It's the year 1880 and for many decades  now I've walked this earth alone. I've traveled over sea and land and I call no country my home, I call no human my friend. Man has hated me for my horrible deformities and I hate him for scorning me. I have come back to Paris the home of my birth. I helped Charles Garnier build the Paris Opera house. The Opera is now my home, five cellars below in a labyrinth of dark swirling chambers that stretch on forever into the unending night. I dwell there composing on my opera Don Juan Triumphant, but I feel empty inside. I can not survive on my music alone I need something more. I wish I new what part of me was missing and how I could extinguish this pain I feel inside. I truthfully have grown lonely. I never though I'd miss my days in Persia, but as the silence grows defining I feel the sting of loneliness grow ever more around me. 

       I walk slowly to the ground level taking every step slowly as my heavy feet hit the ground.  There is a review at the opera tonight. There will of course be the lamentably unorganized dancing from Polyeucte and the monstrosity of Faure and Krauss. At least Gounod will be conducting 
the Funeral March of Marionnette. Reyer will probably save the entire show with his Danse Macabre. Oh I hope the singers are on key to night I can not bare to hear their screeching high pitched tones another night. At least Carlotta is only in one scene tonight. I don't know how much more I can take that Prima  Donna. 

         I am Christine Daaé, a girl from the corps de ballet. I have been in the Opera for a few months and I am so glad to be here. It was always my Papas dream that I may sing here. Sure he might be disappointed that I am just a chorus girl and not a Diva. But Papa, please give me time. Please send me the Angel you spoke about.

         Soon rehearsals are going to begin. I am so excited. Meg and I are the leading girls. I love to listen to Carlotta’s voice. She has such a lovely voice, it soars so brilliantly. I wish I could sing Like her. I sigh and begin to get dressed. I do not like that ballet dresses; they make me look fat and ugly. And I do not like pink at all. I prefer blue. I sigh. Stop dreaming Christine, get dressed or you will be late for rehearsals….. again. Deep in my thoughts I start to sing Carlotta’s song, but I stop soon, hoping she didn’t hear me. She doesn’t like people singing her songs.

       I look at myself in the mirror. I am pale and thin, but in this dress I look like a peace of  candy. I shudder and turn away to make my way to the stage for rehearsals.

  It was a cold morning when I arrived to Paris. I was not used to such

cold mornings, before I came to Europe - the nights in Persia were so

warm as the days here... But anyway, it was better to be chilled in

Europe than dead at home. There were things I had to think of... my

country...my family... There were also things I wouldn’t want to

recall, but they kept on haunting my mind.

Paris was a nice city - one of those I would like to explore - and I

decided to stay for at least one week, as I was really very tired

of traveling. First I had to find a nice, but cheap hotel or

flat to rent ...yes, I needed a cheap one. Though I was

accustomed to living in my own comfortable palace, since I had to run

away from Persia, I had a dishonorable little amount of money. And I felt

upset...sad...lonely...without roots... Maybe to stay at one place

for a time and trying to enjoy myself a bit would help, and the

capital of France was almost ideal. I considered Paris a good place

to stay... French was the only European language I could speak well -

besides Russian, but Russia was just too close to my native country -

what means too dangerous for me to live in. Thanks Allah Erik taught

me French... Sometimes I miss him...then I curse

myself ...enšallah...why?

As usual, people stared at me while walking across the streets, but I

decided not to care. I shall make it a rule not to care what people

think about me - or I would have to go mad.

So I had a little walk by the river, then visited one museum and my

sightseeing ended finally at the Parisian opera house. Hmm...I have

never seen an opera before...but... well, it might be interesting. I

stepped in, in order to get some tickets for today evening performance. If only

they weren’t so expensive... this stupid lack of money.

After half an hour spent by searching at the opera house I finally

discovered where one could buy the tickets. The old woman who sell

them examined me as an odd thing - bet she had never seen a man of a

complexion darker than cottage cheese -how enjoyable. And how open-

mouthed did she look at me after I told her, I would like to have a

ticket for this evening?! Never mind.

With a slight hesitation she opened a book, trying to look if

they had any seats free. After a while, she raised her head and shrugged her shoulders apologetically.
         "Je me excuse, monsieur... Full house for this evening. You are too late."

I looked at the today’s page in her book.

          "But I see there IS one unmarked place... Here", I pointed with my finger at an empty row in

the book, annoyed. I was sure she didn’t want to give me any tickets

because of  I was a foreigner.

          "Oh..." she seemed to be somewhat frightened. "But these seats are in

box five... I never sell any tickets for this box."

           "Why not?" I asked, wondering.

This was so... mysterious... How I have always

loved mystery! She leaned to me a bit, her voice almost

Inaudible.

             "Because of the phantom. It is the opera ghost’s

box!"

              "What???" I almost fell on the floor laughing.

I just couldn’t grasp how people can believe in some ghosts. It was so childish!

               "You must have been joking."

               "It’s no joke!" the old woman said, an earnest countenance in her

face. Was she really crazy?! This turned out to be really

interesting...

               "Too many odd...random...happenings in recent

times. It is a work of that Opera Ghost. The managers even received threatening notes...and when these are not accepted, another mishaps

comes."

Strange, all these old people love to gossip....

   "Ah? And did anyone see or hear this ghost?"

This problems were probably caused by a human being, which was most likely someone from the opera staff - this is classified.

 “Oh, there are lots of narratives about his

appearance", she whispered again. "Some of the ballet girls say they

have seen him... As told, his eyes dazzle in the dark...he wears

black and a mask on his face. It is also told that who heard his

voice, shall never forget it."

I stayed still and this poor woman became frightened. "But, please,

don’t tell anyone it was me who told you - we shall not speak about

the phantom again. The managers are afraid that less people would come to

the opera then..."

            I didn’t pay much attention to her words in that moment, as there was

something alarming in my mind. Why, why does this description remind me

of someone I knew before? No. This is just an old woman’s fairy tale,

there’s no ghost. And if there is a ghost? Then...

Then I am curious to see him.

             "In fact, I am not afraid of ghosts, witches and dragons. There’s no problem with me and the seats in box five." And I got one. 

be-salaamat

    Lucy enters the famed Opera House of Paris. As she steps into the
doorway, her breathe is taken from her at the beauty of it all. She had
heard stories of this place, and read many articles that had reached
her even in her homeland of Scotland. But nothing could prepare her
for what she all saw at this moment. The red carpet, and the amazing
gold statues everywhere were stunning! As she continues through
towards the grand staircase, she nearly bumps into a stately gentleman
who to is going up the stairs. She blushes at him and makes her
apologies to him as she walks up the red staircase. Turning left, she
sees a man standing in front of the door that leads into the
theatre. He is dressed in black, and bows slightly to her as he takes
her ticket, and watches her enter. Next a women takes her ticket and
leads her to her seat, near the front of the theatre. Lucy gets chills
at the beauty of such a theatre, never has she seen anything like this
before. And she has been to many a theatre before. Gently she takes her
black cloak off, revealing a maroon long dress, and allowing her
flaming red hair to fall in gentle waves down her back.

The managers couldn't have been more pleased. A full house tonight!

It is quite amazing, the number of people in this city who can

afford to dress so lavishly and come to the opera, night after

night. It was an extremely busy night for all who worked at the

opera. The ushers were nearly going out of their minds trying to get

everyone seated correctly. Of course, I was nearly as busy as them,

although I have no where near the number of people to look after. I

am a box keeper and must therefore put up with the whims of the rich

who come to the opera to be seen and look wealthy. I checked the time.

The ghost would be arriving in his box soon. He

usually came around the same time every performance. I made my way

down the hallway, stepping aside often so as not to be flattened by

the wealthy, searching for their seats. As I arrived at Box Five,

the crowd began to thin. It wasn't long until curtain. I waited

outside the door. If he had instructions for me, he would give them

now.  Imagine my surprise when I saw a man with very dark skin walking

right toward me. It was strange to see such a man in a place like

this. I went up to him with the intention of helping him to find his

seat.

            "May I have your ticket, sir, that I might direct you?"

            "Bonsoir" I spoke a bit taken aback... as a child caught by doing

something forbidden, when the woman all in black with a severe look

spoke to me. Maybe I was right by that feeling... this was truly not

a place where I would belong to.

But a few seconds later I realized that she would probably tell it to

anyone... The noblemen are always showed to their seats there! How

odd... I have always considered myself for a nobleman... when I had

been one. Here I was nothing and begun to think about me as about a

nothing. Why should I underrate myself just because others do? No way!

I smiled politely and handed her my ticket. "Of course... Here."

          He handed me his ticket. I almost felt sorry for the poor man, he seemed so self-conscious here. Of course he would, he wasn't exactly one of the normal crowd that comes to the opera.

         I looked down at his ticket and my heart nearly stopped beating. My hand flew to my heart as I struggled not to panic. How was this possible? Everyone knew not to sell a ticket such as this!

"Sir...I'm sorry, but there must be some mistake... No one sits in Box Five."

            I was particularly depressed on this night. I had caught wind of the Opera owners discussing leaving and this made me quite angry. Who was to take their place? Would they believe in an Opera Ghost who demands an allowance of 12,000 francs a month? All the stress of them leaving was building up inside of me. Their deparcher may very well be the end of the Opera Ghost. I could not let this happen. Where would I go? How would I live?

            I was quite looking forward to a nice night relaxing in my box receiving my allowance form Madam Giry, bless her sole, but that infernal child of hers. Always spreading roomers about me to little Jammes and the other ballet girls. Hahaha oh well, where there is roomers there is a legend and legend are hard to destroy. As I entered the underground pillar walkway that led to my box, I heard Madam Giry’s voice. She seemed distressed.

Probably some fool trying to persuade her to let them sit in Box 5 because we sold out. I trusted Giry because she always turned them away and for that alone I leave her a nice tip on my seat when I leave after the show. Perhaps tonight I should leave her a rose as well; this fellow seems to be mighty persuasive.

            What’s that??? The voice of the man who is begging her to let him sit in my box, I’ve heard it before. I know I have. Somewhere along my travels, but who is it??? The ascent is strictly Persian. Some one form the court? No, no……Wait could it be my old alley?................. Daroga?

                I had to shake my head. It was here again. Now she will tell me the "ghost stories" for sure. But something wasn't all right here - this woman didn't seem to be mad at all and - though she was older than me, she also wasn't THAT old to believe in those old wives tales. No. She looked very serious. They must have some reason for telling this! Perhaps there really was something... But in this case it will be impossible for her to get rid of me, because when I am interested in something, it never lets me in peace before I find it out. All at once I didn't feel so unsuitable anymore... "When none one sits there, it means it's unoccupied and I see no reason why couldn't, I have paid for my ticket and I have also heard about the Ghost..." I told her before she begun to explain it herself. "Believe me, I saw worse things than your Ghost could possibly do. Some people are more evil as any unearthly being. Besides, I believe in no Ghost, but if there is one, it will be my pleasure to share a box with him." I just hoped she will not be punished that she let me go to a box they never sell tickets to, but anyway it was a mistake of the woman who sold me the ticket and definitely not hers.

     This is most amusing, Mme. Giry is trying her hardest to keep Daroga out of my box and here I most certainly would like to see him again. I see he still has not mastered the French trills with his think Persian accent.  Maybe I'll just see what Madam Giry does. She is always very persuasive, but then again there is no other seats available.  Perhaps I should let Daroga have my box it is the best seta in the house after all.

       I simply knock on the door to the out side of my box and disappear into the pillar start case and descend into the hidden space for the show. Perhaps I shall meet with him after the show if I so wish. What is Daroga doing in Paris any way and do I really want him eavesdropping on my affairs. Maybe it's best not to reacquaint myself with him.

          I fire begun to burn in my dark eyes. I was not about to give up... "I truly understand you, but I tell you once again, I am not afraid. The only thing I am afraid of is, that I will loose my money - and I am truly not that rich - which I have paid for a seat like this, wanting to see a glimpse of your culture." I wanted to continue speaking, but then my ears caught a sound which intruded my words... It seemed like something...someone was knocking on the door! Someone who was IN the box. My eyes widened and I stayed chilled for a few seconds, but I came to senses very quickly again and stepped closer to the door. Allah, I need to know what's going on here! "I am sorry if I am causing you any problems, but look: you have warned me - but I still want to risk entering the box, so when something happens to me, it will be just my fault. And anyway nobody cared if I'd die or such - there would be just one Persian fewer on the world." I was used to be outspoken and I still was such. My hand grasped for the handle and I truly hoped she will not try to fight me.

            Before I could respond to the man's statement, his hand was on the handle, ready to enter Box Five. But I had heard the ghost knock. Surely this was some kind of sign. He must know what was happening. Perhaps he wanted me to just...let it be.

           Trembling with anticipation, I made the decision not to restrain the man from entering the box.

          "May the ghost forgive me..." I whispered.

           Poor Giry I probably gave her a terrible fright knocking on the door like that, but I did not know how else to signal her that it was ok to let Daroga in. I watched him quietly threw a small sliding slat in the pillar. He entered the room with some anticipation probably thinking he’d find a ghost. I watched as Madam Giry shook her head and shut the door behind her. Poor old woman I put her threw so much and she has always treated me with the up most respect and for that I am grateful. I should tip her double tonight. Of course I do not know how much longer I will be receiving my allowance if the new Opera owners do not like the idea of a Ghost running the show. Let’s hope there particularly superstitious and quite gullible. I turned to the stage as the orchestra started up. Well this is just like the old days before I ventured out of the pillar and in to box 5 for shows, but back then I did not have madam Giry to uphold my legend.  I do hope the show is not boring tonight my seat is not the most comfortable.  Daroga you better appreciate the kind hospitalities of the Opera ghost.

           I got no reply from the woman in black, which I explained to myself as a permit to enter the box and so I did. She was left alone in the corridor, probably swearing about me as she closed the door. How wonderful it was in the box...all the gold and red velvet...and the beautiful sight on the stage and whole theatre! But, to my great regret - the box was empty. What did you think, you fool? I thought for myself. That their Phantom will await you in his box with a bunch of flowers in his hands? A smile twisted my lips as I imagined this picture. The performance shall begin in a few minutes... perhaps I should rather calm down? I choose one of the red seats and sat down... But my mind was still in a hurry. As told, I don't believe in Ghost - which means a human being has knocked on the door a while before. But where could he or she go to? Certainly not climb down, it was very high... There must be something...an another entrance. Perhaps a secret door? My eyes begun to examine the walls but soon it was not enough for me and I had to stand up and go closer, beginning to knock on one of the walls slightly. Maybe I will hear a sound showing me it was hollow? If not, I can try the other...

