Christine's pov
Ever since I was little I belived in god, in angels. I was taught that god's angels watched over us all and that he had a plan for us. A plan that was for our happiness that would bring us all back to him. From an early age I knew that he was suppoesed to love us. He gave us families so that we wouldn't be alone, we weren't supposed to be alone were we? This is what I learned at an early age, this is what I believed for so long. Then papa got ill, he told me that he was going to go to heaven and be with mama. But I didn't want him to go, I was only seven I still needed a papa. I didn't want to be alone in the world, and I certianly didn't want to end up in an orphanage. He couldn't go, it wasn't fair! So every night this week I have prayed to god that he might spare my papa. I make good promises too! I told him that I will be a good little girl, I won't lie, I won't ever steal, I won't even stay a dirty word, as long as he lets me keep my papa. Now here I sit by his bed like he used to do for me when ever I felt ill. He's been in this bed for so long I worry he won't ever get out of it. I don't care if I have to take care of him for the rest of my life, just let him stay.
"Christine, Min kärlek, you are so beautiful just like your mother." he cooed as he brushed back my chocolate curls, "you never have to fear."
"But papa what about you? I don't want you to leave me yet." I whimpered letting tears fall as I buried my head into his chest.
"Hush child, do not fret it will all be alright."
"How?" I whispered, "I have no one else in the world."
"I will never leave you."
Sniffling I looked back into his mirror green eyes, "Promise?"
Wrapping his large pinkie around my tiny one he nodded his head, which threw him into another coughing fit. When it ened he whisper to me with ragged labored breaths.
"When I am in heaven child I will send you the angel of music to watch over you. Now it is time for you to rest."
With that hopped down and kissed his rough, whiskered cheek. Unknown to me that was the last time I would ever hear my father's voice again.
It has been eleven years since that night, and here I stand shivering in the cold of my room. I have been finished packin my meager earthly possesions in my bag, but I don't want to leave this orphanage. Instead I turn my attention to the small bag that Mme Giry had given me. That woman was so kind to take in a total stranger, he was like the mother I had never had. The thought put a warm smile upon my face as I picked her bag up and put it on my shoulder. It only contained a picture of my father, two dresses, a pair of under garments and twenty francs, but it felt as if in contaned the weight of the world.
With a final forlorn galnce at the place that house more than half of my childhood I started for the door. I left, passed the hall where the other children played innocently in their room, passed the place where all of us had hung our pictures, down the staircase full of dents from the areas where we had races or brought toys up the stairs. The fond memories tore through my heart with every step that furthered me away. Meg greeted me at the door her ever present smile on her lips and a small box in hand.
"Do you really have to go Christine? We could always keep you one more year?" She begged, she had started this months ago and I had always givin' in putting off leaving.
"Yes," I replied swallowin gthe lump in my throat "It is time that I go see this world."
With a breathy sigh she grabbed my hand. "Well at least take this with you, don't need you catching a chill."
Upon openig the box I found a red scarf identical to the one that my father had givin' to me when I was a little girl. Tears that had been well held back now threaten to spill over.
"Thank you I whisper." and with on efinal hug I walk out in to the great, cold world on a winter night.
After only a few hours of walking I arrvied in Paris. The hustle and bustle of a large heavely populated city caused a longing for home. No, I scolded myself, this is home now. After an hour of blindly walking up and down streets looking for the inn I finally found it. Mme Giry was friend with the owner so I was able to stay there for a week until I found employment. The stairs felt like miles after walking all day, so in making it to the top I let out a sigh of acomplishment, only to find out that my room was at the other end of the hall. Groaning I made it all the way to my room, stopping to fumble with the keys to open my door. The room was slightly larger than the one I had at the Girys. A small vanity took up one wall while a bed lie ajacen to it. A little dresser sat at the end of the room near a set of double doors leading to a blacony.
Carefully placing the bag on the bed I pulled ou the frading picture of my father. A single tear escaped trickling down my face. Gently I hugged it to my chest and weeped. I cried for the loss, I cried for my life, I cried for the life that I could have been. My body was pulled towards the balcony and I stepped into the cool night. Looking up at the ceslestial bodys I started to wonder aloud.
"God, why haven't you sent the angel of music? Father promised and I have kept the promise I made as a little girl. I have always believed. I believed that you loved your children, that you wanted what's best for us, am I not good enough? Tell me what I did wrong? How can I do better? Don't you stil love me?"
I stood tere in the dark waiting for my answer. I waited, and waited, in fact I have waited for eleven damn years. But that night, he didn't answer. Just like the night before, and every other night for the last eleven years. I was still alone. Turning my back Iwnet inside and curld up in my bed. There was no god that could do this, he didn't love me, he never has. I am alone in this world and I will forever be. There is no angel of music coming to save me. Papa was wrong, he lied. And there was nothing the I could do to change that. 'When I am in heaven child I will send you the angel of music to watch over you'
"You promised, papa, you promised." And with tears in my eyes I fell asleep, dreaming of my angel that would never come.
