HI!
Ok, so I was drying the dishes, while thinking of a plot and characters for this story, and I had a writing brainwave.
YAAY!
HEAR IZ MAH STORIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Erik quietly walked through the catacombs looking for the way out of the opera house (a trapdoor). He had buried the skeleton of a man he had killed many years ago near his house on the lake. He had placed a different version of his ring on the skeleton's finger.
He felt like such a coward. He the Phantom, the Opera Ghost, running away from death! The very same man that the 'corps de ballet' would cower and shudder at, even if they only spoke his name!
He also felt sad.
His angel.
His dear, dear Christine.
The music was gone.
When he found the trapdoor, he stepped outside onto the quiet night streets of Paris. While walking down the pavement, his footsteps not making a sound, he took a drawing out of his bag. It was a sketch of Christine Da'ae he had done when he first saw her. Oh, how beautiful and talented she was! Erik loved her so much!
Placing his sketch carefully in his black leather bag, Erik walked on.
As time went on, Erik began to ponder where he was going to go.
He would go to his birthplace- a small town on the outside of Rouen, France.
It was not long before Erik found an abandoned horse and carriage. The horse was a deep rich brown and its coat was shiny and well kept. "Most unlike the horses in the opera", he thought. Suddenly tears sprang to his eyes.
He was going to miss the Opera House.
Review or Christine will endlessly plague you with annoying stories of her childhood!
*Christine glares at me*