    It was my vice to be late. I had it down to an art form in fact.
Always arriving minutes, even hours late, and somehow just seconds
before my absence caused any serious problems.

Needless to say I was late again. My brother would be unhappy with
me. Tomorrow morning I could expect to find a gift from him in my
dressing room; a pocket watch. I had received many, many, many....
MANY such gifts from him in the past.

I had quite a collection of pocket watches. The tradition had gotten
so bad that some of my close friends had taken it into their heads
that I liked them for some reason. Now all I ever received as a gift
of any occasion was a pocket watch.

As it happened, I was wearing a very fine watch tonight, brindled
gold with studded diamonds in the face and chain. Unfortunately, it
was telling me that five minutes of the overture had passed and I
would likely be in much trouble.

But! At least I looked nice! And I had gotten some work done tonight,
which is more than I could say for other nights this week. Certainly,
it wasn't much... Just a short monograph on the use of contrasts and
metaphors in Herman Melville's 'Moby-Dick'. I had finished reading it
last week. Once I returned the copy to the Library, I would buy it
and add it to my collection. It really was quite interesting for
something written by an American some thirty odd years ago.

There was another thing my brother thought was strange in me. I read
altogether too much, and wrote even more. If it wasn't scholarly
papers, it was poetry. If it wasn't poetry, it was thoughts on
whatever happened to catch my fancy. Writing is not a good thing for
one of my position to do, he would say. He said if I wrote less, I
would be on time more. I dare say he was right. A good ninety percent
of my pocket watch collection I attributed to my writing. At least, I
was kind enough to publish my papers under a false name. I was always
telling my brother that he should be thankful I didn't write like
Lord Byron did.

At the moment? It was a stalemate. And I was now eight minutes late.
The carriage stopped and I hoped out as quick as I could and raced
into the building, not stopping, just racing my way up the grand
staircase to the familiar hallway leading to the private boxes. Ours
was number Six. I turned accordingly, not expecting anyone in the
hallway to hamper my progress.

My mistake.

The box keeper was there. It was a great and tremendous feat of
athletic ability that allowed me to avoid crashing into her.
Unfortunately it involved me skidding sideways, and falling against a
beautiful oaken side table that was holding up a vase of flowers. It
also involved me cracking my head painfully on the sharp edge, as I
was a bit awkward on my feet when I lost control of them and couldn't
really stay as upright as I wished to.

I DID save the vase though. I was quite proud of that. Setting it
back on the table, I stood a bit shakily, turning sheepishly to face
the box keeper.

"I do beg your pardon. You will forgive me my bad manners, I hope?"

I lifted a hand to run it through my hair, trying to return my
tousled appearance to something a bit more reputable. It surprised
me to feel something wet and sticky on my fingers...

My head was bleeding.

"Oh, drat... that isn't good..."

          Behind the stage was lots of excitement. Everybody was rushing by. I tried not to be in the way, but I always manage to be directly in the way. A few workers yelled at me already so I hid in a dark corner.

        I heard the orchestra start to play and knew that soon the ballet has to appear. Slowly I approached the other ballet girls and we greet each almost shyly. I stand almost alone. I have no friends here. Everybody finds me strange somehow. Maybe I am. I am just... lonely and shy.

         I tried my best to situate myself comfortably in the pillar with out making any reminisce noise. Just as I got comfortable I see Daroga poking around the pillar. He stared right at me threw the slat, but it was so dark he could not see me.  Go away Daroga there is nothing to see here. I grumble if he finds me that inquisitive Persian,  I'll have to do something irrational. Go sit down leave the pillar alone Daroga don't make me do something I'll live to regret. Just as I was ready to attach. The chandler dimmed and the curtains opened.  Daroga looked away from the pillar and sat down in the red velvet chair. The corps de ballet came out on stage with Meg in the lead and what's this, another girl, one I had not seen before was next to her. She seemed vacant and scared. Who was she?  I was not informed there was to be an addition the the ballet team.  As I leaned forward to get a better view something out of the corner of my eye was fidgeting and disturbed my senses. It was coming form Count Philippe's box. It was his immature younger brother Comte de Chagny who always was late. Quite the attention getter that one. Of course everyone near him and a cross form the box saw his entrance.  He should be on stage he has quite a presses about him. Well at least the audience thinks so.  He eventually settled down and I went back to trying to figure out who this new girl was. Now that Daroga has so kindly taken my box I was with out a program. Perhaps Madam Giry would bring one by for him. In which case I shall confiscate it and find out who this mysterious child is.

          I was sure there was something... a way out... But after a while spent by investigating the walls the lights dimmed and I have to return to my seat - unsuccessful. Will there be any intermezzo? I didn't know, but hoped so, because then I could try to find out, how it really was with this box later. The curtain was drawn back and in the next moment a wonderful sight of the flamboyant scene and sweet girls all in white spread on the stage in front of my eyes. Now when I was eased, I could fully enjoy the beautiful music and dance. Well... luckily I really liked it, otherwise I would be disgusted that I've paid so much money for it. Where are the days when beautiful girls danced in face of me without paying for it just in order to please me... When I could take them home...yes... again just in order to please me... Not that I would do it so often. Most of the men in my country believed, a women's soul was not more important than a cat's one... But I will never consider the women for something second-rate. Because I have loved - yes, I have loved twice. I lost twice. I was sure it won't happen anymore - not in this country, but truly I couldn't say if I regret it or no. I think I wouldn't want another deep relations. Maybe something just for fun... something which would feed up the senses without touching the heart. I glimpse back to the girls on the stage. Most of them are still children... Then I bethink the women in black, which didn't want to let me in the box. I was really impolite to her... Maybe I should find her during the intermezzo instead of searching for some hidden places and apologize? I shall think about it later... Now let's listen to the voices and instrument which float in perfect harmony.

       The lights dimmed and the curtain opened. I got excited, as usual. All the ballet girls went on stage and I fell in a kind of trance, I just acted mechanically, doing my dance. All went smooth and fine, thank heavens. So Carlotta's aria started and we all just laid on the floor so we could take some breathes.

    I took the stage slowly, my body filled with the energetic love of my
audience, and the limelight.  On nights like this I was reminded of
why I had done so much to come to Paris.  Here, in the Palace
Garnier, I now reigned as queen!

    I paid no heed to the lingering rats left to watch in place as I
sang, nor even to the prompter's box.  It gave me great pleasure to
have no need of him, even moreso to sneak glimpses of his obvious
anger.  'You shall follow *my* lead!' the retort came to mind with a
grin that slightly showed as I sang.

    Tonight I had to be thankful this was but a tragic lover's
song.  As of late I was finding the more lilting comedies harder to
manage.  Oh those idiot composers, trying to measure themselves
against each other by manipulating voices through leaps and bounds of
near impossible 1/32 notes!  No matter....I would get by as I always
have.  I'd managed my place within the opera for several seasons and
I would be damned not to continue several more!

    I continued singing, my determination pushing me to full force!

        As Carlotta entered on to the stage the crowd went wild. What do those untalented people know any way. They would not know a sharp from a flat. And believe me Carlotta was the queen of Sharps.  I never quite understood why so many Opera patrons loved her. She had stage presence, but her voice? Oh she sounds like a little squirt she should have never left the Ambassa Deurs and the Café  Jacquin. 

        Trying my best to pallet Carlotta's voice I noticed Daroga very intently watching the Prima Donna. I could see his interest in the young ballet girls, but a plump diva? 

       I started to wonder where Madam Giry had gone off to. Perhaps she was scared of what would happen to her for giving my box to a Persian. Well it was now apparent I'd have to go fetch a program on my own.  So I descended the stair case in the pillar to the box bellow where I found an older patron with a girl half his age sitting next to him. they were cuddling quite close. I could easily steal their program with out them noticing.  I opened the secret passage behind the box's certain and reached out to the seat next to them where the program was laying.  They did not even budge. As I turned to close the passage back up I stopped in amazement, the young girl had leaned over to the older man and kissed him quite passionately on the lips. Oh god would I ever know what love was. Would I ever know what a kiss felt like. Was I doomed to live a life of solitude under this infernal untalented opera house. I found myself frozen in my tracks. I could not move. I was getting scared they'd see me. I'd have to try and pull my eyes from them. Just as I realized nothing not even sheer will would yank my heart from their embrace. I heard the most angelic voice. 

      I had not even realized I had ran up the stairs until I was back inside the pillar to box 5. I palmed threw the program to find the peace. 

 :Performing a few passages from Gounod's Romeo and Juliet 

 Christine Daaé and Gerard Perry  

           I spoke the name Christine Daaé as I watched her with her Romeo. They where singing about there love to each other. Who was she, this girl who was a mere 20 years of age and yet had the voice of a very experienced singer. Her instrument struck feelings in me like nothing I had ever felt before. Her voice was so painfully filled  with melancholy and yet it had a brilliance and freshness like no other voice in Paris. She had a true talent yet it seemed untrained and unrefined.  Oh if only Carlotta had even half of Miss Daaé's talent then we'd have a real diva. 

           If she is any where in the wings I would wager she is burning with jealousy. I shall have to learn more about this Christine Daaé and her voice that holds a very dangerous spell over me like moth hovering over a candle flame.

      I sat in the wing of the stage, listening to the God awful sound
that bellowed from the "Diva."  I would have to remember my ear
muffs next time.

      I caught Meg's eye, and I felt a smile creep across my lips.  Even
through the racket that poured from Carlotta's mouth, I could still
enjoy my love.  She was nearly half my age, but to me, age is just a
number and has nothing to do with love.  Erik taught me that.  I
sighed as I thought of him once more.  It had been years since we
had seen each other, and I still remember our conversations as if it
were yesterday.

     He wasn't one to love, he had told me.  I myself couldn't imagine
why.  He was a talented magician, musician (ahh how he could make
the flowers sing!), ventriloquist, and even some of the gypsies said
he was a doctor of sorts.  He was much older than me, almost 15
years, but I still crept around him, clinging to his pants leg just
to keep him near.

     I wasn't sure of his whereabouts now, only that I had caught word
that he had been an architect here in Paris.  That brought me here,
and that brought me to find Meg.  Meg Giry.  Although she was barely
20, that didn't stop me from loving her.  She was a delicate flower,
and I had fallen deeply in love with her when we first made eye
contact.  Her mother, on the other hand, M. Giry was a woman who
would not have her only daughter caught in a lovers embrace with a
man who was almost twice her age.  Oh well, I thought, what she
doesn't know won't kill her.

     I had heard of the rumors that were supposedly started by Meg, and
many a night she would lie in my arms, sobbing hysterically because
she was being blamed for things she never said. 

     "Mama has told me never to speak of this, this ghost."  She
whispered.  "And I never will."

     Ghost.  The thought stayed in my mind for a time, even through the
Romeo and Juliet passage by Perry and Miss Daae.  The Opera Ghost. 
Could it be?  No.  I shook my head.  Perhaps it was only his legend
that was left behind. 

     Many friends and admirers were waiting for me once I'd departed from
the stage for my dressing room.  I welcomed a bouquet of roses into
my arms, thankful for the praise that buzzed around me.

     I paused as I began to hear a new voice from the stage.  'Ah yes,
that Swede, Christine Daaé...'  I had thought the managers utterly
ridiculous for being so desperate as to throw her in for a duet for
tonight's gala.

    "But Signora, we can't cut our patrons short on a full gala
performance!" the managers had cried.  And of course, I was in no
condition to sing more than one aria tonight, so they had
commissioned what renowned artists they could find.  But still they
insisted, "One more, Signora!  Just one more scene!"  And so they
gave that little Daaé a duet, as it was one of the few she thought
she could manage at the last minute.

   "Listen to that nonsense!" one of the gentlemen beside me spoke,
rousing me from my memory.  "Indeed," spoke another, "that girl is
clearly nowhere near your refinement, Signora!"

    I grinned, allowing my cheeks to blush at their attempts at
praise.  "Thank you, messieurs.  She does sound weak, doesn't she?"

    Everyone around me nodded and murmured agreement.  But in the back of
my mind, I listened to Miss Daaé with growing concern.  'She'd
better stay that way....'

       Christine was quite excited about singing on stage as Juliet. She heard her voice tremble and wished, she wouldn't have to sing. But she did her best. She truly did. She sang like she had to sing, but her heart was missing. She sang only music, no feelings.

      After her appearance on stage she quickly left to go into her dressing room to cry about her lack of talent.

     I stood in awe.  Christine had been blessed with a voice as pure as
gold, and as clear as crystal.  Marcus stood on the other side of
the stage and I caught myself glancing more than once to meet his
eye. 

    I couldn't wait until her aria had ended to congratulate her.  I
knew she felt as if she were shy, and sometimes unwanted, but I
considered her to be my closest friend, save for Marcus.  I could
hear the cheers from the audience and awaited Christine with open
arms. I slowly realized that Christine was not taking the main route back to the rehearsal room, so I walked quickly to her dressing room. Knocking gently, I slowly opened the door and peered at her.

"Christine, you were wonderful!  Are you alright?"  I asked.

     I sat on my table, my head in my hands. I was crying and  sobing. I shudder in sobs. I did not even hear someone (meg), enter my dressing room.

    Her shudders and sobs were shaking her body and I lightly wrapped my arms around her.

    "Shh, Christine.  It's alright.  You were wonderful."  I said.

    She didn't seem to notice me until I touched her.  Then with kind eyes I looked upon her and told her of the ovation she had received from the audience. 

   "You ran before you could see...."  I explained.  "Even Marcus seemed to like your performance."

    She looked at me, slowly lifting her head and smiling with her eyes.

       I looked up in disbelief. It can not be. Meg must be wrong. I manage to speak through my sobbings. "You.. you.. you a- are kidding.. I.. I was horrible..."

    The Phantom was forgotten for the time of the performance... Well, not truly forgotten, but inserted into my subconscious, because in my mind all these girls occupied his place. But they all were too young for me... eh... except of the diva. I couldn't say her singing was better as anyone else's I heard this evening, but I truly liked her appearance - she was something what would be appreciated highly in the harems of my country. And... wait, didn't I say I might want to please myself a bit? I must grin. Certainly not with her, she was a woman of a higher class and probably wouldn't loose a single word with someone like me. But anyway, I wouldn't like to have exactly her. She looks a bit too much stuck up, which is something I can't stand in women. On the other side, the girl which sang the part of Juliet had such a big stage fright, that she almost run off before finishing her aria, though she was certainly even better then the diva - if I could judge it as a person who has never seen any opera before. Somehow it happens, I was more concerned in the people on the stage as in the singing itself, but it happens so... I just always have to care for others, it's my life attitude and it's too late to change it.

