Hello again! it's been a long time since I worked on this story and I stupidly ended up forgetting where I was going with it. So I've done some editing and we're back on track! Let me know what you think, hope you enjoy! Happy reading xox
The old book still lies in the box, inside the third step of the hidden staircase in the Beckett manor. The book has no material value, and to the naked eye is nothing short of ugly. It is bound in worn, faded leather. The title has long since crumbled under the clumsy fingers of my younger self. But its contents remain. There in the book is a story. My story. My name is Christine Daae and this is the story of the infamous Phantom of the Opera…
The three little ones gasped in awe.
"Aunt Stephanie, what's a Phantom?" a soft voice murmured. Aunt Stephanie lowered the old book, tipped her glasses slightly further down her freckled nose, and peered at the child. Madeleine, the eldest sibling, stared curiously up at her Aunt, with her head cocked to one side and her lip between her teeth.
"Ah, young Madeleine, a Phantom is a ghost." She smiled wryly, pushed her glasses back up onto her face and opened her mouth to resume reading.
"Ghost?!" cried Gabrielle, (the middle child) her small mouth dropping open. She scrunched up her face in disgust, "how awful!" Little Josephine, the youngest, shook gently on her position on the faded rug and began to cry, wrapping pale, twig-thin arms around her trembling knees.
"No ghost, no ghost, no ghost." She mumbled, sticking a stumpy little thumb into her mouth. Gabrielle scrunched her nose further and shook her head. Madeleine, ignoring her sisters, got to her feet.
"A ghost?!" You mean…our great grandmother actually met a really real ghost?" Stephanie laughed warmly, placed the open book across her knees and leant back in her chair; her pale hands clasped in her lap.
"Hush now, Josephine" She whispered to the crying child, "you mustn't fear the Phantom. He was never really a ghost, for he was never actually dead. And besides," Aunt Stephanie leaned closer to her niece with a warm smile and softly added; "a ghost could not, and would harm a child so sweet and beautiful as you anyway." She winked as Josephine unfurled her knees and smiled; wiping her damp nose with her wrist. "As for you, Gabrielle," The aunt then turned to her stubbornly cross niece, "you must never judge a creature, whether man or ghost. There is always more than meets the eye." Gabrielle snorted; tossing golden locks over one shoulder.
"How can you possibly be a ghost if you're not dead? You are silly Aunt Stephanie…" Gabrielle took Josephine's hand and led her to the nursery door. "Come along now Josephine, we don't believe in ghosts anyway, do we? How about we read you a nice fairy story? You'd like that better wouldn't you…" Madeleine watched them go before lifting the book and scrabbling up onto her aunt's lap. The fire beside them danced a little lower and she sat there a moment before speaking.
"Aunt? I believe in ghosts, but I don't understand how you could be a ghost but not a ghost all at once. Ghosts are dead, aren't they?" She looked into the tired eyes of her aunt and waited. Stephanie paused for a moment, glancing down at her wondering niece. "Madeleine, the Phantom of the Opera was a mystery to all who knew him, not the least of which my grandmother, Christine. She met him when she was very young. You know the story don't you?" Madeleine looked thoughtful.
"Great grandmother had two lovers. She chose our great grandfather Raoul. Isn't that it aunty?" Stephanie nodded slowly.
"Yes Madeleine, that's right. But what you don't know is that Erik never stopped loving Christine. The man was a genius. Mad, but a genius. But by the end, after the torment of his life, the destruction of the theatre and the rejection of Christine, he could not help but die. Not in body, but in heart." Stephanie smiled sadly at Madeleine. "That is why he is a Phantom."
"Erik?! Erik was the Phantom of the Opera?" Madeleine whispered.
"Yes, Erik," smiled Aunt Stephanie gently.
"Erik," repeated Madeleine. "What happened to him?" She looked down at the book in her hands.
"Once Christine chose Raoul, she never saw the Phantom again." Madeleine looked thoughtfully into the fire before climbing from her aunt's lap and staring blankly into the flames.
"Aunt Stephanie will you play the music again?" She turned to face her with a curious expression on her face. Stephanie smiled, pulled a page of sheet music from within the book, and took it to a grand piano. The piano lay bathed in moonlight beneath a large window. It was old and the black varnish was beginning to peel. Stephanie placed the sheet music onto the piano and sat on the bench, stretching her elegant fingers across the keys. This was a familiar piece to them both by now and as she played, Stephanie could feel, stronger than ever before, the child's eyes dancing across her back.
