The air stung her nose, filling each breath with the unmistakable scent of burnt wood. Her eyelids were heavy, like someone was holding them closed and it took an effort just to open them and look at her unknown surroundings.
Well, it was unknown to likely anyone who gazed upon the burnt shambles of wood blazing not ten feet from her. The ringing in her ears persisted, even as the muffled voice grew louder behind her.
But she could only stare at the black soot coating her hands, coating the grass beneath her...the voice grew, louder but still unrecognizable.
Who was calling her?
What were they saying?
Suddenly, the voice seemed to crawl within her very brain and echo throughout her.
"Ignis"
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Anastasia shot up in her bed, soaked with sweat once again, and she couldnt help the small sigh that escaped her lips as she realized it was another dream.\
The room she dwelled in was small, and it smelled as if though something had died, but it was all she could afford right now.
She pulled her old suitcase from underneath the bed, setting it on the flimsy old blanket that cover the mattress she packed what little she had. A few dresses, a nightgown, and a pair of brown shoes with rusty buckles.
It seems as though her entire life could fit inside this suitcase. At least the parts she knew would fit. Her memory of the life she had before she was thirteen had gone up in smoke like that wretched house that held all of her secrets, even from her.
No one could figure out the cause of the fire and nobody knew who she was. Anastasia made her own name, and formed her own identity, and made a life out of what little she could.
In the midst of her packing, she changed into a plain brown dress that had been patched a few too many times, and pulled her brown hair into a tight bun.
The apartment complex was owned by a kind old woman, and Anastasia knew she could come here for sanctuary if she ever needed it .
With a quick farewell from the woman she left, headed out for the famous Paris Opera house.
CHANGES BEING MADE
There was a desk of sorts set up just inside by the doors, and a man sat behind it enthralled by some sort of paperwork before him.
"Can I help you Mademoiselle?" he said in a curious, but friendly tone. She nodded "I am looking to audition to sing here, could you please tell me where the managers office is?" The man directed Anastasia to the managers office, and she knocked on the door, hoping they would answer. Sure enough, the door opened and a man with a mustache, who was quite short considering he was only a little taller than Anastasia, opened it. Another man walked up behind him, who was considerably taller and leaner than the first man. "Hello Mademoiselle, do come in." the shorter man said calmly. Anastasia smiled and walked into the office. It was an average size, and had a one very long mahogany desk with two chairs on either side. "My name is Monsieur Andre, and this is my college Monsieur Firmin" he began. "How can we hep you?" Anastasia wrung her hands nervously "Hello Monsieur's, my name is Anastasia and i was hoping to become one of your ballerinas. I have some ballet experience at a ballet school in a town near Verona, Italy." The two men looked at each other, and then back at Anastasia with pity, causing her to grow slightly angry. She hated being pitied. "I apologize Mademoiselle, but I'm afraid we have no room for any more dancers." her heart sunk to her stomach. "Monsieur please I will accept any work you offer!" She said frantically. She had no where else to go, and especially no one to go to. Monsieur Firmin leaned in his chair towards his colleague and whispered something in his ear. "I suppose if you really needed work, we always have room for another maid." it wasn't the position she was looking for, but it was work. "Thank you Monsieur's, it truly means a lot." She said as they all stood. Hopefully she could wait until a position opened up. But it was work, and it allowed her to continue staying in Paris. If she had not found a job, she would not be able to continue staying at her apartment complex. The apartment was under a fake mans name, as she was not able to own property since she was a woman. Anastasia and the managers figured out her working times and wages, and she returned to her room to sleep.
Authors Note: Sorry that this chapter was a little short, i just wanted to set the scene. Please vote if you enjoyed and leave any suggestions you have in the comments <3
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The Girl on Fire-A Phantom of the Opera fanfiction
FanfictionAnastasia Rose moves to Paris to work at the Paris Opera House. She hopes to become a singer but when the Prima-donna, also known as Carlotta steps in she is forced to become a maid instead. But there is something about Anastasia that no one knows...