       I felt a sheer pain swelling up inside my heart. What was this feeling.  Was I having a heart act?  No it can't be. The thundering applause fallowing Miss Daaé's mysterious leave of the stage made me worry.  Why would she run off like that after such a grand performance? I waited till all the audience members left to the side stage door to see if they could ketch a glimpse of their favorite actors or actresses as I always did.  Daroga would have to wait. As the last person slipped out of the auditorium I made my way to the lower box and existed to the main floor.  Now if I could just find Miss Daaé's dressing room. 

     Of course what do you think your going to do eh? Hand her a rose and bow wile introducing your self as the Opera ghost? I swallowed hard. Oh God what am I thinking. It would be best to just go back to my layer in the fifth cellar like do every night after the performances. Just as I rounded the corner I heard something. I hurriedly opened the secret passage at the end of the hallway to the cellar entrance. I closed it just in time to see Meg fly right past me. I heard her nock on the end dressing room door. 

<"Christine, you were wonderful!  Are you alright?">

  Well If this isn't the Opera Ghost's lucky day. I fallowed the passage way around to the only dressing room I had kidding fitted with a two way mirror. How ironic that it now comes in handy after so many years of this dressing room being empty and used as storage closet. I often ventured in here to retrieve old discarded peaces of fabric, scenery, props, I even came upon a wonderful red velvet cloak and a gaudily decorated feather covered pirate hat. I have no idea why I took these items it's not like an Opera Ghost has any need for a red velvet cloak or a pirate hat for that matter. I came to stand right be hind the counter wait system that shifted the trick mirror, a clever mechanism I invented for the Shaw of Persia. I listened quietly to the two girls.

       "Horrible?  You didn't hear the applause!  The cheers Christine!  They loved you!  I bet Carlotta is ready to spit nails!"

        I tried my best to console my friend.  I picked up a small brush from her dressing table and began to brush Christine's hair.

       I didn't really understand what Meg told me. They can not have loved me. I was horrible. I was bad. I lean against her as she brushes my hair. She is sometimes like a mother to me. "OH Meg have you not heard?" I manage to speaks while sobbing. "I was so bad, I went flat and I didn't get some notes. How can they have loved me?" I look at her and try to calm.

      I whisper, deep in my thoughts. "Papa wouldn't be proud of me.. Maybe that's why he didn't send the Angel of Music to me..."

     Angel of Music? I smiled I new something of this fable. If you lived your life pure of heart and you really wanted to sing with all your sole the Angel of music is supposedly suppose to appear to you and inspire you to sing like the angles in a heavenly choir. Miss Daaé's father must have promised to send the angle when he died.  How silly of her to think that the "Angel" was really going to come to her. As I stood looking at little Meg brushing Christine's hair an idea hit me. I could be her Angel that way I could talk to her and not have to show my face, but would she believe I was really her angel? I was one of the worlds best ventriloquist. Perhaps she'd be content enough with just an Angle of music's voice. There was only one way to fine out.

      Andre and Firmin sat together in their new office sulking. They wondered why they made the mistake of letting Miss Daaé sing in Romeo and Juliet and they groaned over the loss of potential profits. Then Andre reminded Firmin about the legend of the Opera ghost, that along w/ the wine they were drinking put them in a cheerful mood and they began to laugh together.

   I dropped my head.  The Angel of Music.  I had heard of him once before, as Mama spoke of him.  I had no doubt in my mind that Christine was the one that the angel would come too.  If, indeed he did exist.

   I continued brushing her hair, noticing her reflection in the mirror and the far off look in her eyes. 

   "Christine, your Papa would be very proud of you.  You truly have the voice of an angel."  I said smiling.

          I smile at Meg. "Oh thank you a lot for your nice words." I blush deeply and get up, walking around in the room, stopping at the mirror. I look at myself. My face red from crying. I quickly wipe my face before I turn to Meg again. "You know Meg, you are my only friend here." I walk to her and kneels before her. I take her hands. "You do not find me strange or weird, as other people do." I hold her hands in mine and look up to her. "Thank you for everything Meg." I smile softly.

    "Oh Christine, you're nothing of the sort. You are like a sister to me, a beautiful angel of a person."

Her hands were cold in my own.  I turned at the sound of a knock at the door and saw Marcus leaning on the door frame.  I smiled as he clapped his hands and bowed before Christine.

"You truly have the voice of an angel."  He smiled.

      I watched Christine as she came over to look in the mirror. She was so beautiful even though her face was quite red from sobbing. It was as though she was looking right at me. I new all to well she did not know I was there. And just as our gazes met so perfectly in an instant they were broken when there came a nock at the door. I left to my cellar five galleries down to do some opera business. 

     The first manor of affairs I had to attend to was conning the Opera owners into believing in an Opera Ghost. This might not be so easy. So I decided to write a nice little note about my little Fads. 

Dear Mr. Managers:

            Last night's performance was a charming evening out.  Daaé was exquisite in Romeo and Juliet.  The chorus was enchanting. Yet the dancing was quite a lamentable mess. Carlotta was as always a common place instrument. I will write you soon about my 233,424 franks and 70 cents. MM Debienne and Poligny have already sent me my allowance for the first ten days. I trust you will leave what is left with Madam Giry as the previous opera owners did.  I do believe that they sent you my memorandum-book as well which entails all my little fads as I like to call them, their for no more unexpected sales of my box five please. 

Your most Humble and Obedient servant 
Opera Ghost

It's always good to start slow especially with there being new opera owners. I will of course be promoting Daaé more the next time I write to them.

      The managers just arrived in the office after trying to oversee some props for the next production, only to find a note from the "Opera Ghost" on their desk. Andre groaned.

      "No more sales of Box 5, bashing our diva, expecting money, I've had enough of this!!!"

       "I wonder who's really behind this Opera Ghost business" Firmin wondered out loud.

        Andre & Firmin tore up the note together, sat back down and sighed. The Opera Ghost joke was funny the first time but now it was getting on their nerves.

        I was well aware that the new Opera owners would not take my note seriously. I would have to do a little more then send notes to get their attention. Tonight was the going away dinner in the grand hall for MM Debienne and Poligny. MM Andre and Firmin where sure to be there as well as the rest of the Opera company and staff. Some times even overly generous patrons of the opera where known to show up to these large gathering parties. Most of the time they ended up as a large drunken brawl as most of the Masquerades do. I was sure to show, perhaps even take a look at our new Owners first hand. Of course I would be well disguised, but not enough to miss a chance to scare the ballet girls. I wonder if Miss Daaé will be there. Perhaps I can find out a little more about her.

        Firmin and Andre admired themselves and made sure they were in check and looking spiffy, then they headed for the farewell party ready to officially take on their new opera house and hopefully get rid of this "Opera Ghost". They planned on telling Debienne and Poligny that their joke was getting old and that they weren't scared, although Andre was shaking in his knickers.

       "Thanks to you both." I start to smile again. "Will you both be at the Opera Owners Going Away Party as well? Please excuse me, I must change my clothes." I say with a soft smile. I have calmed down and made a plan.

      So I started to dress for the going away party. I was not very excited  to go there. I do not like drinking and I am rather alone and not among the company. I am also to shy and can not make conversation. I sigh and look at myself in the mirror.

     I now wear a dark blue dress with long sleeves. I have decided to put my hair up again, since I think it looks bad and today it looks especially bad. But of course, some curls fall down again. I am about to give up again. I look pale, much too pale with strands of hair falling down. Though I hear Meg already telling me, Oh Christine I love your curly hair, I wish I had such hair.

     I smile a little as I think of Meg. Oh she is truly maybe the only person who understands me and whom I could call a friend. If just her mother wasn't so scary.

     Alright Christine, enough thinking, maybe Meg is at the Party. I leave my room and stroll a little through the Opera House. Oh I love this building so much, and one day, so I planned, I want to go and see the cellars. I stop as I see a young woman with wonderful red hair. I keep watching her from afar. She fascinates me, but why? Without really realizing, I approach her, always watching her. Certainly she sees me too.. I nod a little to her direction.

    She sees the women watch her from afar, and walks to her. How beautiful
she is, and such a voice she has, she thinks to herself. If only I could
be so incredible. She extends her hand to the women and says, "Hello,my
name is Lucy and I am new here to Paris. "Her Scottish accent is hard
to ignore as she speaks. "May I ask your name? You have such a lovely
voice, I only wish I could sing as you. Do you have a teacher? "She asks
the young women, her green eyes warmly look at her.

      I was dressed in my finest. This was truly going to be event not worth missing. I carefully sculpted some nose putty into a nose and glued it into place with spirit gum. As I powdered it to take the shine away I wondered if it looked believable. I had no mirrors in my domain so i had not way of knowing. Of course the nose was a far cry form looking normal. My physique was still corpse like; a hallow frame, sunken eyes, and dead lips. At least I had a nose now. 

    The main hall was packed with people. I slipped behind the crowd unnoticed, taking in all the excitement I could. Everywhere I looked people where drinking and gossiping. I over heard a rather fat Opera patron say;

      "That girl Miss Daaé I think it was, what a horrible singer she made my ears bleed." 

       I grinded my teeth and dug my nail into the pillar next to me. What does she know? I threw my voice at her and around her friends. 

       "You must be deft." Flash I switched to one of her friends ears. "It was Carlotta that was the ear bleeder." Flash back to the lady "If I were you I'd stop drinking so much your half the size of a house already." 

       The lady started to scream as did her friends. "Ghost, ghost he's here in my ear" said on of them. 

        I laughed and walked on leaving them to their own imaginations. As I came upon another group of people I saw that rat Buquet who always spreads vicious roomers about me. He was sitting drinking like a fish on the grand start case. I decided to play a little trick on him.

       "Buquet........Buquet..........Ghosts do not like to be talked about." I whispered in his ear.

         "Bloody hell!!!" I must be drinking to much. I'm starting to hearing things. I said under my breath downing the last of my campaign. 

          "Indeed you rat. I'd advise you to have a care Buquet other wise you might fall victim to the pun-jab lasso."

          I look up drunkenly form my seat on the last stair. "No, no ghost isss going to tell me what to doooo." 

          "Is that so?"

           I look all-round for the voice, but see nothing. "Come out and face me you bastard I.......I know you're not a ghost. I've seen you.........in the 3rd...........3rd cellar..........I saw you movie a brick and the wall magically opened..........You may think you fool everyone in this opera, but I know your secrets.........And and one day..........I'll find out where you live.........just you wait..........I'll find it............."

          What a drunken fool I'd like to see him sober up long enough to find out how to get to the fifth cellar. All of Africa would freeze over first. I leave him shortly after he passes out and falls on his face. 

          As I walk away I hear the most angelic voice.............................

   Taking a deep breath, I walked closely to my beloved's side as we entered the grand party.  I was dressed in green.  My dress had been a gift from Marcus, and I smiled up at him as I held his arm.

   Mama would be here soon, and I was determined to tell her of my love tonight.  My eyes searched the room for Christine, and I spotted her chatting with a beautiful red head.  I decided not to interfere, for I knew that Christine needed more friends.

       I smile softly at the young woman and blush. "Oh thank you. My name is Christine Daaé." I curtsey. "I am singer here at the Opera, but I messed up my last performance. I hope you have not seen it." I look down. "May I ask how you came it? Actually the Opera is closed for a private Party. Would you like to join me at the party?"

I do not know why I invited her, she sounds nice and I somehow feel I can trust her.

           I saw Christine enter the Grand foyer with a girl who had such bright red hair one might think it was a flame. I had never seen her before, but I was glad to see miss Daaé with a friend. I had heard roomers that Christine did not have many friend save Meg and of course her benefactress. Rumors as I new very well could ruin a person if one was not careful. I watched Christine from afar as I stood under a darkened walk way safe from the prying eyes of curious patrons.  I could easily slip in and out of corridors, walkways even walls like magic. All the hidden passages and trap doors obeyed only me the master of their secrets. I looked up at the vault of the avant foyer, mosaics covered it with a sparkling gold background. Not even0 Paul Baudry's Magnificent painted ceiling compared with Miss Daaé's beauty and grace. I was blown away by her dark blue dress and it's long sleeves which landed perfectly on her slider wrists like a cascading waterfall. Her hair was pulled up off her face with a few delicate curls farming her soft pale face. She looked like a freshly painted porcelain doll in a very expensive crowded shop. Her voice was like one of an angel soft and sweet. I was completely captivated by her almost intoxicated to the point of almost betraying my hading place. I only noticed I was leaning out of the shadows when a familiar face broke the spell over me. It was little Meg and who is this dark fellow with her. Madam Giry would not be pleased with him he looks almost 10 years older then her.  Funny something about that man seemed familiar. I will have to check him out for Giry's sake. I doubt she knows of their affair. Pore widow of Jules. She puts up with so much, my favors and her young daughter antics. I stared at the man his eyes where gleaming I knew him. Was he a Gypsy?

     I smile back to her,Christine.You are very kind to invite me to join
you,and would be most happy to.She gives a slight curtsey.You asked
how did I come to be here as this is a closed party? I have a friend
that knows the retiring mangagers.I met them once,though that was a
long time ago,and I do not think they would know me now.I was
visiting Paris with this friend,a family friend.He told me that they
were leaving the Opera House,I could not believe what I heard.I
thought to myself,that they had loved working here,so I asked to be
invited,to show my respect.
You must forgive my going on so,its the Scottish within me.I smile
at Christine,you hear,my accent is strong.
     I try to make this pretty young women feel more at ease with me as
I smile to her.She seems so shy,almost fearful in a way.And as for
her voice,I have heard it say that she may very well be a new diva.
    Christine,I have not yet heard you sing,but would like to if you
would not mind it? I adore music,I too am a singer.It is like air to
me.


        I walked with Meg clinging to my arm, only letting go for a brief second as her mother, M. Giry passed.  If only I could talk with her, but I knew that would never happen.  I slumbered away from Meg, letting her converse with the other ballet girls and patrons of the opera.

