A/N: If you are reading this story for the first time, by all means feel free to ignore. To my other faithful dear readers/reviewers, I'm sorry to inform you that I have decided to rewrite Help Me Remember, seeing how its still so early into the story and if I didn't do this it would of been not to my expectations. Please, don't be mad. The same plot is included, just the beginning is different and a major fact that has changed is that Raoul is not dead. Please don't make this a reason for you to stop reading, i have a feeling you all will like this version much better and plus I have no intentions on doing this again because I have brainstormed the entire story over the past two weeks and can't wait to share it with you all.
-Maddie

~Chapter One- Once Upon a December~

Silent tears are frozen by winter's bitter cold

A lonesome girl wanders afraid, with a past foretold

Courage is in her grasp, but is overshadowed by fear

A lullaby gives her strength to hope that her father is near

The howling wind roared as a girl wandered alone through winter's bitter night, unaware of where she was heading nor how she came to be deserted on a landmass of snow with no one in sight. Her feet were numb from traveling in the wet, freezing, white snow and the girl's entire body shivered violently as the cold wind blew across her face. However, she had no intention of giving up anytime soon. There was one reason that the helpless girl continued to wander alone: she needed to get to her father.

Every memory inside the woman's mind seemed to float around; moving too fast for her to keep grasp onto. Her only solid memory that she could hold onto was her sick father needing her assistance; needing to see her smiling face and hear her sing beautiful melodies to him as he fought a horrific case of pneumonia. She wouldn't give up, she knew her father needed her more than anything. One step at a time, she fought the harsh winds and freezing cold as she journeyed, looking for the slightest hint of where she might be heading.

She had awoken two hours earlier, lying in the snow with no one around her and her head pounding tremendously. The clothes she was wearing were torn in some places and her cascading curly brown hair was undone from the once secure hairpins that kept it secure. She attempted calling for help once she first woke up, but when no one seemed to hear her, she began to wander alone, taking paths she did not recognize that lead her to god knows where.

The girl did not remember much of anything at all. She remembered her name, of course, her violinist father, and living in Sweden as a young girl. Everything else seemed to be wiped away from her brain; she had not the slightest idea of what the date was today or where on earth she was. The girl gave up on trying to remember the past events that lead up to this moment, knowing that if she didn't the rambling questions inside her mind would never be put to an end, and put all her focus on finding her father.

As she walked throughout the cold two feet high snow, a soft tune played inside her head. A lullaby, it sounded like, which she was not sure who the composer was to, but it was no doubt, a contributing factor to keeping her alive and walking. Softly she hummed it, giving her more strength to travel throughout the cold, trying to imagine what the words were to the unearthly lullaby.

She was not quite sure how far she had traveled since she woke up, but she definitely believed it had to be far. The view ahead of her was no longer a never ending field of white snow, but instead the outskirts of what looked like a city. Not too far ahead, she could see a faint outline of a tall sky scraping tower, one that signaled her where she was.

Paris, France.

The city of love, she remembered, was somewhere her father always wanted to perform at as a musician. She wondered if her father could possibly be here, fully restored with health and waiting frantically for her to arrive back to him. The thought of her father and the city of Paris helped recover the memory of her father telling her once about the grand Opera House, located in Paris, that he dreamt of one day performing in. Along with that, she could vaguely remember her father telling her that before her mother had passed away, she also dreamt of having the pleasure to perform at the Opera Populair, but not as a dancer; as a singer.

In the big city of Paris, she knew that would have to the first place to look. Why else would she be in Paris in the first place? Surely she could not of traveled somewhere without her farther, and there was no doubt that her father would come to such a beautiful city without the opportunity to play at the Opera. She decided she would go with her instinct, and took a path through the city, letting her feet and ambition guide her to the Opera House that she had not the slightest clue where it was located not what it appeared to look like.

The city was vacant, making her only resource for light the gleams produced from the full moon above. The girl imagined families all around her were bundled up in a blanket together, drinking warm tea or coffee, while enjoying the heat from their fireplace and listening to their father play the a soft tune from a fiddle. Her heart ached, everyone here in this city belonged somewhere, but she was alone...alone and scared.

Fear was something that everyone seems to fail to inform you about when you are young, thought the girl. They tell you to set your goals high and to not be afraid to dream, but no one ever seems to mention the terrifying sensation of angst. It's one of the many things the girl would have to experience on her own. Never had she ever felt so scared in her life, her father was like her guardian; without him everything seemed meaningless. She shuddered away the thought of what would happen if she never found him.

A stray dog barked in an alley to the left of the girl, making her jump and pace a little faster than normal to stay away from the creature, not wanting to cause trouble. She looked up into the night sky, to see flakes of snow begin to descend down from the grayish clouds once again, making her shiver at the thought of the temperature getting colder than it already was. A scarf she bore was the only other thing besides her lightweight cloak that gave her warmth. Her long brown curly hair, which was now covered with snow and frost at the top, helped as well.

Straight ahead, she saw a building, which no doubt was the Opera Popualir. Even though she never remembered seeing it before, she knew that this was it, it's elegant architecture and mysteriousness to it had "opera" written all over it. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of it and the first smile since she was awake encroached across her face at the thought that her father was inside.

Forgetting that she had no clue of how she came to be deserted on the outskirts of Paris or why her memories seemed to be gone with the wind, she raced her way up the white marble exterior steps. She ignored the pain of the cold wind against her face, and only set her mind on being with her father once again. Rushing past the exquisite arches, she ran straight for the main entrance, putting her hand on the gold knob. There was only one problem though, one thing that drained all her hope.

It was locked.

