Disclaimer: Unfourtunatly I do not own this amazing story:( I am currently writing a strongly worded letter to everyone involved with the books and the musical, but so far no luck.
Six months had passed. Six months since my home had burnt down. My beautiful opera house. More importantly, it had been six months since I had seen the face of my angel. Receding into the darkness with HIM. The thief. No sooner had I shown my Christine the place where her angel lives, than did HE arrive and steal my treasure. I shook my head, breaking my reverie. I needed to return to the task at hand. I was searching the streets for the one. The one who would break Christine's hold on me. I had been searching for months. So far only one girl had caught my eye, a girl whom, I would never have looked at before, she was a ballerina from the Opera, a backup for Christine. She was slight in build and had long hair the color of spun gold. Her skin was light and she had eyes the exact color of the ocean at night. I recalled her name to be Isabella. I had seen her many times from my vantage point on the roof of the opera building. Lately I had begun to lose hope, I hid inside knowing that no one could love me, Not like I had loved Christine.
One day, as I was skulking in the rafters of the opera, I heard a quite shuffling below. As I turned to investigate, I saw a flash of gold rushing to the stage. Curious, I crept closer. WHO HAS DARED TO DISTURB ME IN MY TOMB! I angrily thought. The small figure on the stage began to dance. It was unique and complex. I couldn't help it but I found myself quietly creeping closer and closer. Finally, I was directly behind her. As I helped her through a Pirouette I saw her face. It was Mademoiselle Isabella! At my touch, she froze in place. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes. I quickly backed away from her. "Hello, my name is Erik," I said shyly, "Who are you?" I asked even though I already knew.
"I'm Isabella." She whispered in her lovely Soprano gasped as if she thought she said too much. We stood there awkwardly staring at each other, taking in one another's features, I noted her rosy cheeks and her full lips, when suddenly there was a creak from deep within the theatre. As if awaking from a trance she gasped and turned to flee. She ran from my own personal Hell. "Wait!" I cried. I knew she couldn't hear me, but I didn't care."Come back!" I whispered.