    Something about the building intrigued me, and I could sense Erik's presence.  Maybe not in the physical sense, but his works could be felt within the house.  I smiled at the memory of our first meeting, I was such a small boy, merely a runt in those days.  Many thought I was sick, even my mother knew I was to die.  Only then was Erik brought to our tent, and his miracle performed.  I never left his side after that.

   If only he could see me now, I thought.  My mentor, my friend, my brother.  I missed him whole heartedly, and found myself whispering in the old language, "Where are you, my brother?"

   A chill ran down my spine as I spoke, and I let my mind run wild with imagination, willing myself to hear his angelic, talented voice once more.

    I was enjoying this night to the fullest. It was one of those
exceptional times when it paid to be the mother of a member of the
corps de ballet. I had full right to be at this extravagant party
for Monsieur Poligny and Monsieur Debienne. There were quite a lot
of people, friends of the managers, wealthy patrons, nearly everyone
who worked at the opera. It was wonderful.

   Normally I declined from spending time among such high class people,
but this was not a night to be missed. It was rather amusing to be
seen among them, as if I were just like them.

   I surveyed the scene around me pleasantly. It was quite a sight. I
did wonder if the ghost would enjoy an evening such as this. That
is...if he wasn't angry about his box being sold...

   I pushed the thought out of my mind, I would apologize to him when
and if he spoke to me again. It wasn't my fault exactly...but I felt
I owed him that.

   Scanning the crowd, a particular man caught my eye. He was very
tall, he looked almost foreign, though I could not place his
nationality. Yes, I had seen him before. I believe he worked
backstage...although that might be incorrect. He did work at the
opera I knew. He seemed to be staring intently at something. I
followed his gaze easily and saw my Meg among a few of her friends
from the corps. I turned my gaze back to the man and narrowed my
eyes and glared at him. Surely he wasn't eyeing my daughter... I
must be mistaken.

   I turn away, but decide that I may have to talk to Meg later...

         My mind was flooding with memories some painful some good. The gypsy circus, my home in Boscherville, My mother, Father  Mansart, Doctor Barye, Mademoiselle Perrault, Persia, Daroga. Out of all my travels and I end up in the cellars of an opera house. Suddenly a memory of a little boy came flashing threw my mind. His name was Marcus a small frail thing very sickly. I remembered the night his family came to me asking me for my medical help. I figuring I was their last resort and took no time in helping him. 

       I watched Meg's suitor carefully studding his movies, trying to decide if it truly was Marcus. It was hard to tell considering that was some many years ago. My gaze turned to Madam Giry, she was staring at the man. Surly he would not be stupid enough to betray their secret  relationship. I saw her glare at him , oh you fools. Wait why do I care? What is going on? I did not use to care about any one and suddenly I feel like I'm some sort of protector. First Daaé's voice enchants me to the point of almost being scene fist in the box bellow mine and then here at the party. Perhaps I've gone soft. So many years of solitude has made me quite mad. I don't need any one and I certainly don't need to be watching after to young ridicules lovers. Love never lasts it's just a silly infatuation. I could never truly think that a relationship would work between me and Christine Daaé.  What a  fool I have become. I left the shadows of my hiding place and disappeared into the wall where I could easily over see and hear everything with out being detected. Now where are those new Opera Owners.  

        I woke up to the sound of a man asking if I was ok. "But of course my good man." I said as I stumbled to my feet. That Opera Ghost thinks he's so smart. I'm going to find his hiding place and expose him for the man he is. I walked down the hall towards the little stair case by the foot lights which leads to the cellar. That's where I saw him last. I almost ran up against him, but he did not see me and he betrayed his secrets to my watchful eye. I often told stories about him to the Ballet girls they loved to hear stories that made them scared. And if one might ask me I might tell them what the Opera Ghost truly looks like.

         Andre and Firmin stood w/ Debienne and Poligny surveying the party. They saw Miss Daae speaking to a young red haired girl, and Meg Giry w/ the same young man that they had seen her w/ a few times before. They were awaiting the moment when the party would end and the opera house would be theirs minus this "Opera Ghost" business.

       I sat quietly in the box, waiting till the whole crowd won't be out 

of the auditorium. Then finally I was left all alone here what 

offered me the opportunity to find out the truth about this 

mysterious ghost's box. 

       To be true, I was disappointed by him as I hoped he would let me 

know about him. Was it all the same to him, that someone entered his 

territory, or did he just have another things to do? Anyway, when he 

didn't appear now, he was here before for sure. I heard the knocking 

coming from inside and I couldn't be mistaken because the woman in 

black heard it as well. And I will find the way how he left the box, 

sooner or later.

       Unfortunately, I didn't remember where have I interrupted the 

examining of the wall, so I had to start over again. Step by step, 

inch by inch, starting from the left corner, I tap on the walls, 

awaiting a hollow sound, but none came... But there MUST be 

something! What about the ground? No... that wouldn't be possible... 

But I spent a while kneeling and researching, though.

Then it occurred to me! It must be the pillar. The only thing I have 

omit. My hands slid over it, and some minutes later - fully by 

random - found a button... and the way... the way was open.

     The managers noticed Carlotta as she entered the party. She seemed to
 keep glancing thier way. Was she possibly looking for them?

          I stood with Lucy and almost got lost in her voice. She sounds so nice and lovely. I drift off into my thoughts.. Oh wait what did she say?? Oh Christine gather your thoughts, girl!!

         I feel myself blushing and becoming pale in one. "I shall sing for you?" I stammer. "I told you, I messed up, Lucy."

        Please, I do not want to sing.. not now.. not again.. I was so bad.. so awfully bad.. But in the corner of my eye I see Carlotta approaching the crowd. "Oh look, there is our diva. She truly can sing." I point a little to Carlotta for Lucy.

      I turn to Christine and gently place my hand on her arm,I am sure you
will out sing all of them here,even her.As I speak I turn and glance
at Carlotta,the Opera's diva.I would love to hear you sing,but only
when your ready to let me.Or,perhaps,you might tell me when you will
be performing next so I may attend? For now,I would like it if you
would introduce me to Caroltta.I smile gently to her.

           The managers noticed Carlotta as she entered the party. She seemed to keep glancing thier way. Was she possibly looking for them?

        I glance to the black hole which has opened it front of my eyes and 

consider: to enter or not to enter? Who knows who or what is hiding 

there in the darkness... Yes, I am afraid, but my excitement is even 

higher. I really shouldn't thrust my nose in things which have 

nothing to do with me, but I just can't help myself...

Okay Nadir. You need some light at first. I will borrow a 

candlestick - they won't be angry that someone has stolen it, I shall 

give it back sooner than they will notice. 

I step into the darkness very carefully and see, it is not just a 

hiding place but a secret corridor, leading to... I don't know where, 

but it seems to be long. Browsing through the room I lean against 

the wall and suddenly I hear the door closing. What for a pitch! Me 

stupid idiot, I shouldn't have touched anything, now I have no way 

out of here... I really don't believe that I will have a stroke of 

luck and find the button which I should press again.

But each corridor must have its end, I think optimistically and walk 

forward, trying to enlighten my way with the candlestick. I must be 

careful, I promises to myself and look around attentively. Now this 

is an adventure! 

          I nod slowly. "Maybe later in my dressing room. I doubt I will ever sing in public again." I smile softly at her. "Let us go and meet Carlotta." I shudder and hope Carlotta wont make a scene because of me. Slowly me and Lucy approach Carlotta. I speak softly. "Signora? May I introduce a friend of mine to you?" My hands tremble nervously.

      I will freely admit that I have no clue as to where I am or how I got
here. It seems that I am in our box at the Opera... but there no
show tonight, is there? For that matter, what night is it?

     Who knows? I certainly don't. My head is throbbing. I must have hit it
on something. Perhaps that's why I don't remember getting here.

     I got slowly to my feet, taking my time to keep the dizziness at a
minimum. With much patience, I was able to make my way to the door
and down the steps to the lobby. There... there seemed to be a party
going on...

     Why wasn't I invited?

     I stumbled at the last few steps, losing my balance and almost
sprawling to the floor. Except there was somebody standing directly
between me and the floor.

     I regret to say that I fell into her, knocking her forward a bit.
Unfortunately it wasn't enough to keep me from going to my knees. And
the room tilted something awful. I put a hand to my head and closed
my eyes, trying to keep from being sick. 

    "Oh, my... I am... dreadfully sorry, Miss..."

     I looked up and my heart froze in my chest.

     "...Miss... Miss Daaé? Christine Daae?"

     Oh, God, I must have died when I hit my head. Christine here? I must
have been dreaming.

I can't believe it.

I just can't believe it.

I am late. I am never late. It is little brother who is always late. Not me. I am always there in time. That is how it should be. I am there and Raoul arrived late as usual.

But no. Today has to be special, right? What have I done to deserve this? What?

Don't think about it, Phil. Just don't think.

Oh, I know what delayed my schedule. The letter...

I got a letter today. It was a notice of my cousins death. Poor Henri. You just had to stay in New Orleans, right? First this terrible civil war and than that. And now I am to help your daughter. Couldn't you warn me beforehand?

I didn't even know Henri had a daughter.

She is supposed to be quite beautiful. I know that because Henri wrote me about his little Princess.
Black hair and sparkling green eyes, like emeralds in the moonlight. That were his words.

And now I am late for the Opera because I had to wait for the girl and she didn't come. The letter said she would come to me, but no...she wasn't there. I waited. And waited. And waited...

Can't this damn thing go faster?

Finally. The Opera. And there is enough time to go to the party. I really don't like going to such parties but they expect me to be there. It is one of the duties. One of many.

I am going to enter the hall as I hear a voice calling. I turn around to see who it was and lay eyes on one of the most beautiful women of this sorry world.

I think I can hear my heart thumping. It has to be a dream. It has to. No woman can be such a beauty. It is impossible.

Sparkling eyes like emeralds are watching me with silent amusement. Her ebony skin seems to glow in the artificial light of the hall. That effect is only enhanced by the dress of midnight blue silk she wears. Goddess like she walks to me...

"Thanks, Monsieur, that you waited for me."

I am surprised to hear me say that, anything to this man. Usually I don't talk to white men. The only white man I was allowed to talk to was my Poppa. He said it was for my own good. He said it was so the people don't talk. I never understood him when he talked like that. But there was some wisdom in his words. He wanted nothing but a good life for me. He wanted me safe and loved.

Well, the safe part he managed to accomplish. Three days after his death I was on a ship to the Old Home. The Old Home, that is what he called France and especially the family estate. He spoke of this place as if he grew up there, but the only bit of France he ever saw in his life were the Parisian designs for my dresses. He was born in New Orleans. As was his father. There was something about grandfather...some kind of bad luck that made him leave his home and buy the plantation in New Orleans, but I can't remember. Wasn't important anyway.

And now I am in Paris. I always wanted to visit this city. You can say it was my greatest wish. To look over the roofs like Quasimodo in the towers of Notre Dame.

I think I should go into the theatre. I don't know what made me do what I did. I thanked this kind man who held the door open for me and I couldn't turn my eyes away from him. I just couldn't.

Oh, Serena darling, you can't fall in love with the first kind man you meet. You can't do that.

I'd been slowly conversing my way towards the managers, when I
happened upon Christine and another young girl with bright red
hair.  'Just because she sings a song, she thinks she can just show
me off to whomever she likes?' I thought exasperatedly.  I'd have
been more inclined to ignore the two if not already under the eyes of
my new employers.  It wouldn't do to snub anyone on a first day, so I
was about to oblige the request...

...Right up until a bumbling (yet I'll admit, handsome!) gent, fell
onto Christine, nearly toppling her to the floor.  I ground my teeth
quietly.  'The nerve!' I thought, trying hard to not show signs of
disgust at this blatant gesture.  'Some men will do anything to get
in contact with a woman!'  But at his first words, apparently this
man already knew Christine.

I hoped it was not from any interest in her name on the Opera program.

I look at Madame Carlotta and extend my small hand to her. "Hello
Madame Carlotta. I am very pleased to meet you. Such an amazing women
as yourself, and your voice, words cannot describe a voice as yours. "I
smile warmly to her as I speak.
And yet even as I speak to Carlotta, I sense Christine's nervousness
around this women and I wonder why? Has this women done something to
cause such feelings in Christine? This I would hope not, as Christine
seems so fragile as is. She only needs friendship and someone to trust
completely, then perhaps she would not be so fragile seeming. Perhaps
if she would trust in me one day, perhaps she would then tell me what
troubles her so.

We stood there for some time. looking into the others eyes. I don't know how long. Time seemed to vanish into a void of nothing as I laid my eyes upon her.  I have to say it again, if only in my mind, she is the most beautiful woman I've seen. If it were not for my name, I would allow myself to fall in love with her.

But I can't. I am Philippe, Count de Chagny. I have to honor what was given me by that name. I have to live the life everybody expects me to live. How I envy my little brother at this moment. He at least can fall in love with whoever he deems worthy to love, if not to marry. I can't even get a little scandal. Well, I could, but it would ruin everything for Raoul. Than it would fall to him to help the line survive. I can't do that to him. Better me than the little brother. Right? Better the old bachelor than the young dreamer.

The situation is getting awkward.

Say something, moron. Anything.

"You're welcome, Mademoiselle..." I know. I know. I was never good at subtlety.

"Serena, Monsieur."
came the whispered reply. Did I imagine that or is this goddess afraid of me? Well, dearest Phil, that we'll have to change. Now.

"What a beautiful name, Mademoiselle Serena. If you would allow me?" I offered her my arm to take. And Beauty of all Beauties gave me the honor of her touch. I think I sighed dreamily.

But I can't shake the feeling that I forgot something important. Something really important...

As I listened to the dry Opera gossip an idea came to me. The new opera owners want to see a ghost do they? Well then I might just go dine with them at the diner ceremonies. The image of a corpse sitting at the fine dinner table in front of fragile ladies of the upper class brought a twisted smile to my lips. Oh how deliciously evil my plot was sure enough to send all the women flying from their seats in terror. Be sure rumors are bound to fly by morning thanks to my little messengers the corps de ballet. I make my way to the dinner table behind the wall and await the grand speech. 

I am so excited as Lucy speaks to Carlotta. On my way to her I got a glass of champagne. Not that I like alcohol, it just seems that this is the only drink tonight.

I was about to take a sip as someone crashed into me. I lost my balance and almost fell, but I caught Lucy's arm,  my glass fell down and broke on the floor.

Worried I speak to the young man. "Msr. are you..." But then he says my name. How can he know my name? I tilt my head and release Lucy's arm. "Yes I am Christine Daaé."

