A/N: To my readers! I truly hope you enjoy this story. The idea popped into my head during my History class! Please read with care and please, please review! It helps me work harder on my stories. I needed a break from A Second Chance and here it is! I hope you enjoy, Perfection Isn't Always Perfect.
Disclaimer: I do not take ownership of any of the listed characters: Erik, Christine…All others are of my own creation and are based from my imagination. I do not own, The Phantom of the Opera, yet Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux do…so to them I give credit.
Perfection Isn't Always Perfect
Clara A. Nairn
Chapter One: The Attic
The young boys head lifted from a book with the sound of a slammed door.
"Mother." He whispered to himself, just the smallest hint of pain and fear laced through the word.
The young boy shut the book he was reading and stuffed it under his mattress as he heard footsteps up the wooden stairs. The boy sighed quietly as the footsteps passed the white, cracked door to his room and continued. He heard them go up another staircase before he heard a door open, and shut. He slid off of his bed and crept towards the door. He was careful to only let it open a little and not let it creak.
He poked his head out and turned to look the way he heard the footsteps. He heard shuffling in the room up the staircase at the end of the hall. The attic. The door began to open to the attic and the young boy quickly shut his door and ran to his bed. He sat down and reached up to his face in alarm. Touching bare skin he quickly pulled his hand away. "My mask!" He whispered frantically as the footsteps came closer and closer. He searched frantically for the comforting, yet painful, piece of cloth. He finally found it down on the floor next to his bed. He quickly placed it on his face as the door opened.
"Erik." A woman, who was the boy's mother, spoke as she opened the door, "No don't." She added, as Erik had begun to turn his face to look at her. He stopped immediately and looked away. "I came to tell you…order…you to never go into the attic." Of course this was a stupid thing to say to a child; especially a very curious one.
Once the words had fallen from the mother's mouth Erik immediately began to make plans on how to get into the attic without his mother noticing. His thoughts rambled so far from his mind that he only realized his mother was still in the same room as him when he felt a sharp rap on the back of his head.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Yes." Erik said rubbing the back of his head with his hand. Turning just slightly enough that he could catch a glimpse of his mother's face.
Madeline crossed her arms and sighed.
"Well, if you weren't listening I told you that I am going to be leaving now to go out. I won't be back until late. Find something to eat or something." Madeline turned to leave and Erik watched her as she walked down the stairs and out of sight. Once he heard the door open and shut he ran into the hall to gaze out a window, as his bedroom had none. He watched his mother walk down the street to finally disappear from Erik's sight. He smiled slightly and turned to face the seven steps and door to the attic.
The young boy stared at the door for a few moments. He then glanced once more out the window before turning back to the wooden door. Erik walked slowly towards the door. He gained a little confidence as he neared the steps. Being a young boy, his imagination was wild and thoughts of what was behind the door kept running through his head.
He placed his right foot on the first step, taking a deep breath before continuing his ascent. He counted the steps softly to himself in French, practicing the numbers he had been teaching himself.
"Un, deux, trios, quatre, cinq, six, sept."
He had been watching his feet and was surprised to look up and see the door directly in front of him. His small hand reached up slowly towards the bronze knob. He had to move onto his tippy-toes to grasp the doorknob enough to turn it. The door wasn't locked and creaked slightly as he opened it peering around the door to gaze into the attic.