A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first attempt at actually posting any of my work, so I hope it goes well! Here's the disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the original stories about "Phantom of the Opera"- but I do own the central character in this chapter, whose name shall be revealed at a later time... please read!! Virtual cookies to all who write reviews... :-D
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Chapter One
I don't know what I ever did to make her disown me. Yes, I admit I wasn't the easiest daughter in the world to deal with, but that didn't mean that she had to throw me into the street like a dog. Things had been all right, for the most part, until we heard that her dear son- my brother, Jacques- had been killed in a carriage accident. From that moment on, things were different.
She drank. Worse, she drank incessantly. She never seemed to stop. Then the beatings began. If I ever did the slightest thing to displease her, she went wild and began to strike out at me. I learned to simply absorb the pain- it seemed like the only way to get the beatings over and done with. Then came that terrible night- the night she threw me out. She had been asked to marry someone- a fine, rich man, too. How she convinced him that she was a decent woman, I shall never know. As soon as she began to think about all of the fineries she would have, she seemed lost in her own world. If only I hadn't opened my mouth. Things could have been different.
"Maman, will I be able to get a new dress? This one is so worn, and-"
"Silence!" she cried, and slapped me across the face. I fell to the floor, slightly dazed. "How dare you, wretch! I've given you several very nice dresses, and you say they aren't good enough! It's not my fault you can't take care of your clothing!" I didn't dare to mention that she had never taught me to sew, nor that the dresses were already falling apart when she gave them to me.
I rose slowly. "Maman, please. I only ask-"
"No!" she yelled, and stepped toward me. I took a step backwards, then another, and another, as she continued to advance. I felt myself back against the front doorway of our small home. Mother continued her rant as she moved closer, then she suddenly reached out to me. I gasped, waiting for the blow, but it never fell. Instead, I felt the door swing open- she had reached beside me and turned the handle! With a slight grin, she pushed me backwards. I fell into the mud with a short scream. Rain pelted my face as I looked up at my mother.
"If this life isn't good enough for you, then go find one that is!" she yelled. "Go! Get out of here! And don't ever come back!" With those terrible words, she shut the door.
I lay there, scared and confused, wondering what I was to do. The rain mixed with the tears on my cheeks, and I didn't move for a very long time. Then I rose, and began to slowly walk toward the road.
I never looked back.
For a long while, I simply wandered. I didn't care where I was going, I didn't care how I would get there, and I didn't care if I got killed trying to make up my mind about how to get some food. I just walked. After a while, I began to run. It kept me warmer, and I would get somewhere faster. For hours, I continued on, until I was too physically and emotionally exhausted to continue. I found an abandoned shack along the side of the road, and there I lay. I listened to the rain on the roof until blessed sleep finally overtook me.