I extend my arm to help him up. I do not know, he seems so familiar. This shocked look on his face. Who is he? Christine remember!! Try to remember!!!!

But my memory is lost. "And who are you, Msr????" I smile at him, trying to remember this so known person.

I had just finished speaking to Madame Carlotta, when I felt someone
grab my arm. Startled,I turn to see Christine."Are you
alright,Christine"I ask as I help to steady her. I also notice a young
gentleman near to her."And you Monsire,are you alright as well?" I
watch as she helps the gentleman up,thinking to myself,"he seems to
know her,though she does not.Perhaps I should leave the two of them
alone.I do not wish to intrude upon them if they do know eachother."

The managers were getting ready 2 hear what they were sure was going to be a wonderful speech by carlotta. As they sat down and waited in anticipation they remarked to themselves about how the "ghost" hadn't made an appearance yet

          Seeing that Christine seems to know the young gentlemen to whom was bumped into, I decide to leave them alone. I do not wish to intrude. I smile to both of them, and thank Christine once more for her kindness to me, and hope that they meet later. Then I walk into the banquet hall, taking a chair near the back as I am a bit late. I notice two things upon sitting, one, the chair next to me is the only one empty, which I think odd. The second, is that Madame Carlotta has stood up and all eyes are now on her. Taking a sip of the glass of champagne which is in front of me ,I wait to see what happens next.

       I was awaiting the first speech to make my move.  I figured let a few long dawn out sentences slip and then I'll make my appearance. And what a grand appearance it will be.

     Before I could say a word, I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I turned
round, seeing one of the many servants hired for the evening's gala. 
He leaned in, saying in hushed tones, "Madame, they are ready for you
now."  I merely gave a nod, and he walked onward towards a podium
that had been set up for the event.  Trying to put on a smile, I
offered the young girls and the boy on the floor a brief, "Please,
pardon me," and followed after the servant.

  'This is so tiring!'

   As I reached the podium, one of the acting managers tried to gain the
attention of the crowd.  "Madames and messieurs, your attention
please!  In a most gracious gesture, our darling diva, La Carlotta,
has a few parting words for our retiring managers, Messieurs Debienne
and Poligny, as well as offers a warm welcome to our new employers,
Messieurs Andre and Firmin."

   I smiled at the managers, all seated at their table, as I took my
place to speak, the hall echoing with applause.  "Thank you," I said
as the acting manager stepped away.  Taking a breath, I spoke
out, "For several seasons, I have had the pleasure of singing in this
wondrous palace, and all thanks to the kind and generous assistance
of Messieurs Debienne and Poligny, who took me in so many years ago. 
It is with a heavy heart that I, as well as all of us here in
the Opera, must say goodbye to our beloved managers...our dearest
friends."  I paused as a few murmured assents and soft applause
filled the air.

   "I wish them well as they move on to retire, and hope that for all
their time spent handling business here, they will not have tired of
the splendor of the Opera, and that we shall see them again soon."

  Once more there was applause, and to my surprise, I could feel my
eyes wet with small tears...

       I wonder if that toad of a diva will be gracing our ears to night with an aria? Oh god I hope not.  I took hold of the release lever to the secret passage way. In anticipation I pulled it open.  The wall quietly slid back to reveal lovely candle lit chandeliers and marble statues.  I passed behind all the opera patrons unnoticed. I had always had soft foot fall. I remember my mother always scolding me saying I was always trying to sneak up on her. It served me well many times to go unnoticed. And now I can use it once again. A queer smile began to cross my face as I scanned the room. There where no empty seats. Sacred God, now what. So I waited till some one got up to relieve them selves. I scanned once more and found a man making quite a fuss. He then got up from his seat and walked out into the Avant foyer. I slowly slipped into the empty chair with out even noticing until it was to late, I had sat right next to a girl with incredibly red hair. It was Christine's friend.  No matter Christine is not here she will not see me. It too about a half a minute till I started to hear screams ring out form the corps de ballet. It was the usual chant. 

"Opera ghost!!! He here!!!"

       I sat very still as to not appear alive. My unmasked face made the upper-class woman flush and faint and if they made it long enough to scream they did. I wanted to laugh at the catastrophe I had created. I saw girls curl back into the arms of the nearest man and I saw men get sick to their stomachs. It was enough to make every one stop watching Carlotta and star grimly at me.  Then just as quick and unnoticed as when I sat down I slipped out of my chair and disappeared behind the wall before any one could offer the Opera ghost a glass of wine. 

     I do hope that scared the Opera owners enough. Surely all the ballet girls will be spreading all kinds of rumors about me tomorrow.  I'm sure that rat Joseph Buquet will be right along there with them even though he is no ware to be scene. He's probably passed out some where. Good thing for me too, I can't have him muddling around with the facts of the rumors about me now can I?

I was still occupied with that young man who seems to know me. I wish I could remember who he is, his face seems familiar. I try to think as some noises caught my attention. The Ballet girl call out that the ghost is back. I hear screaming and shouting.

I run to the foyer to see what is happening. I see women faint and men being pale as ghosts. But then I see one red glow. Its Lucy's hair!! I rush to her and lay my hand on her shoulder. I bend down to whisper to her ear. "What has happened here?"

I turn to Christine a bit startled.I really do not know,it all seemed to happen so fast.One minute I was listening to your Diva speak,the next a strange looking man sat next to me and the whole place went crazy.Women fainted,men went white as sheets.All I could do was stare into his horrid eyes,if thats what they were.Though I do not know why everyone called him a ghost.He was right next to me,and seemed very real to me.Can you explain all this to me? When I turned for a second,he was gone,from where I do not know.What does all this mean,who is this man Christine?

"Raoul" he says. I can hear he is not amused. Obviously his little brother did something he was not supposed to do.

The nice man whose name I don't know smiles at me. God almighty, what a smile. If I weren't what I am, I would kiss that face. It seems he is made for it. Like Prince Charming in a Fairy Tale.

"Please excuse me, Mademoiselle Serena. I have to talk to my brother." And with that he goes to his brother who is now standing alone. 

Lil' Bro' is now standing alone in this void of nothingness called party because the actress he was talking to vanished into another room.

I can see them talking but I can't hear them. It is a tiny bit too loud here to understand them. Not that I wanted to understand what they were talking about. I am not that curious. Mot this girl. Not Serena Elaine de Chagny.

The people are whispering behind my back. I can hear them. Who has that allowed in here? I didn't know the Count had that varied a taste. You can imagine the rest. I hated it when people talked about me. I hate it with all my soul.

But Poppa taught me better.

I run my had along the wall to find the switch which must release the wall's pivot. I find it quite easily, but if I had not seen the master him self doing it I probably would be stuck for hours. I walk down a narrow path that seems to lead on forever the only light comes from a lantern I am caring. After what seems like an hour the path lets out in to a large hidden gallery where the air seems thick with mildew. I must be near the underground lake I think as I keep walking. Then I hear a terrible sound like that of hundreds of rats. I manage to crawl up on an old prop to avoided the rush of rodents. The rat catcher must be near. They soon pass and I am on way again. The smell of mildew goes away and I come to a passage way that narrows into a small room. I see no leavers, but there musty be one some where. If I could just find it. I check every inch of the wall with my lantern examining every brick and clevis carefully as to not miss any thing. Then I find a small brick that is raised up higher then the others. I push it in and the wall opposite me opens. It immediately starts to shut again so I run in before it does.............

I could almost feel myself levitate off the floor as my brother touched me
on the shoulder. Merciful God in Heaven, my heart almost stopped beating.
No, I lie... It DID stop beating. For a whole five seconds it seemed. It was
only just starting up again as I regathered my balance.

"Dash it all, Philippe, don't scare me like that!"

I took a few settling breaths, taking out my pocket watch and looking at it
meaningfully.

"I will have you know that I haven't done a thing this time, so I will thank
you to keep your disapproving tones to yourself. Especially as I was NOT the
one late this time."

It was only when I ran my hand through my hair, slightly matty with dried
blood that I realised what he MIGHT have been referring to.

"Incidentaly I think I might have hit my head on something hard. I can't
quite recall, though it certainly feels tender enough. I woke up not too
long ago in our box so I must have made it in there before I opted out."

My eyes caught on the woman that he had left. I'd noticed her... but not
really NOTICED.

"Might I ask who you are accompanying, brother? I don't recall meeting her
before. But I am having difficulty recalling very much at the moment, though
I DO remember distinctly that I was here very nearly on time today and you
weren't here to see it."

He wants to know who the beautiful lady is I am accompanying. Well, he should get it. I notice her to come to us and can't stop smiling. I am quite sure my face shows one of those "I-am-terribly-in-love-and-can't-hide-it-enough" smiles. I have to look like a fool with this grin. But I can't bring myself to care.

"This, little brother, is Mademoiselle Serena. Mademoiselle, my brother, Raoul de Chagny." Her eyes darken at his name. Does she know him?

"Is something wrong?" I ask. I am worried. There is something in her eyes, like she is now really afraid of me.

"de Chagny?" she askes. "Raoul de Chagny? And you are..."

"Count Philippe de Chagny." Something snaps in her and she stares at me like I am a monster or something.

"You are Philippe?" I can hear she is angry. But why?

"You are the Philippe de Chagny my father told me about? You are the cousin I am supposed to live with?"

He goes from happy to upset in approximately three seconds. How
irksome.

"Ah, so YOU are our mysterious relation. Welcome to France, cousin."

And that was all I had leisure to say as Philippe dragged her away
and sat her in a chair, then whirled on me.

"Brother, dear, you seem... upset for some reason. Unseemly so."

Gyah! Now he was messing with my head, assessing the damage. Dash it
all! It bloody hurts when he's not gentle!

In a whisper, while this was going on, I informed him, "Not that it
is any of my business, but there is neither state law nor holy
commandment that forbids relationships between first cousins or first
cousins once removed... or second cousins for that matter. There is
no reason at all for you to go from love struck to thunder struck and
I'm sure my head would be appreciative if you took a breath and calmed
down."

Tender, bruised, bloody... And he wasn't being very gentle.

I look down to Lucy. "What man? What has happened here?" I ask out of breath.

Once again something happened and I missed it. I sigh. "Was the ghost here? Have you seen him? How does he look like?" I take a deep breath and try to ask not so many questions at once. "I am sorry. What has happened, Lucy?"

I sit down on that chair where the ghost sat before and look into Lucys eyes, holding her hand.

 I sat on my ottoman stroking Ayesha. What an odd little cat she is. As I sit here I she is watching my every move.  My mind started wondering. I could not get Miss Christine Daaé out of my head. I kept hearing her tragically haunting voice ringing like the bells of Notre Dame in my ears. Oh horrors of horror what is wrong with me. Do I have a school boy crush on this girl. I tried to reason with myself, but it was no use. I had to see here again and soon. I had to find the courage to pretend to be her Angel of music. I felt silly even thinking about it. If I can pull it off I'm  genius, but what a scam on the girl's integrity. Tomorrow I shall go and stand behind her two way mirror and act out the part of the Angle of music. 

I sensed his attention faltering slightly... his hand had come to a dead stop on top of my head.... so I dug my nails into his leg reminding him that I was here. He looked down at me and I mewed innocently as he begin stroking my fur again.

I felt like if I was wandering the corridors for hours... The labyrinth around me was like a huge cavern from fairy tales I loved in my childhood, with dozens of secret doors, dangerous corridors, dark unknown places and nothing what could help one to find his way back. Luckily I still didn't want to search the way back because I had my reasons for being already here and now - I wanted to find out the secret of this ghost... It was dangerous, but too interesting to let it be. I didn't know if I was walking in circles or forwards, if my trip was nearer to it's purpose or if I was lost. I just tried to follow one direction and looked on the floor and around carefully, in order not to fall anywhere and injure myself, because no one would ever find me here. And I almost forgot to mention, no one would even try to look for me. Suddenly me ears caught some sound which I didn't her before. It was like... murmur of water... an underground river? In the next minutes I tried to get nearer and really, I saw floating water in front of me. It must have been a subterranean branch of the Seine... Now, if I will follow the river, I can't get lost! Holding my lantern fast, full of excitement I walked along this dark stream.

Christine,where are we going?I look at her puzzled as she tries to drag me with her.Do you intend to find this supposed ghost?If so,I really do not know or how he dissapeared.Besides,it could be dangerous for you.But if you really want to find him,I will go with you.I am not afraid of such things.I grasp her hand tighter and follow her lead.

I do not know where I lead Lucy to. I turn to her. "Where did he go to? I must see him."

As I sat thinking I felt Ayesha's claws sinking in to my leg. Sacred god she's got some sharp talons. She started to give me that innocent look she always gave me when she'd done something she should have not done. I looked down at her "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" I carry her to the dinning room table and turn to retrieve some sardines I had stolen form the party. I scope them out on to a plate and place it before her like a servant might be for his queen.  I have always been an animal lover ever since I was little. The distant memory of Sasha crossed my mind. I sigh sadly. Father Mansart was cruel to tell me at such a young age that animals do not have a sole. If he is right perhaps I don't want to go to heaven after all. I'd rather dwell where ever it is animals go when they die. Maybe even become an animal myself. Animals have always liked me and I them. I have always felt a deep connection with them. I watch Ayesha, she is the only one who will not run form me when she sees my unmasked face and for that I am indebted. 

Suddenly I see a light go on in the torture chamber. What the hell? I leave Ayesha on the table and walk worryingly over to the little window and open it. I look into the room of mirrors and illusions. There is nothing. How odd. The light still remains on. I continue to look around then out of the corner of my eye I see Joseph Buquet hanging form the iron tree with a giblet. At first the site of his dead body intrigued me. Then horrifying thoughts crossed my mind. If he got this far who else could? Did he tell any one how he got down here? I swallowed hard. I'll just have to set some more traps then. Now what to do about the body. I can't very well leave him here he'd stink up the entire house. Then a thought crossed my mind. I'll make it look like a suicide. The man drank so much who new if he was troubled or depressed enough to hang him self.  I  pushed the release leaver to open the torture chamber's false door. "Stupid man didn't your mother ever tell you curiosity killed the cat." I look at Ayesha as I cut him down and laugh. "Of course I did not mean you my dear, your protected by the Opera ghost." Then I laugh again as I drag him out of the small mirrored room and lay his lifeless body on the floor. "Now where to put you?" I say looking down at him. Of course the 3rd cellar, there is some old props there he'll be sure to be seen by tomorrow. I'll hang him up right between the farm house and one of the scenes from Roi de La hore. I leave the house on the lake threw a back a back passage. And enter the 3rd cellar, where I Joseph up with a noose. "Well that's what you get for being a rat monsieur. Poor man you had no idea what was coming did you?" I leave him there quite satisfied of myself.  I made it look quite like a suicide.

