Wishing That You Would Be Here

Chapter 15- A Life to Live

*Erik*

Three years later

I have trained Christine for three years now, and her angelic voice was more beautiful than ever. She was the real Angel of Music, not I; a monster from a gypsy camp that has been lying to this innocent girl for  three years.

During that time period, I built many secret trapdoors and two-way mirrors to use to my advantage. I also played little innocent pranks on the Prima Donna, La Carlotta. I put various little animals in her dressing room and  giggled as I watched the woman go crazy with fear. I received my salary of 20,000 franks per month and eventually I had my home in the deep catacombs of the opera house.

A few years ago, when I first came here, the cove by the underground lake was cold and damp. Now, after it became my new home, the cove is always illuminated with candles and has a very strange yet comforting feeling; which I have never felt before. I felt like this was the best time of my life.

My alarm suddenly rang, announcing my time for departure to go to my lesson with Christine. I felt so happy in her presence. She was the most precious person to me, and I would give my life for her. I stepped into my boat and rowed away to the other side of the lake with everlasting mist swirling arond my boat.

*Christine*

I was beyond happy. The angel remained with me until now and was caring for me as if he'd known me my entire life. He taught me each night, and soon my voice soared almost as high as his majestic voice, which I could have never compared myself with. My angel was pure perfection. He never pushed me into doing anything, and he gently gave me a helping hand whenever I needed it.

As with the life in the Opera House, everything went as always. Carlotta was screeching her way through every practice. The ballet girls were still as interested in gossip and ghosts as ever, and Madame Giry too was still the same. Meg's gossiping and story telling remained on the same level, but her only topic in ghost stories was the Opera Ghost.

Whenever something bad happened to the Prima Donna, the reason for that was the Opera Ghost, or as Meg sometimes calls him, the Phantom of the Opera. Soon the whole opera didn't call him anything else but the Phantom. I must say, some of the Phantom's tricks were pretty funny, like when he put fleas into Carlotta's wig and she was scratching herself for three  days. I thought that was funny.

The seasons flew by, and the Opera Populaire started to practice for the new show, Hannibal. I, as always, was just one of the ballet girls. But one night, my angel told me: "Christine, don't worry about being just a ballerina. Soon, you will be the Prima Donna, and all of Paris will kneel at your feet."

"But, Angel, I'm not ready yet." I opposed. Not that it wouldn't be great to be the Prima Donna, but there was supposed to be new management, and I knew that with the new managers I couldn't make such a huge jump.

"You are more than ready, Christine." He said, his voice calming down my worries.

"Angel, I beg you one more time, could you please show me your face?" Silence took over for a while until he answered.

"Yes, but not today." A wave of disappointment rushed through me. "Now, go. You have practice tommorow morning, and I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle of it."

He wished me good night and I left the chapel, still feeling the angel's presence within the walls of the opera house.