author note: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or its characters. I have simply used them to create my own story.

summary:

I'd write it down but then why would you read my story, read to find out. lol. :)

prologue: (Madame Giry pov)

Strange things.

Many very strange, unexplainable things have happened in the Opera Populaire. No one, with the exception of one, will ever really know the whole story. Fact from fiction, almost no one knows anymore. It wasn't always like this. I was here from the beginning, and never in my life would I have imagined that one decision to come with some many consequences. Sometimes I wonder how things would have been different if I hadn't brought him here that night. But then I remember that I did and I cannot change it so why dwell on the past. For you to really understand this story, there are a few things you should know: the fist is that there was a phantom, and he was very real; the second is that he was not evil, only a misunderstood soul whom the world had turned its back on; and thirdly is to never believe what you see and hear, because illusions are everywhere and often your mind sees only what it whishes to see, believe only what you know.

My name is Antoninette Giry and I was born in Paris in 1831. I had always dreamed of being a dancer, since the day my parents took me to see an opera in Rome when we went on Holliday one year. The day the it was announced that Monsieur Lefevre, a rich gentleman with a passion for the arts, would be building a new opera house on top of the ancient opera house which was now in ruins, I set my sights on being part of the ballet company there. My wish came true in 1840 when Monsieur Lefevre began to look for singers, dancers, and stage hands to work in the opera when it opened in 1841. I was one of the young girls chosen to be part of the company, and I was ecstatic. My parents, of modest means, were proud of me and happy that should something happen to them that I would have a place to go. My life was great and I became one of the first performers to grace the stage of the newly completed Opera Populaire.

As time passed I became a much more talented dancer, and flourished at the opera. Unfortunately my parents died in 1843, when I was twelve; but my busy dancing career and good friends kept my going and I was able to move on.

It was in 1845, one night after running our extremely popular new opera for three months straight, that I would make a decision in a split second, that would eventually change everything. We went to a traveling gypsy carnival that night; it was a reward for our hard work and successful performances of late. While all the other ballet girls giggled and laughed at all the wired things the gypsies did, I stood in the corner. I didn't like this place and I felt in my bones that something was about to happen. If only I had known what was coming.

The last thing we saw before we left the carnival was the devil's child. It was a ghastly sight. How anyone could find such a thing amusing is beyond me, but then again I've always been serious, even as a child of 14, so maybe I just see it differently. But the boy, if one could even call him that, had the most disfigured face I have ever seen in my life. It made one want to turn away, hide, and deny that such a thing could even exist. The people around threw things at the creature and everyone laughed as a gypsy handler beat him mercilessly; everyone except me. I'll never be able to forget the cruelty I witnessed that night… I think that is probably why I helped him then, even after I saw him kill the gypsy man with the rope they used to tie him up for the night. He looked to be about seven, and no child at that age should be treated like that for a deformity. I felt guilty and still do for how I detested him even as I helped him, but at least I was able to show him some compassion, more than anyone else before me had.

I ran through the streets with him that night. I ran not because I thought I did anything wrong, but it all happened so fast and I was scared. I brought him to the opera house that night, and hid him in the chapel. When I returned after everyone was asleep, he was no where to be found. I assumed he left and thought nothing of it. It would be years before he would make his presence known, and even more time after that before I would realize that he was the creature I helped from so long ago. But it was on that night that the legend of the Phantom of the Opera began.

Many things came to pass before anyone could tell anything was amiss. My dancing career hit its peak in those years just before the Phantom began to make himself known. I became a star and loved my life. At the age of 17, I met the man of my dreams. We married in 1848, it was a simple wedding but I was never happier in my entire life. However my happiness was short lived, six months later my husband and my house was ransacked. Why anyone would have chosen to rob our house is beyond me, we weren't dirt poor but we didn't have any more than the next person. The robbers came at night, and killed my husband. I wasn't home at the time, having been at rehearsal for our next production at the opera house, and came home to find my husband dead on the floor and the murder looting the house. He came at me with a metal pole, hitting me harshly in the knee, an injury that never healed and ended my dancing career. Luckily, as my attacker once again advanced on me I heard the police coming. Thankfully one of the neighbors had sent for them. I escaped with my life that night, but lost everything; everything except for Meg, the daughter I bore 6 months later.

After Meg was born I knew I had to find a way to support us, and took Opera Populaire's offer to become the new ballet mistress, being that I had been so talented and the previous mistress had recently retired. It was one year after this that things began to go amiss. There had always been slightly odd occurrences within the Opera house, but only things that made you wonder for a second before you forgot about it and moved on to something else. However these new occurrences were far more bizarre and grew into a legend of sorts over the next three years. It started with all the candles mysteriously blowing out each night and hearing music at odd hours of the night when no one was there. It then grew into things mysteriously disappearing, things randomly falling, and occasionally people disappearing. Then the letters began; they would not come often, but it was best that they were followed. At first everyone saw the letters as a practical joke, but when the threats were carried out and the mysterious phantom appeared to be correct, people began to take him more seriously. He would leave instructions and his instructions would be followed. He also received a salary of 20,000 franks a month. As long as his demands were met, all went well. Monsieur Lefevre refused to acknowledge that the phantom existed, but as a precaution paid him and usually followed his advice.

This is how the Opera house ran for the next few years. Its popularity grew which each passing year and the phantom's legend grew as well.

In 1851, the world renowned violinist Daee had an unexpected death. I knew him for a brief period and was slightly surprised when a week before his death he asked he to retrieve his only child Christine, and bring her to the opera with me when he died. From the moment I met Christine I treated her as my own, and brought her to the opera house to live and train with the ballet group.

This is when the legend of the Phantom of the Opera's setting was complete and ready to take off.

ending note:

what do you guys think so far? good?... bad? I know where I'm going with the story, but I was having trouble starting it. The first chapter is going to being with Christine's life, this chapter and maybe one other will be the only one with Giry's pov. Give it a chance, I promise it will get better. Comments are always welcome, please let me know what you think.

thanks,

annonymouslyinvisible111