The Phantomess

~Chapter 3~

-LYRICA'S POV-
Several years have passed since I arrived to the Opera House, the place that now I call home. I became easily familiarized with the trapdoors and secret passages that were in the most hidden places you can imagine.
I also have a "lair" as well. As I couldn't dare to go out in the light of day, I stole some furniture from the Primma Donna room. Not many things, just a vanity, a bed and some clothes that I modified to suit my necessities. I mean, I cannot move around the Opera House in a puffy dress. So I modified them to be a lot less heavy and black.
All my wardrobes were black,red,purple or a combination of the three.
Also, I had many masks that covered my horrible deformity. My face was once normal, it was once, if I can call it like that, "pretty", but after the abuse of my drunk and psychotic father, everything was lost. It was the fault of that man that I have to hide in the shadows, lonely in this world of sadness that embraces me.
I only wished that I had someone to talk to. Only one person at least, that wasn't horrified by my face...
But it was impossible, who would like to spend time with a monster like me?

Anyways, I decided to go for my payment. Since I arrived the Opera House, I discovered that I could easily terrify the managers with some of my elaborated illusions. The more scared they are, the more payment I receive.
And they did know that if my payment wasn't there when required, the consequences would be extremely expensive.
Like me killing someone.
Sometimes, when I get bored I love to go and haunt the ballet rats. I love when they scream "The Opera Ghost!"
But after that, the only person that knew about my existence, a woman named Antoniette Giry would yell angrily at me when we were alone, or write a note saying the girls weren't a toy for me to play with.

Madame Giry was the ballet instructor, she found me when I was crying in one of the cellars, some time after I arrived to The Opera House. She looked really disgusted with my face, but she showed a little compassion and gave me a mask.
It was my first mask, a simple black mask that covered the damaged half of my face. But no matter how hard she tried to heal my wound, it wouldn't get any better. I think it got even worse...
But she often talked with me and helped to build my lair, and she also helped me to go through the "phase" when I was about twelve, you know what I'm talking about.

But after some time, when I turned fourteen, about three years ago, she said I should live on my own, and that she wouldn't say anything.
She knew what I was capable of. The only thing she said before leaving me on my own was " Someday, you will find him. You two are incredibly alike" I didn't knew who she was referring to, but I forgot with the pass of the years.
After being dumped and damaged by my own father, I learned how cruel the world was. I learned to kill and defend myself, how to set mortal traps and brew immediate-killing poisons. But that's not the only thing I learned.
I learned how to play the majority of musical instruments, the violin and piano are still my favorites.

Now I can do many things, from playing any instrument to the ability of mixing with the shadows, stealing things without a noise and perfectly managing the art of throwing daggers.
I learned this things by traveling many parts of the world, after I settled my home in the dungeons or the "Underground Maze" as many call it. I traveled to Japan and China, learning about music and mastering the art of concentration.
When I traveled to Russia, I learned to speak multiple languages, such as French,Italian,Spanish,African,Chinese,Russian (obviously) and English, which I already knew, but practiced often to expand my vocabulary. German wasn't necessary, since I grew up in the German frontier.

Sometimes, when I felt lonely I sang.
I know it sounds weird, but... Since I arrived to the Opera House, I stopped dreaming about my mother. No matter how hard I tried, she wouldn't appear. She was the only one that would truly help me, and comfort me.

"I need to play" I say to myself as I shake my thoughts away. "That always makes me forget my disgraced life a little" and with that, I was sitting in my black organ, gently pressing the keys. My hand glided gracefully through the organ, making beautiful sounds. As I reached the end of the song, "he" came to my mind.

"I wonder who was or who is the boy that Giry was talking about..." I said to myself as I putted on my black and silver cloak, some knee-length black boots and my beloved mask.