My feet pounded the soft earth as rain spit upon me, as so many others had. I could hear his yelling, it barreled around my ears; falling into my skull and murdering my brain.

But, I had to keep running.

I sucked in rain and air, hacking as the liquid traveled down my windpipe. The cuts on my arms opened once more, only to throw evidence of my being there to the ground. The rain stung the raw flesh of my arms and legs as I ran my fastest; my trousers were reduced to almost nothing and the oversized shirt I wore was ripped all the way up the back; it didn't protect me from the rain which fell upon me like beestings.

My hair flew around my body as the wind picked up speed; my bangs flopped before my eyes and I had no time to push them out of the way; I could hear the dogs pants, their razor claws digging into the dirt in a bloodthirsty chase to find me; their reward? My carcass.

The temperature had drastically fell from the day before; I puffed out smoke, as a dragon would, as I saw lights in the distance.

Light!

Oh, heavenly light!

There were buildings, huge buildings!

A-And cobblestone streets!

The moon was veiled by the vengeful clouds, but, I could see that it was a city! I smiled and pushed myself harder; barely feeling the mud squish between my toes.

I ran and ran until I saw a great structure all decked out in light.

the Eiffel Tower!

I was in Paris!

The howl of the two wolf hounds beat me from my joy, I glanced around frantically to see a great building with golden statues of angels looking over it; there was a great dome a top it and the inside was alight. I would never fit in there, I couldn't go inside, they would give me back to him if I did! I shook my head and ran to the right; only to glance over and see a grate, but, this wasn't any grate. It was attached to the building and you could lift it up! I smiled and with shaking fingers opened it, quietly shutting it afterwards; not that I needed to, for thunder had begun it's terror in the night, and lightening, thunder's friend, soon followed.

I threw my hand over my mouth and peeked out of the grating to see him holding the two wolf hound's leashes; the dogs sniffed the cobblestone haplessly and whined up to him, he cursed and screamed my name in anger; retreating back into the woods. I gave a sigh and sat, closing my eyes and smiling; giving a few sobs of happiness, I finally beat him...finally. I wiped my eyes and looked about me, I seemed to be in some sort of a one roomed church; it was a small, brick room with stained glass windows on every wall; on the far wall sat shelves which housed dozens of burnt candles, few of these were still aflame. There was a picture sitting behind one of the candle's whose fire burnt orange; it was a beautiful woman, her hair was dark brown and her eyes were the colour of chocolate. On her face was a slight smile, but her eyes were cold; nonetheless, her features were soft and Parisian, she reminded me of my sister; I sighed and turned away, I couldn't remember her, not now, not ever.

The room was cold and only the small candles sufficed for light; shivering I used the orange flame to light a candle beside the one of the beautiful woman. I smiled afterwards and shook out the stick, placing it in the appointed bed of rice. I stepped back and this is when I heard a slight clearing of someone's throat; it wasn't loud, but I heard it. I gasped and whipped around to find a small girl with caramel hair and hazel eyes peeking into the room! I backed away quickly as she yelled for me to stay, knocking over one of the shelves of candles.

I scurried to my feet and ran to the grate, but the grate wouldn't unlatch!

"Please!" The little girl cried, pausing my actions; I breathed slowly and stared at my nails, they were so long and so packed with dirt, my entire body was covered in the stuff! The rain was the first proper bathing I'd had in weeks! "I-I'm not going to hurt you" she whispered, her voice was so soft, like the coo of a dove. "I can help you...listen, my name is Elena de Chagny...I'm a ballet dancer...well..one in training.

Pray, what is your name?" Asked she, I slowly turned and faced her; she was pretty too. She wore a white tutu outfit with white pointe shoes; her hair was curled and her eyes were concerned.

"A-Anastasia I-Isadore" said I, fighting my shivering; the girl smiled and nodded happily.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Anastasia; come with me and we can clean you up" said she, extending her hand to me; why was she being so kind to me? No one had ever been this kind to me! "Come now, it's quite cold down here and we don't want you to catch cold, now do we?" Asked she, a smile planting itself upon her red lips. I stared at her in wonder for a moment and hesitantly took up her hand; her smile seemed to brighten and she took me up a stone staircase.

"Have you eaten yet?" Asked she, turning halfway to me; I paused as I pondered the question, when was the last time I had eaten? She tugged my arm and got me walking again. "Never mind, I'll get you some food anyways; it's a damnable night and everyone is a bit famished" she said leading me out of the staircase; just before she pulled me out of the cover of darkness I gasped and jumped back, yanking my hand from hers and flattening myself against the wall.

There were other people here! What if they saw me? Would they give me over to him? The little girl turned, her eyes filled to the brim with concern and curiosity. "What's the matter?

