A/N: None of these characters belong to me. They are property of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Susan Kay. However this fanfic is mostly based on ALW's musical. Please R/R as this is my first posting.
Darkness. The peacefulness before the day began. The stillness of the night still lingered in the air. Yet in the dark, the quiet, someone stirred – a young boy. He had been awake for many hours. He did not sleep much anymore. All he ever had nowadays were nightmares.
It would be several more minutes before light would creep over the horizon. This was the time he loved best – the calm before the storm. As long as the sun remained hidden, he was free. But as soon as light touched the sky, his every whim was controlled by the man who had enslaved him.
He sat very still in his metal cage – his prison. In his hands, he held his only companion – a crudely made monkey doll. Eventually, it'll be complete, he thought to himself. Persian robes, cymbals, and all. He forced a smile – he had once seen a monkey dressed like that on his travels through eastern Europe and became determined to replicate one to keep with him.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a glimmer of sunlight peering through the cracks of neighboring tents. It was then that the boy became aware of his owner and his intense snoring. He glared at the man - who laid contentedly on his cot in another part of the tent – the very man who kept him locked in chains. And for what? To be made a public spectacle!
As the sunlight spread across the camp, its rays touched the tip of the boy's violin. Aside from his monkey, it provided the only joy in his life. The boy slowly reached over and picked it up with shaking fingers. He swallowed hard and then steadied his hands, fingers, and mind as he raised the violin to his uncovered chin. He started out simply, slowly, and softly. The notes rolled off his bow, onto the strings, then the sweet melody floated up into his ears. He closed his eyes, letting the music fill him – body and soul. He was so captivated with his music that he never noticed his owner rise and enter the cage.
With a quick swoop, his master snatched up the violin, stopping the boy in mid-song. The boy instantly jumped up and whirled around to face his master, unaware that his face was still uncovered.
"Give it back!" The boy shouted.
His master only laughed at him as he held up the violin. "What? This thing? Why?"
"It's mine!"
"Oh, so you think that because you found this in some trash heap, that it's yours?"
"Yes," the boy replied, his anger rising.
"Well, let me tell you something – that ain't the way the world works. And I'll be taking this… again," he said, moving towards the cage door. He stopped and turned back around. "Let me remind you that people do not pay to listen to you play pretty songs on this… this thing!"
"It's a violin," the boy replied, coldly.
His owner ignored him, "Do you know why people pay me? Do you know why they pay to come here?" The boy looked away, disgusted. "No?" He pointed to a burlap bag that lay at the boy's feet. "They pay to see what's under that bag you wear. The face that you are flaunting now – that is the real moneymaker. So then, you won't be needing this," he said, swinging the violin by the strings.
"Give it back!" the boy demanded again.
"Don't you raise your voice to me!"
The boy seemed not to hear him, "It's mine! Give it back to me!"
"If you don't shut your mouth, you'll soon wish you had!"
The boy took a deep breath. "If you don't give it back to me," he paused, then lowered his voice a little. "You'll wish you were dead."
His master pressed his lips together tightly and he looked as if he could explode at any moment. "Don't you threaten me!" His hand flew at the boy and smacked his upside the head. In a flash, he had dropped the violin to the ground and grabbed his whip. "I'll teach you to threaten me!"
He began swinging the whip wildly – hitting the boy wherever the whip fell. Harder and faster he whipped the boy until his slave was nothing more than a crumpled mass on the cage floor. The man began to breathe deeply, trying to regain his composure.
A soft voice was heard from the collapsed figure, "You always say you'll beat me to death, yet here I am – still waiting."
The man laughed. "I already told you! There's no point in killing the host of my moneymaker," he said, motioning to the boy's uncovered face. "No, I think that instead of killing you, I'll make you wish you were dead!" He dropped the whip on the ground, then grabbed the violin with his large and powerful hands as the boy slowly raised his head. As quick as lightning, the man snapped the wooden instrument in two. The boy's eyes widened as his owner carelessly tossed the pieces to the floor. The man then picked up his whip and exited the cage, locked the door behind him. The boy stared at the violin for a long time and waited for his master to leave the tent before he crept over to it. He then gently picked up the broken piece and cradled them gently in his arms. His passion, his life, his only reason for living, was forever gone.