I eyed him carefully as he placed the food in front of me... I dipped my head to begin eating, but paused. I looked up at him as he sighed. His soul had grown heavy. Well.. more heavy then usual. I was about to nudge his hand gently when he walked away from me ..  I watched him for a moment. I knew he could take care of himself... and I dipped my head once more, savoring the sardines he had carefully selected for me.

 I took the long way back and entered into the subterranean level to row back a cross the river. When I suddenly hear some foot fall. now who is down here? Good lord what is this a public museum? Come check out the living dead Opera ghost and on your way out make sure you hang your self in the torture chamber. I linger back in the shadows to see who it is. My eyes glow in the dark like small stars so I'm careful to not be seen. As the man tunes around I gasp. Daroga! 

I grit my teeth, how in the hell did you find your way down here? Fine you want a Ghost I'll give you a ghost. I watch him stumbling around the waters edge. I slowly walk over to him un noticed. I extend my hand out of the darkness.

"Salam pedar, Daroga."

He is right, you know. I can't believe I didn't think about that. What is it with me that I can't think straight when I look at her.

"Sorry, Raoul." I mumble and let go of him.

I go to my Goddess - no, my cousin Serena - and tell what a honor it is to meet her and how happy I am to learn that her dear father didn't exaggerate in his letters. At my mentioning the letters her face darkens. What did I do now?

Today is not my day. Really. I'm beginning to hate this day. Well, not exactly hate, but a strong dislike. I can't really hate something that much when it gave me the opportunity to meet my beauty with ebony skin.

I jerk myself by the sound of THAT voice. Dear Allah, I should have known it! If there is only one person which could pretend a ghost on this world, then it is certainly Erik. How it comes I didn't foresee it before - by the sight on these corridors, hidden doors and all of that? This was really a place suitable to him... as mysterious, dangerous and amazing in one as himself. But deep inside I knew the answer... I didn't foresee it as I would never believe such random can happen! But it was true and he was undeniably real. I suddenly didn't want to know if I shall be afraid of him or lucky that I met an old friend here, but due to my character I subconsciously choose the second possibility. After all, I have always liked him even when he didn't believe it and though I was in jail because of him, I was not capable of hating him. "What for a surprise!" I gave him a smile, taking his hand in mine. "Salam, Erik..." He didn't change at all... And he still doesn't call me by the name, but well, I am used to it

I nod, Lucy is right. I have truly no idea where this ghost can be found. And if he is a ghost, he can not be found. I sigh and turn my intention to my new friend.

"I am sorry Lucy." I smile at her. "It is just, I heard so much about this ghost and I am so curious about him." I giggle a bit.

"But you are right, let us talk in my room. It is much too noisy here." I look around seeing women awake from her fainting and crying. I hear men speak to their wives to calm them. This is very sad to see but I do not want to see this.

I take Lucy by the hand and bring her to my room. I open and let her enter. I have only a small room, but it is not the smallest, it already has a big mirror and a wardrobe. It also contains a small table with a small mirror, a sofa and a chair.

I gesture to the chair. "Please have a seat." I smile while closing the door. "Do you wish anything to drink, Lucy?"

I take the chair which Christine has offered to me.Thank you,this is much better.Perhaps a glass if red wine might help as well,if you do not mind.I understand how you feel Christine,about this ghost or man.I too am so curious of him.There must be a way that he can come and go as he pleases,but how?In my homeland of Scotland,I live in a castle which has many secert passegeways.Perhaps this is how he comes and goes,through passeges.Are there any that you know of Christine?Or maybe areas of the theatre that are not allowed to go to?As I wait for the wine and her answer,I think to myself that she is braver than she may think herself to be.To want to find such a being,not knowing the danger that may be ahead of us both,was both thrilling and a bit scary.

I star at at Daroga and swallow hard I have never been any good at small talk. I tap my foot on the ground nervously. I know my actions in Persian sent this innocent man to jail. He must have some anger towards me now. Dead silence whirls around us as he waits for me to speak as I wait desperately for him to say something anything. Uhhh thanks for going to jail for me.......... God I'm an dolt sometimes. What to say. I start griping for words. "So Nadir what brings you to Paris and to my humble abode?"

She was pulling me by the hand... MUCH too fast... Oh God, the world was
spinning again. I couldn't focus, couldn't breath, couldn't... Spinning
quickly... like a top. Only while walking straight.

How does one explain that?

"Please... slow don't... not so fast..."

My free hand pressed up against my skull in a desperate attempt to quell the
pounding. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

I didn't care if it was rude or not. I slipped my hand from Serena's and
stumbled towards a chair, sitting heavily and feeling my stomach creep
slowly up to my throat until I was struggling to keep from making a mess on
the pretty red carpet.

"I think... Ill stay here... until the room stops... stops moving."

With that, I closed my eyes and held onto the chair back for dear life. If
only I had some ice... a soft pillow... something to lessen the nausea

I can feel his apparent insecurity... yes, it has been long. He probably forgot that there's no reason for being nervous with me... But to hear this "Nadir" from him surprises me fairly. Well, I will speak if he wishes me to. "It was a random that the fate brought the two of us together again. I had no reasons for coming exactly to Paris except that it is as good as other cities in Europe. As I went to the opera today, everyone talked about the Ghost and that I can't sit in his box and such... Well, I believe in no ghosts, but as I spoke with that woman in black, I heard someone was in the box though. It was clear to me there must be an another entrance as a human can not just simply vanish into the air or fly away... I must admit it took me hours, but you know well I have a terrible habit to stick my nose everywhere though it's not my business..." I grin at him and then shrug my shoulders. "I was searching for a ghost and found you... Now when I recall some things, I am not that surprised." Go, Nadir, you see how unsure he is, do tell him something nice... My voice gets more quiet and serious as I say: "You may not believe it, but I am really pleased that I see you again. I have often thought of you." I rise one of my eyebrows. "Now do you make me some tea or do you send me away for intruding?" 

I nod and turn to get the wine. I keep listening to Lucys words and they make me think. I drift off in my thoughts and do not realize I spill the whole wine on the table.

"Oh no.." I stop and fill the second glass and hand both to Lucy, while I get a cloth to clean my table and the floor. "I do not know of any hidden passages or secret ways. I prefer the direct way." I smile while I keep cleaning the floor, on my knees.

"But since you were in a castle, could you help me finding a secret passage?" I stop cleaning the floor and clean the cloth under water, then I hang it over the handle of the door to dry. I walk back to Lucy and take my glass. I take a deep sip, cleaning uses to make me thirsty. Then I look back at her.

"Where could we start searching for him?"



I let Serena wander through the masses. Let her have some fun. She looks like she didn't get much in the past.

Why I did that, you ask.

Raoul looks a bit green around the nose.

"Here drink that." I give him a glass of something fruity. At least it looks like that. It was the first drink I got my hands on. "It will get better in no time."

He looks doubtful at me. "Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought." I try to stay calm. God, I hate it. Damn it, why can't I help him when he's ill. I'm his big brother, it's my duty to try to help him. But the only thing I am able to do is sit beside him and wait.

I feel so useless.

Tea?  He wants me to make him some tea? What kind of host would the living dead boy make? I can't bring him back to my house. What would he think. I leaned back against the brick wall uncomfortable. He's happy to see my? Why? I groaned softly at the fact that I was happy to see him too. I could not let him know that. I think the years of solitude down here has made me soft. "Daroga," I said bitterly, "I have many things to attends to now so I will say simply this, beware if you should fallow me or else you might tragically end up like poor Joseph Buquet." God why did I say that now he's going to connect you with his death. I quickly said, "Remember the scorpion and take care to keep away from  the 5th cellar."

I smile and watch Lucy. I begin to like her a lot. This happens rarely to me. People find me strange and avoid talking to me, to they hastily leave me. But Lucy is really very nice. Thanks to the gods, she doesn't seem to care that I am so curious about that ghost. Whenever I start speaking about him or my Angel of Music, who hopefully will come soon, they think me mad and run away. And I am scared Lucy might run too.

"Oh the mirror?" I turn and look at my reflection in that very mirror. "I did not get it, it was here as I got that room. I like it a lot." I smile. "Oh no I am not vain. I just like the way it is made." I turn away from the mirror, leaning with my back on that very mirror.

"OH my next performance? I do not know, since I did not do well on the last performance, I do not know when I am allowed to be on stage again. I am waiting for the managers to inform me." I play with the glass I hold in my hand, but it almost slips out of my hand. "Box 5!!??" My voice is suddenly high and shrill.

"Promise me not to ask for Box 5. It is the ghosts box.... maybe we should start searching there?" My mood changes from scared to excited.

I closed my eyes, drifting in and out of awareness, not really quite sure
what was going on. My brother was talking to me... I was clutching a chair
back like a life raft... I was about to vomit most horribly... my head
hurt...

"I'm sorry... Philippe... what did you say?"

God! I was so not... aware of things right now...

"I'm... I'm sure you have... other things to do right now... Ill be.... Ill be
fine... if you want to go..."

My stomach heaved and I clamped my jaw shut as I slid off the chair into
blackness. I don't even remember hitting the floor.

I lower my head, quite ashamed of my former reaction. See Nadir, he doesn't want you in his life and perhaps he never wanted. You didn't ask him if you CAN be his friend, you just tried to be one. How silly, why am I always doing such things? I just thought he was pretending his curtness because of how people treated him but maybe I was not right... I slowly looked into his eyes again. "You don't really want to kill me, do you?" Then I stared pondering his previous words and my eyes widen. "Joseph Buquet? What has happened to him?" I bit my lip. Why am I asking, he won't tell me anyway! "All right, I shall leave..." I said with a sudden sadness in my voice. "Though I don't know how." I was sure I will never find a way back from here... But I won't ask him for help! No. At least my pride will remain when nothing else. "Au revoir... I will find my way. But one last thing I would like to tell you. It's not wise to drive away those who are your friends. Maybe you will find it out once. I live on Rue de Rivoli." Then I turn away to leave this place.

 I lifted my head up when he said good bye. It has been more then 25 years since I'd seen Him last. It felt like 100. Nadir looked thinner and his once dark brown hair was now turning a light gray. My eyes gleamed in the darkness of the cellars. I searched for the words to make him not go. I was so desperately lonely, but I could not believe he told me where he lived as though I'd just walk right up to his door.  When he asked me if I really wanted to kill him my back stiffened. Of course not Daroga, I wanted to say, but the words got lodged in my throat. Oh God does he really think I could? After all this time after what he sacrificed just to save me.  Five year in the Mazanderan jail. What horror did he face? The funny thing was I always thought of him as a father to me even though he was not that much older he always looked after me. He was my consciences in Persia and now her five cellars bellow Paris's streets would he be the same. I started to laugh when he asked what happened to Joseph Buquet. I answered simply "He committed suicide...." I said finally, "The man obviously drank to much, become very depressed and hung him self."  Even now when I was away from the evil power opium hand on me in Persia I could still make a death sound like nothing. I turned to go, after all I had a lesson music to give, but something made me look back in longing. "Daroga, to get out of here fallow the tunnel back to the archway on the left side find the sixth brick form the bottom three over and press it. It will open a secret passage way to the Rue scribe, but I warn you do not attempt to come back down here or I can not be responsible for what could happen." Why must I always feel it necessary to threaten the only friend I've had. If it was different if I lived up there like a normal human then maybe we could still be friends. To much has changed. I can not walk around 19th century Paris like I did in Persia. It's not like I did not try to live normally. I even was able to persuade some poor man who was quite desperate for money to let me stay in his run down flat in the bad part of town. That did not last long at all. I could only take so much of the open sewers, the pimps parading their prostitutes around like they were just peaces of meat and the nightly robberies and murders. So I left that place and came here. What was I suppose to do. No one else would let me in. No one wanted me around. I'm sorry Daroga that this is what I've become an Opera Ghost. I'm sure that when you saved me that day when you where suppose to take me to jail you did not think I'd use my talents to become a ghost. Perhaps one day I could make you proud of me. But until then my friend, "Bon Nuit." I said as I turned to go. My heart sunk. As I left him on the banks of the underground lake. I could almost be sure he'd be back though. I new how curious he was. I just hope he take heed to be careful. there are many traps down here in my dark domain.

I calm a little at Lucy's nice words. I truly like her. "Yes Lucy, let us go to Box 5." I get up and step to the door. I turn back to her and face her. "I am so excited and scared in one." I try to smile a bit to hide my fear.

I do not even know why I am so scared. Did she say he is just a man? How can she know it? Oh she is so clever, so much more clever than me. I truly believe this is a ghost. Oh how naive I am!!

Are you sure you want to do this?I ask Christine.I can see in her eyes that she is a bit afraid,and I smile to try and calm her.You know my friend,fear can be a good thing if it is used properly.Fear helps to make us aware of things around us that we may not notice otherwise.Do not hide your fear,embrase it,and use it.If you are ready,then lets go to Box 5,and see what we can see,or not see,whatever the case may be.I give her a reasuring smile and hug,then glance into the mirror which is behind her.How old it looks,I think to myself.

I am about to leave, now when I know the right way... I could... But something inside of me stops my steps and I am not able to let him be... I have the feeling that if I did it, I would never see him again. And this I wouldn't want... not now when I have already found him after so long. But it hurts me to see him like this. What has happened to him? Every time I think he opens the door to his soul a little bit, he is already closing them again...and with a slam. Or am I just building a castle on a cloud and he really doesn't care for me... for anyone and anything? I am too old to pout as a child that he didn't invite me in. If I hadn't experienced all the sad things in my life, I would maybe leave and tell to myself - well, he didn't want a friend like you, his fault. However, now I don't want to loose him if it isn't necessary and maybe he needs someone as well. So I am going to give him one last chance. Either he has just his blocks - or he really doesn't see more than an intruder in me. I shall try to find it out. And instead of returning home, I walk back where he stands. "Erik... would you please listen to me for a while?" I try my courage. "I don't understand why are you doing this... But you won't get rid of me so easily. I believe when you tell me anything what has happened to Buquet wasn't your fault and I don't ask you why are you living here and pretending a Ghost though I regret you don't have a serious position which you deserve... Not because of I would like to admonish you, but because I have always wanted something better for a man of your talents. But I do ask you why are you so hostile to me who was always on your side. I have given a sacrifice for you - I don't regret it as I have done it of my own will, but it hurts me to see it was for nothing... I do believe it was not and that you didn't talk from your heart now... see... I do not have to visit your home and you don't have to visit mine, if you don't wish... we can meet anywhere else. You might not believe it but I still care for you, even when you are sending me away. I don't have any reasons for it except of the one that I am still your friend and friends always do  things like this." I hold my breath for a while, then lay my hand upon his shoulder softly. "If you really want me to leave forever, look at me and repeat it... Then I shall leave you alone and you will have my excuse for this begging."