I'm taking you to my dressing room...and then I'll get you some food. But, you have to come out" said she, I sighed quietly and glanced pitifully up to her. Realization at once passed over her face. "The people" she said softly "you're worried about the people" she added, I nodded quickly and she smiled. "Don't worry about them, they're too drunk to remember anything, come, we must hurry, Madame Giry needs me back in twenty moments time" said she, grasping my hand and pulling me out of my safe zone.

I hurried beside her as my bare feet flopped on the cold stone; she opened a light, wooden door and allowed me inside. The room was painted powder blue and there sat brown furniture in the main area; along with a little desk, a full length mirror, and a flowered dressing screen. A red curtain separated this room from a small, pink bedroom; complete with a pink bed and wardrobe. Into the room with the bed she led me where she opened her wardrobe to reveal several beautiful dresses.

She smiled. "You're welcome to any and all of them, if you fancy it" said she, I nodded to her and inspected a few dresses; none of them struck me. I wasn't picky, I just preferred trousers and a shirt. I smiled to her.

"D-Do you have any trousers...a-and a cotton shirt...possibly?" I asked quietly; she grinned and dug in her wardrobe for a moment; giving an exclamation of discovery and returning to me bearing black trousers and a white, cotton shirt. I thanked her and was about to drop my oversized, ripped shirt when she stopped me.

"No, no, to the bath with you!" Said she, leading me to a small WC with a large, white, porcelain tub sitting in the midst of it. She filled this with steaming hot water. "Here is soap and a towel" said she, giving to me a yellow, rectangular bar of soap and a brown, scratchy towel. I thanked her and she smiled "whilst you're washing I'll go get you some food, okay?" Asked she, I nodded and she nodded as well, shutting the door on her way out.

As I sat in the steaming hot water I thought, 'what in the hell just happened?'

** Elena returned as I laid upon the furniture; it was so lush and so comfortable, I feel asleep! Her giggle woke me. "I've brought food" said she in a soft voice, I nodded and rubbed my eyes; sitting up, she grasped my arm and led me to a small table where a platter of juicy, plump chicken sat along with creamy potato mash and noodles slathered in cheese. I hadn't ever seen such an array of colours sitting upon my plate before! I thanked her quietly and she sat before me, smiling to me as I inhaled the food before me.

I stuffed my face as full as I could get it, gulping down the large bundle and starting upon another. Elena stopped me, however. "So, how old are you?" Asked she, I gulped down a torn off piece of chicken.

"Fourteen" I answered, she nodded.

"I'm fifteen" she replied, I nodded with a potato mash inflated mouth. "Do you know where you are?"

"Paris" I answered after a lengthy silence. Elena nodded again.

"Yes, you're in Paris, France; but, do you know what building you're in?" Asked she, I shook my head. "You, Anastasia, are in the Opera Populaire" she said with pride; I didn't understand why she used such a proud tone, what was an Opera Populaire? What did it do to make it so great as to brag about it to a stranger? I blew the questions away and nodded happily; acting as if I knew what she spoke of.

All of a sudden there came a loud, harsh knocking at the door and a woman yelled for Elena; Elena gasped and pushed me into her bed area and into her wardrobe. "Hide here, only for a bit, okay? I'll be back" she said in a hushed tone, the door was opened and there came a loud yell for her; she closed the wardrobe on me and I was amerced in darkness; the only light being that of the light that flowed through the tiny cracks between the doors. There was a confrontation between she and the loud woman and the door shut loudly; there was silence, I was alone.

** I sat in the wardrobe for god knows how long; it was when I could no longer feel my legs that I hesitantly opened the door and crept out; glancing around the rooms to be sure I was, indeed, alone.

And, I was.

I slowly walked up to the door and opened it a crack, the lights were off and there was not a voice to be heard. I opened the door a bit more and slithered out; standing on my toes and walking about. It wasn't long before I came to a large window where the moon was peeking through the clouds; I sat in the light of the moon and watched as the rain receded and the thunder was reduced to mere growls.

I glanced down to my arms and ran my fingers over the cuts; some still raw and I clenched my eyes in pain as my index finger gently touched it. These cuts were all over my body, I turned back to the large, milky moon and sighed; it was so beautifully unblemished by the hands of man. No one had ever set a harmful finger upon her; I doubt she thought of how lucky she was.

Though, she did look down upon the earth in the evenings, so she had witnessed man's cruelty.

Perhaps, not first hand, but she knows how deeply the wound runs.

It is witnessing a crime, if you ever have; you feel the struggle of the victim as the dirt they lay upon bunches beneath their fingernails as they claw the earth in despondent attempts for freedom. You cringe as their screams become so deafening it splits the night into two, unequal halves. You fall to your knees and clutch the air hopelessly, undertaking the endeavor to catch your invisible faith which, every second is fleeting from you. You wish to turn away, you wish to cover your ears and tell yourself it's all a nightmare, that it will be over soon; you're correct about one thing, it will be over soon, but, at what price? Who's life has been destroyed by another?

Yet, in some cases, out of crime, there comes life; I, cheerlessly, am speaking, living proof of a crime.