Phantasia

1

Hi everyone, I'm writing this at 2 am because phantom of the opera fanfics on here are ass so I wanted to write my own! Enjoy!

Christine

Why can't the past just die?

Those words hold two meanings for me now.

It's been 15 years since the first time I left my home; two years ago was the second. The Opera Populaire. I can still smell the candle sconces all along the halls. I can still hear the applause all through the theatre. I can still feel the cold, damp ground of that godforsaken catacomb passage. The passage that led to....

Should my mind refollow that path, I may never stop thinking. It's almost 10 in the morning,
I need to get out of bed!

It's been so hard to wake up at a proper time this past month. Raoul has been down in Bordeaux, discussing business matters with all the noblemen down there. When he asked me to come with him, I told him I'd prefer to stay here in Paris. It's been a dreadful winter- Raoul knows this time of year always has me feeling awfully down. So he kissed my head, and told me he would have Meredith, our maid, keep me company. He's so very understanding of me. I'm forever thankful for that.

I finish brushing carefully through my curls, and open my wardrobe. Today I'm going out into town for groceries, and to deliver a letter to Raoul. I decide on a white blouse and a long blue skirt. I look out the window to see a light snowfall. I grab my black winter cloak, a pouch of money, and I'm off.

Town square is still buzzing, nonetheless. The slight weather just can't halt gossip and activity. I walk into the grocery store and purchase a couple loaves of bread, some corn, and cans of soup.

"Good morning, Miss Daae," says the man at the counter. "That'll be 20 francs."

"Good morning sir," I returned. Behind him, two workers stood talking. I didn't mean to pry, but one specific word caught my attention.

Chandelier.

I couldn't help myself. "Pardon me, what was that about a chandelier?"

The two workers looked at me with apparent realization. "Miss Daae! Good morning! Why, we were just discussing the Opera Populaire. I'm sure you've heard of the recent news," The one said. I scrunched my eyebrows. "I don't believe I do."

The man at the counter then hands me a newspaper. "I'd have thought you of all of Paris would know about this, Miss Daae. It's all the buzz right now."

I take the newspaper and stuff it in with my groceries, pay, and then leave the store rather urgently. I walk at a quick pace the whole way home, not even noticing the gossip surrounding me. All I could hear were fragments of,

"Opera house"

"Haunted"

"Disaster"

As soon as I closed the door of the house, I dropped the bag and pulled out the newspaper. I sat down by the fireplace and read,

THE FAMOUS OPERA POPULAIRE: DOWN IN FLAMES, BUT UP FOR AUCTION!!