    I feel my back bone twinge as Daroga lay's his hand on my shoulder. Never had any one touched me like that. My pure instinct was to pull away, but I tried my hardest not to. I felt myself panicking, from this simple gesture of friendship. My hand began to shake from the emotion bottled up deep inside of me. I wanted to run. I could feel tears choking up with in me. I had to get out of here and quick. I took a breath as I gently moved away form him, "I have no doubt that we shall meet again and as you have told me where to find you, perhaps I shall visit some time." I say as I slowly walk off into the darkness,  "Sæla bekheir Nadir......." My voice trails off into the distance. I turn only once to look back at Daroga my heart sunk.  I wish I had the power to stay. I new I'd see him again especially now that he knows I live here. 

     Back in may house I pace back and forth and then glanced at Ayesha. "What am I going to do?" I sigh, "Well miss Daaé seems to be very superstitious perhaps just the thought of the angel coming to her would make her believe I am real."  Tomorrow at promptly 8 am I shall go to Christine's dressing room and be her Angel of Music. I make a cup of tea and sit down on my red velvet ottoman. I sit there thinking soon I feel my self drifting off. 

I noticed Madame Giry's quick turn of her heel to leave the room.  Nodding silently toward Meg, I left the banquet hall with its shouting men and fainting women and followed her.

Apparently, the young Vicomte de Chagny had fainted.  I huffed.  I suppose now is not the time to speak with the mother of my love.  Instead, I offered my assistance.  I stood to my full six foot two inches and gave a slight bow of the head toward the Comte de Chagny and Madame Giry.

"Please, allow me to help you.  I am Marcus Wells, and I am at your service.  I am a stagehand here at the opera."

I didn't wait for their approval, but simply lifted the unconscious body of the Vicomte over my shoulder and let them lead the way.
Original message attached.

Oh God, what happened here? I don't know. I don't want to know.

"He hit his head. I thought it would get better and now..." I think I am under shock. I don't know what to do. The woman says something to me. Lift him... I do that and follow her.

While I am carrying my brother I see Serena follow us. She seems as disturbed as I feel. I hate it to be helpless.

What if...

I nodded and lifted his body in my arms.  Walking through the doors of the Opera, I stopped and waited for the Comte de Chagny to motion which carriage was his.

I could sense Madame Giry's anger, and I knew that when I re-entered the opera house, she would probably approach me because of Meg.  Still, I would never give up my love.

I awake to Ayesha purring loudly. I yawned and stretched then go back to sleep. 

I showed him my carriage and waited for him to get my little brother into it. Please, let him be okay. Please. I waited for Serena. She was not for behind us and I knew she would want to go with us. She just found her family. I don't want her to lose it again.

"Thanks, Monsieur." I sound like thousand miles away. But I don't care. Serena is now standing right behind him. "Serena." I whisper. She nods and gets into the carriage as well. I can see her cushioning Raoul's head on her lap.

My mouth dropped. This was the last thing I was expecting...for him to openly admit their affair! I had expected him to deny it, pretend nothing was going on. But to just admit to it! I could feel my features distorting horribly in anger. I could not seem to form words to this open statement. At last I found my voice.

"You do not wish to upset me?" I repeated, every syllable shaking with rage. "I believe it is too late for that." I drew myself up, he was much taller than I, but it did not intimidate me in the least. "My daughter is a child. How dare you carry on like this without my permission!" I raged.

And without letting him respond, I turned on my heel I stormed away in search of Meg. I spotted her without much difficulty, chatting with other members of the corps. I grabbed her arm and began to drag her away from the crowd.

"Meg Giry, how dare you keep that man a secret from me."

I nodded.  I reluctantly let her go and looked down at her.

"It's best this way, Meg."

We walked silently towards the dressing rooms, where Meg stopped at a closed door.

"Madame," I said, "I understand how you must feel, but I ask you to understand my feelings as well.  And those of your daughter."

I gasped, sitting bolt upright and looking around. Last I could recall... I
was sitting in a chair, and now I was in our carriage on Serena's lap with
Philippe over there and they both looked worried. Couldn't understand why. I
do remember that I had felt like I was drowning in ice cold blackness... Now
I wasn't. Was I asleep? Had a nightmare? Couldn't remember. It was quite
strange. But my head still hurt. I remember my head hurting, but I couldn't
remember why.

All very strange.

"For some peculiar reason, I don't remember getting here... Are we going home
already, brother?"

I feel so save in Lucy's embrace. What a nice and lovely person she is.

"I am scared, I am awfully scared, but not because of the ghost. It is because of you." I try to smile. "You seem the first one that understands me."

I take her hand and lead her out of my room. Together we approach Box five and as nobody watches, we sneak inside.

I look around in the box. It looks similar to the other boxes in that range. But I have a strange feeling, the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.

I awake form my sleep in a panic box fives alarm has gone off. What the devil I think Daroga it's hardly been but five hours. I get up from the ottoman in a sweat practically knocking poor Ayesha to the floor. There was an electric charge that would go off and electrocute who ever was inside box five. Daroga must have messed with the pillar. Madam girly new better then to touch the pillar why don't you? I rushed up flights of stares swat poring form my white temples. Daroga you stupid curious thing what is wrong with you? You lucked out last time because I had not turned on the mechanism last time and you where able to pass threw the pillar unscathed. Am I going to be constantly saving you from my well planed traps to protect me form curious minds. I was fastening my dress shirt as I ran. 4th cellar, 3erd cellar, I ran with impeccable speed. Finally I reached the pillar entrance. I ran up the spiral stair case expecting to find a very fried Persian. To my shock I heard two girl voices. Oh god two of the corps de ballet must have gained enough courage to go on an adventure. I griped the leaver to turn off the electrical currant, but it was stuck. I pulled hard on it but nothing was helping. I had no idea how long I had before the unthinkable would happen. Then like deaths tight grip around my neck I heard a voice that sent shivers down my spin. It was not two ballet girls at all it was Christine and Lucy. Oh I thought get out get out of box five you fools. I could feel the panic making me sick to my stomach. What do I do. It must have only been seconds, but the time felt like hours. I pulled on the switch with all the strength of Goliath. If they die because of me I shall die here right now. Tears started to fall from my eyes because I was to scared to open the pillar and heard them out of box five like a hero. Oh god I was frozen with shock. I heard the surge of electricity rush like a speeding train threw the cords. My voice choked up in my throat. "geeeeet oooooooooout...." I whispered. I scratched on the inside of the pillar like a trapped and helpless rat. I hoped that my scratching would be enough to scare them. Then I started to moan. Hopefully they would think I was the ghost and run before it was to late. Oh god help them.

Believe me or not but I felt as though a spirit ran up the cellars and the closer it came, the more nervous I got. I looked for Lucy's hand and took it. I started to whisper. "Something will ha-"

But all of sudden I heard this voice whisper us to get out, combined with that scratching sound and that moaning, those awfully sad sounding moaning. I turn to Lucy, as pale as my white linen on my bed. "Oh my god..... Lucy.... the ghost....."

To my very own surprise I do not faint or something, I just press Lucy's hand very hard.

Sshh,Christine,listen.I turn to her and see she is so very pale I wrap my arm around her and gently pull her from Box 5.Once we are just outside of Box 5,I turn to her and say. Did you not hear that? Just before that awful moaning, there was a strange sort of humming from the pillar. I think you are right,I think something would have happened, but what I do not know.I only knew we were in grave danger as I am sure you knew as well.Stay here for a moment.I take my arm from her and step a little closer to the Box 5.The humming is gone, I take her hand and pull her gently over to me.See,its stopped.I wonder what it was,I say out loud.Stay here.I move one step closer,till I am just the the very edge of stepping into the Box. I take out a handkerchief from my little purse,and throw it into Box 5.Suddenly the humming starts up,and within seconds my handkerchief is gone.I jump back,almost knocking into Chrsitine.I turn to her,my face pale from the shock of what just happened.That would have been us I think to myself.Chrisitne,we must leave here,may we go back to your dressing room? There is much danger within this Box. Though not from a ghost I think.

I gasp just a Lucy pulls Christine form the box in time. Oh god why did I ever rig this pillar with electricity.  I those days not many people even new it existed. It was still a new concepts and even fewer new how to harness it. Just as I think they are safe I see Lucy's shadow lean back in as she throws her handkerchief on the floor in an instant the electrical current goes off and disintegrated  it into nothing more then a pile of dust. I watch helplessly as the fabric turns to ash before my very eyes. I see the two girls shadows jump back into the hallway in fear. My heart almost leaps out of my chest that could have been them. I feel an overwhelming guilt surround my ominous body. With a massive surge of strength I leap back and kicked the switch with the heal of my boot. The force of my kick breaks the switch in the off position.  I slid down to the floor in a crumpled mess. I have killed many people mostly in the Persian court, but never have I felt to disturbed by this close call. I feel the tears begin to spill down my bony cheeks in cascades. I let my heavy death head fall into my hands. I wanted nothing more then to run out into the hall way and scoop Christine and Lucy up in my arms and say how happy I was that they were ok and tell them that I would promise to never let any harm come to them or any one else in the Opera house again. I laughed sarcastically to my self imagining the look on there faces when they noticed that a unmasked corpse was hugging them. In my flurry I had forgotten to grab my mask. I ran my thin skeleton fingers over my tear soaked face. I remembered when I was younger much much younger I had made the bad mistake of looking into a mirror. At first I had thought it was a monster like the ones your told live in your closet or under your bed, but all to quickly I realized the monster was me. I had pounded my fists against the reflective glass causing it to shatter and fall in torrents down upon me. The flash of shattered glass, blood and pain was something I would for get. Even to this day I avoid mirrors. I walk past them quickly in the foyers looking at my feel as I pass. It's even to painful with my mask on. I hear voices in the hall way which snaps me back into reality. I gather my composure and head to threw the walls to Christine's dressing room.  

Shh, little brother. Everything will be all right. You will get well in no time.

That or a similar way was the path my thoughts wandered while we drove home. I could see Serena silently combing Raoul's hair with her fingers. I don't think she realized what she is doing.

Her eyes are looking at something far away. Like she is remembering. Thinking.

And the next moment Raoul sits up. Just like that. One moment he is laying in her lap, unconscious and dead to the world, the next moment he is awake.

I let Lucy almost willingly pull me around. It was as if I had no free will. And yes, for my safety and even for Lucy's safety we left the box. Stupidly I was about to go back as I saw Lucy's handkerchief.... disappear? I can not find any words. It just was... gone??

I screamed loud, feeling Lucy hit me and from my own fear. What in heavens name was this? Could this have happened to us as well? Could we have... disappeared? Where would we have landed? In... heaven? In.. hell? For our sake, NO!!

With my last bit of streangth I take Lucy's hand and drag her away from that horrid box. I swear to myself, never again to enter this place of hell. Never in my life will I forget those sounds and that handkerchief.

Stumbling we enter my dressing room again. I fall on my knees and breathe hard. "Oh.. my.. god.." Is all I can manage to say, as I look at Lucy. Tears ran down my face. "We could have been.... killed?" I shudder at the thought of it.

My Papa always said Curiosity killed the cat, and this saying is so very right!!

I hold onto Lucy and cry. "You.. you think.. its no.. no ghost? But what is it then?" I look at her, not quite understanding. Does she mean this is a real man?

I tilt my head. "Why did you say anything about me in your letter?" I wonder about that a lot. Lucy didn't care for herself as she went back but she cares for me? Why, just why?

I take another sip of my wine.

I look at Christine."I did not mention you because I do not want harm to come to you.You are important to the Opera House,your needed.I am not.Besides your my friend,at least I hope.I smile to her.

"The beginning of the new opera season.  Several months, Mamma.  I am sorry to have kept it from you for so long, I did not wish to upset you."

I reached out my hand and touched her fingers.  "Please, Mamma, please forgive me, and accept him.  I am begging you, mother."

I waited for her response, not knowing exactly how she would react.  The thought of Marcus and I leaving Paris crossed my mind in that moment, and I furrowed my brow.  No matter what she said, we would be together.

I stood, and reached for her arm.  My tears matched those that I heard in her voice and I stifled a sob.

"It's not a hapless affair.  That much I know.  I have never felt this way about anyone, Mamma.  Not even Jaques.  And I was but a child then, Mamma.  I love Marcus.  And I will do anything to prove it."

I wrapped my arms around her, praying that she would return my embrace.

"And I love you, Mamma."

I smile at Lucy. Me and needed, no way. "I am not needed, Lucy, neither I am important. I am just a small singer. Nothing important.!

As I went to go fetch the note Lucy had so boldly written I over heard Meg and Madam Giry conversing obviously about Marcus. I sighed, at least she was able to love some one and have some one love her in return. A common pleasure that is all to often taken for granted. I came back to my seat behind Christine's mirror. Listening to the two girls talk and reading Lucy's note. I smiled bitterly. She thinks she is not afraid of me. How dare she think that I would hurt Christine. I folded the note and placed it in my coat's breast pocket. Surely Christine would send Lucy away and practice her singing soon and that would be when her angel would first be heard.

I am worried about Lucy a lot. secretly I admire her braveness. She is a lioness while I am just a mouse. I am scared of every- and anything. I take a look at my watch and gasp. It is morning already!!! "Lucy." I scream out rather loud.

I calm a bit and smile. "Have you seen that it is morning already? It is past 6 am. We have rehearsal today at 8 am." I am scared of asking her to leave and hope she might notice what I have to say.

I look at Christine startled by her scream. Is everything alright?, Then she tells me the time."Oh dear,I am sorry for keeping you up so,you must be so sleepy.Please forgive me!"I stand and hug her."I will take my leave of you my friend,just promise to tell me when next you sing so I may hear you.Then I will go to my rented house and leave you to sing."

