shook my head.

        We tip-toed through the house and slipped out the backdoor and into the alley behind the house.

        "There's a horse at the corner waiting for us." Damien said now that we could talk without whispering.

        "Good. I thought we might have to walk there." I said with a sense of dread. This bag is heavy and our destination was on the other side of town.

        We raced down the ally and found a large black steed ready for our use. After he had helped me on, Damien stuck his foot in the saddle and hoped on, then we were off. He led the horse at full speed through the side streets of Paris. We made it to the opera house in record time.

        "Jesus." I said when we stopped, trying to catch my breathe.

        "Sorry, I like to ride fast. It's a lot more exciting." Damien grinned as he jumped off the horse.

        "It's fine. I'm just a little windblown, that's all." I said as he helped down.

        "Okay, go do whatever it is you wanted to do here. I'll be waiting at the cafe across the street." He said and, grabbing the horses reins, began to walk across the street.

        "If I'm not back by sundown, leave and come back at dawn." I called after him. I had a feeling this may take longer than a few minutes.

        He turned around and looked up at the sun that was beginning to sit. "You've got about an hour then. You know I don't normally like taking orders from anyone, but it seems you've hit a soft spot in this cold heart."

        I smiled at his honesty and yelled one last thing before entering the building, "A cold heart is a dead heart."

        "Happy Birthday!" I heard him yell as I stepped inside the opera house.