"H- Hello?" She said, with her breath clearly visible; not knowing if anyone heard her or not as she continuously banged the door knocker.

After what she felt like was an eternity of knocking, the girl sighed, thinking she was at defeat. She had gotten this far, thought the girl, she wouldn't let a silly lock prevent her from entering. As she paced back and forth, the brown eyed girl attempted to devise a plan. Once an idea struck her, the light pitter-patter of her steps was the only sound in Paris as she journeyed around to the back of the Opera House. Someone was bound to leave a door unlocked there, she thought.

There was what seemed to be thousands of smaller doors all around the back, making the hope inside her grow smaller and smaller. She checked just about every single one, all of which were locked and secure from any intruders. One door remained though, knowing it was her last option, the girl closed her eyes and gingerly placed her porcelain hand upon the knob. Slowly, she began to twist the doorknob until she heard a small click.

It was unlocked.

Her heart was restored with hope, as she entered the astonishing Opera House. The door she opened led her into what she thought was an office, due to the all the shelves that contained books and a mahogany desk that was cluttered with papers and folders. She exited it right away, and made her way to the entrance room.

Her breathing almost came to a stop as she took in the marvelous Opera House, she tried to suck in every detail as she slowly walked on the shining tile floor, which was so clean you could easily see you reflection. She looked up at the roof, admiring the decoration, and was amazed to see staircases attiring red velvet carpets, come from every each direction, making the Opera House seem more as a palace than a theater. Oh, how the girl would die to spend the rest of her life in the Opera Populair.

Something triggered her mind about the looks of the building; it was like she had dreamt of it before at night. The atmosphere was so familiar and the smell of roses and candle wax called to her mind. These strange little things all made her mind twirl, she had to of been here before, she was certain of it.

"This place," she whispered trance like, mesmerized by the Opera House, "it's like a forgotten dream."

She walked out onto the empty entrance floor that was big enough to be a grand ballroom itself. In her mind, she imagined masked men and women, waltzing as they masqueraded themselves throughout the room. She got so caught up in her imagination, for a minute or so she fantasized dancing and singing along to the lullaby in her head with lyrics that seemed to come out of her mouth without any thought.

"Dancing figures
Engagement rings
Things I almost remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December"

She sang, forgetting that she was on a mission to look for her father, and not having a care in the world.

"Someone holds me safe and warm
A voice teaches me to perform
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory"

Figures all around her, dressed in light shades of gold, black, and sliver, waltzed with masks covering their faces. They all were figments of her imagination, but seemed so real to her. She could not help but dance along with them, imagining herself wearing a light purple glimmering dress. She danced along with an imaginary man that was beyond handsome. His disarming smile and rich laughter seemed to make her think about her child hood, but she didn't know why.

"Far away
Long ago
Glowing dim as an ember
Things my heart used to know
Once upon a December"

While the other dancers remained, the man she danced with, that triggered her mind about her childhood, disappeared; disintegrating in the air while taking her happiness with her. She felt in an imaginary tap on her shoulder shortly after and turned around, causing her purple ball gown to sway, to find a masked man, covering only half of his face asking for a dance. She agreed, and felt a smile encroach her face once again when the half masked man bowed to her and placed his gloved hand on her hip and twirled her to the tune of the lullaby she had been hearing in her head.

Just as the other man did, the half masked man disintegrated as well, making her sway alone. It wasn't long until than both of the men reappeared, both asking for a dance. Who to choose, she thought worriedly, completely forgetting the dancing figures were only a part of her imagination.

"Someone keeps me away from a man deformed
Did he love me? Was I informed?
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory"

Not knowing why he appealed to her more, she chose the half masked man and continued dancing. She laughed out loud, feeling happier than she ever remembered. Who ever knew that make believe was such a exhilarating past time.

"Far away long ago
Glowing dim as an ember
Things my heart used to know
Things it yearns to remember
And a song someone sings"

The masked man stopped dancing as she felt the lullaby coming to an end. She could feel her memory slipping away again, but she tried with all her might to hold onto it. Everyone around the girl and the imaginary half masked man disappeared, leaving the real girl and imaginary man face to face, looking within one another eyes. She found herself being sucked more into her imagination and leaning in to what she hoped to be a kiss. Hesitantly, the man began to lean in as well, making her heart nearly stop, but once their lips were inches away from touching, she could begin to feel her memory slipping. Everything that she had just imagined felt more like a dream than real thoughts inside her mind.

The masked man disappeared as her memory did too, leaving her alone in the Opera House again, forcing her mind to return to reality.

"Once upon a December."

"Christine." A chill was sent down her spine and the joyful warm atmosphere returned to cold and ghostly, as male voice whispered her name, not as a question, but as a statement.

Her first thought was that the person whose voice spoke her name was her father, but the voices did not match up. She looked all about her, wondering how on earth a man knew her name that she did not recognize, but was upset when she found no one around her. Was she imagining it?

She then heard a pitter-patter of footsteps descending down one of the staircase. Her heart raced, and she frantically looked all around trying to find the source of the footsteps, but could see no one in the dim candle light. She tried to hide, not wanting to get kicked out of the only environment where she could search for her father.

But she knew it was too late once the steps were silenced as a woman that Christine did not recognize, laid his eyes upon her face.

"Christine?" The woman's voice questioned more to herself out of shock than to her.

Christine simply nodded at the woman, which she could not recollect, but knew they must of have met before since she knew her first name. If this woman knew who Christine was, than the probability of her knowing where her father's whereabouts were was high. Maybe, Christine thought, she had been to Paris before. Maybe, this wasn't the first time she had entered the Opera Populair. And most certainly, maybe the two men in her fantasy that she danced with were more than figments of her imagination.