I smile at Lucy. "Oh no, you did not keep me up. In fact I am happy we had such a...." I stop and reflect that night. "....interesting night." I smile at her and extend my hand. "I m glad we met. Oh wait!! What is your address? Could you leave it for me?" I had her a sheet of paper.

I give Christine the note,and hug her goodbye,then take my leave so she may rest.

As I walk into the street,I think of the nights events,well I wanted adventure,I say to myself,and smile as I turn the corner and walk up the small flight of stairs to my house.

I smile as she leaves me ad look at myself in the mirror. I am pale and have red eyes from a night without sleep, I should eat something and wash my face. I wear too much make-up from the performance still.

I step very close to the mirror and trace on the reflection along my face. I have never thought of myself as pretty, I see myself as too skinny and too pale. My eyes are much too big and my nose is too small. I whisper. "I am ugly...."

      I lean down close to the mirror where Christine is. I place my shaking hand on the cold glass and fallow her hand like a reflection. Why does she think she is ugly? I gasp, threw all of my travels she is quite possible the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I feel my heart pounding in my chest. For the first time I have a since of warmth run threw my otherwise cold body.  I close my eyes and see a blanket of red velvet roses cover me. It was like a dream I had found my true love yet I could never touch her. This mirror which was like a brick wall stood before us. Poisonous like a scorpions sting I felt the twinge of solitude even though we where merely inches apart. I stood up strait and looked down at her my voice swelled I swallowed hard say something you idiot. Her is your chance. I start softly singing. This first thing that came to mind was a gipsy tune I was quite fond of.  I first started gentle one would think they where hearing things. My voice resonated off the chair in the corner of the room. Then I stopped slowly.  I waited  in silence for her to say something.

"I am so very sorry I frightened you, brother... I... I just... Cant even
remember what happened. My head hurts."

I sighed, "And there I go, cutting short your first night in Paris with my
troublesome head... I do hope you will forgive me, cousin. I must seem a
frightful bore to you just now."

I lean against the mirror and try to gather my thoughts as suddenly such a wonderful song is to be heard. I stand straight with my back to the mirror and think. We have rehearsals in a few hours and no-one is actually so early at the Opera. And I know no-one with such a wonderful voice.

I move a little, so I think, towards the voice in the corner, but it stops. I stop moving as well. My breath come slow. I need to hear that voice again. So wonderful, so angelic. I tilt my head. Angelic?? Was this maybe???? Maybe the Angel my Papa spoke of?

Without me really noticing, I speak, only one word and barely audible. "Angel....?"

My heart stops. I can't talk oh wait have I done. I can't do this. What of this child's integrity? I long to speak I saw her swaying to my voice. I was well aware of the power I have over people especially women when I sing. I grasp what little courage I have and replay softly. 

       'Yes it is I the Angel of music. Your father has asked me to come and teach you to sing like the choirs in heaven. He loves you very much and was very persuasive. He talked me into coming to see you by telling me how talented you are.  Hush now and listen. I am prepared to give you a gift, but it is not with out sacrifice. You must give up all worldly vises such as relationships. You must give yourself completely over to music. If you do this you shall be the greatest singer the world has ever known. You don't have to make your decision right now I shall return to you in a weeks time. Then you will give me your decision.' 

I knew giving up Lucy's friendship was a horrible thing for me to ask of her. Considering she was the only friend she had. I had to see how serious she was about lessons only then might I get a lenient .

Home at last,I think to myself as I begin to undress and slip on a lilac nightgown.I sit at my mirror in the bedroom and being to brush out my long red hair.As I do so I think of my new friend Christine.The only one who approached someone new as myself.I sigh,put down the brush,and go to the bed and lay down for a bit.Just as I begin to fall asleep,I wonder if it was a mistake leaving Christine alone.A feeling of fear grips me just as I fall asleep.

"You are no thing like that" I say to him while I ask his brother silently how long it will take to get home. Why I think about a house I've never seen as home I don't know.

"Yes, you frightened me, little brother." Philippe says. "But you will get better. A doctor will await us at home." Strange how his eyes get darker. Like he is really... Do I really want to know?

Some minutes later we arrive at a nice house. Very... French, I think. I was never that fond of architecture, but I knew that our mansion in New Orleans was a copy of the Old Home.I didn't believe it. Now I do.

Servants are helping to bring Raoul into the house. Philippe is right behind him. I don't know what to do. I can't help here. So I ask a maid for something to eat. I am always hungry when I'm nervous.

I hope Raoul will get better. Head injuries are frighteningly dangerous.

I can not believe my ears. The Angel of Music is here? My heart beats fast, twice as normal. It feels for me as if it wants to jump out of my chest. I clap my hands and press them on my chest to keep my heart in it.

"An- Angel.. is.. is truly you..?" My eyes fill with tears. Oh thank you Papa. oh thank you so much!!!! But what does he tell me? What does he ask me to do? Doesn't he know I would do everything?? EVERYTHING!!! I would give up all to be taught by the Angel of Music. I try to speak again.

"I.... I do not need ti- time to think... I.. I made my decision... right now..." I think of Lucy, I think of Meg and of all the others I know and my heart becomes heavy. But this is the Angel of Music!!! This is the mment I have been waited for!!!!

"I... I will follow all your instructions... please do....not leave me again, Angel." I lift my arms up to the ceiling as if it was the heaven, where my Angel is in.

     I gasp at the child's quick response. She is quite sure of herself no doubt. A smile crosses my twisted lips as I clasp my gloved skeleton hands together in boyhood glee. Oh how wonderful to be able to tech this girl all I know. She will be my voice. A voice that has been snuffed  for far to long in this underground mortuary of silence. She will sing like no one has ever heard before. I watch her raise her hands up to ceiling as though it was the havens above. I through my voice down from the ceiling as though I was perched up there. 

    'I am flattered my dear, at your promptness in response, but I want to give you time to sever all worldly bonds before we start your lessons.  If others hear of your lessons they will be skeptical merely tell them I am your maestro and that is all.'   

   My hands reach out to touch the thin glass in front of me. There is no turning back now. I now am the Angel of music. I glace back at Christine who seems to be in a bit of a trance. I am worried about the effect of my voice on her. I remembered with a shutter the gypsy circuses In Roumare where I traveled for years in a cage being exhibited like some animal. I remembered the fateful day Javert discovered I could sing. Oh what a horrible day that was. I still can remember the power I had over the crowds of ladies when I sang. Their eyes filled with ecstasy. What command I had over their week minds, but with power came a great danger. I was all too familiar with this. Now Christine was under my spell as well. I could only hope that no danger would come from my curious meddling with the supernatural powers of my voice.  What was the danger after all? I'm only a spirit to her and she is safe behind her mirror.

I listen, I listen closely and almost ecstatic to my Angels words. All he says, all he commands and orders, I shall do it. My father told me once to do so and I will comply.

"Yes Angel, I will do all you say. But what exactly must I do?"

I feel lightheaded. There is a small voice inside me that warns me, but I ignore it for now.

"Please tell me." I lower my arms, since his voice now comes from somewhere else.

I rang my hands nervously as I searched for words. Exactly what must she do Angel??? I said bitterly under my breath. Ok I thought quickly. Then I raised my self up and spoke commandingly clear.

     '~First you must break off all friendships besides the ones that would further your career. 
      ~Second you must never get married or have a relationship with a man. For if you where to get married I'd be forced to leave and you would never hear me again.

      ~Third you must sing only for your angel and no one else.

      ~Fourth you mustn't tell any one of our meetings.

      ~And finally you must only rehearse for the leading roles do not waits your time with chorus. And do not worry about Carlotta I will take care of everything.

        that is all  abide by these rules and I will stay and teach you. Disobey me and I shall go away for ever.'

I stood there watching her every move. waiting for her to respond.

I listen closely and gasp a bit. I had never thought that The Angel of Music would ask such things. The little voice inside me becomes louder but I keep ignoring it. Who can know about the Angel of Music?

"Yes.. yes Angel.. I .. will follow all your instructions...."

My voice is much smaller and quieter than before. This little voice started to confuse me more and more.

"But how... will I meet you again?"

   'I will find you mon cher. I will return tomorrow morning promptly at 8 am. Be here in your dressing room. Now I do believe you have a rehearsal to go to. A tout a l'heure.'

    I find myself floating closer to the mirror in front of me as though it was not there at all. My heart beating fast I want to say more, but I knew I could over do it. I hated being so strict with Christine, but if someone of better judgment where to ketch wind of An angel teaching her I'd be found out for sure. I could not take that chance. I knew I'd have no problem with Madam Valerius, Christine's benefactress, inquiring about her strange teacher. I had over heard that she was just as superstitious and also believed in this Angel of music business. Poor girl has been up all night surly she need rest. I hopped the rehearsal today would not be too long for her. Perhaps an 'accident' was in order to cut it short. 

I nod. I had completely forgotten about rehearsal or anything else. But as he bids me goodbye, I feel so tired suddenly. One night without sleep, I feel it. At least I can stiffle my yawn.

"A tout a l'heure, mon Ange." I whisper softly. Not kowing of what to think of all this, I go to my rehearsals. And for the first time I am too early for rehearsal.

   I smiles even though she could not see it, but it made me happy. For the first time in my life I think I'm actually happy. I fallowed her behind the walls until I could no longer. Then I climbed up in to the rafters in the practice room. I saw all the little ballet girls prancing around the room. They were of course bickering about the scandal of Joseph Buquet death. I dare say I hope they do not scare Christine with them.

I walked with a smile on my face toward the other ballet girls.  Not noticing the chatter that invade the air, I simply began my stretches and thought of how my mother and I had grown a bit closer.

I glanced at Christine.  I had really hoped that all of this Joseph Bouquet talk hadn't frightened her.

I heard the balletgirls chatter about something but I did not pay attention at all. My mind was surrounded by so many thoughts. I wished so badly it would be tomorrow morning at 8 am. Why cant it be tomorrow already? Why? I can not wait anymore.

I notice nothing and nobody around me, not Meg, not anybody else.

I leaned over the railing looking over the dance room. I spotted Meg first then Christine. I sighed softly. Where was that rat Carlotta, does she think every one has to wait for her?  Then I noticed the Dance instructor. Always very shrewd he was. Perhaps I should loosen him up a bit. And with that I throw a sand bag off the railing nearly missing one of the ballet girls and landing with a large thud before the ballet master sending the entire room in to complete pandemonium.

Firmin and Andre hurried 2 the ballet girls. They had to keep this group quiet about Buquet's death. They had enough to deal with, they were starting to doubt that the Opera Ghost was really the joke they had laughed about and thought if they should take his demands seriously or fight him. Now they had to keep the dancers quiet to keep Scandal from arrising. Just how to do it was the question. Andre suggested they find Mme. Giry to do their bidding for them, she could keep the girls quiet. So off they went searching for her.

I tried to be strong as my foot falls resounded up the hallways,
announcing my return to the opera.  After the fright of that
disgusting creature at the gala, and the later news of Buquet's
death, I'd had little strength to meet the new managers that
night.  "I'll be ready this time!" I told myself.

Right as I reached the doorway to the dance hall (where already the
chatter of the ballet rats was sonorous), I was greeted with a loud
THUD! as a sandbag fell a few mere inches in front of the dance
master's feet.  As the girls began to rush about, screaming with
fright, I stared upward from where the bag must have fell.  I'd had
enough of these tricks.  This diva was angry!

Firmin and Andre hurried over to try and calm Carlotta down. "Senora!" Andre said softly, "Please calm down, surely this was a mere accident, we'll get to the bottom of this immediately" Firmin in the meantime called all stagehands to find out how the sandbag fell.

My eyes narrowed, staring fixated at the spot where the bag surely
must have fallen from.  Had someone been up there?  Was it
that...that thing from last night??

I turned to the sound of Andre's voice.  I took a deep breath, not
wanting to unleash my full anger upon them after having just barely
met.  "An accident?  No, I think not!  There was someone up there..."

I looked around, realizing that many of the girls had scurried out of
the hall.  "¡Oh mi padre!  Are we going to have a rehearsal or
not?"  I looked once more up to the rafters above.  'If I'm not going
to be spending time working on this damned production, I want to find
out what on earth that creature is...'

 Creature? Oh my dear Carlotta I'd watch my self if I were you. I started laughing historically, which of course did not help the situation any. Hopeful this little act will make all doubters clear that the Opera ghost is not a thing to be taken lightly. I looked down at Christine she seemed to be in her own world and not noticing anything. I dearly hope no one thought her at the root of this. 

During  the rehearsals I was deep in my thoughts and extremely happy. I did not even notice the sandbag fall, I just heard a big BANG!!!! and then I found myself on my back again, looking at the sandbag and at an angry Carlotta.

All ballet girls ran off terrified. I of course as well. I locked myself in my room and looked in the mirror, murmuring for my Angel to come.

Of course it was probably done deliberately. Andre and Firmin were getting very tired of thier friend the Opera Ghost. It was time to take action, so the two began to debate whether or not it would be a good idea to call in some inspectors to hunt around the Opera House.

An accident? Why lie to them messieurs, this is the work of the Ghost surely. He must be angry with something. He never did these things before. I mean with the um......old Opera Owners. Come come girls lets go we have a performance in two days and we are far from being ready. I'd advise you all to touch the horse-shoe on the table in the passage out side the stage door keepers box for good luck.  Messieurs I'd suggest you to do the same. La Sorelli put it there for luck and it's worked thus far.

With scowls on their faces Andre and Firmin each touched the horse shoe. This whole affair was beginning to get absurd.

'Messieurs.' I ran threw the theater looking for the Opera owners after rehearsal. 'I did not want to further frighten the ballet girls, but I don't think Joseph Buquet's death was suicide.'  crossed my self and grabbed for my ankh.  'If you ask me I think it was the ghost. Joseph was always sticking his head where it did not belong and telling such stories. The ghost doe snot like being disobeyed or talked about.' I rubbed my tarnished silver ankh nervously. 'Not that I'm trying to say the ghost is dangerous I mean nothing like this has veer happened. It all started when that Christine girl sang. If you asked me she's bad luck. Very queer girl she is. Always off in her own world running about as if in a trance. Any way just thought you'd like to know. 

I snorted at the opera owners ha threaten me will you??? And that twit Jack Wolf Always crossing him self like I'm some demon or something. Your a long way form home my friend and there are no Vampires here. Left the rafters to retreat down to the fifth cellar.

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