Hello people! welcome to my story. before i begin, i would just like to make it know that this is a Erik/Christine fic even though the first chapter or so doesnt make it seem that way.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything form the Phantom of the Opera. But if Erik sang like Howard McGillin and looked like Gerald Butler... you get the idea. Erin is my original character.
Ok, Here we go:
Chapter 1
Erin wandered through the dark cobble stoned street. A young girl of only 14, she was returning from her apprentice job as an herbalist. Or, her former apprentice herbalist job. Now there was no one to be her teacher. The old man she had known as her father for the past seven years had died in his sleep the night before. She had just spent the past long day making preparations for him to be buried.
A warm tear rolled slowly down her cheek and she hurriedly brushed it away. There is no need to cry, she told herself. Her grandpa's death had been eminent for awhile now, all she could have done was just sit and play the waiting game with him. And it's not as if she was left with no means of support either. Grandpa had left her their house along with a decent inheritance. The old man had also devoted the last years of his life to teaching her his trade, so she would be able to support herself if the need ever came.
Still, Erin thought, the thought of going home to an empty, quite house doesn't sound too appealing. She sighed a heavy sigh and turned the corner onto a slightly more lighted street. She could see her stone house sitting peacefully at the end of the block and the sight of it made her forget her dread. It instead, was replaced by a sudden wave of tiredness, the result of probably one of the most trying days of her life. Now she wanted nothing more than to go up to her room and collapse on the bed. She could almost feel the warmth of her covers when an alarming sound pricked at her ears.
She stopped abruptly and spun around trying to locate the source of the sound. Had she imagined it? No, there it was again. It was barely louder then a kitten's mew, but Erin was sure she had heard it. It was a moan, and it sounded like a moan of pain. Just then, she saw a black mass lying on the side of the road. As she moved cautiously toward it, Erin saw that it was a man wrapped in a black cloak. He was lying on his side, his face hidden by shadows, and he was shivering.
"Monsieur?" Erin called out quietly as she knelt next to the huddled figure. "Monsieur, are you all right?" but the man only responded with another small whimper. She reached out and gently touched his hand, but quickly drew it back as she felt something wet come in contact with her skin. The fluid was warm and sticky and it didn't take Erin long to realize what she had just touched.
"Oh, merd." She cursed silently. She picked up the man's hand and turned it over. His entire palm was shinning with blood, but it was not his hand that was bleeding. On his wrist was a large gash that was bleeding freely. Erin stared in shock for a moment. This man was trying to kill himself, she thought. Why? But she knew now was not the time to think about that. Quickly, she yanked her kerchief out of her hair and ripped it in half. She tied one half tightly around his wrist and went swiftly to bandage the other. To her dismay, she found that the man's other hand was pinned under his head as some sort of makeshift pillow. She gently pushed the man's head off the hand, but fearfully drew back again as the man's face caught the light emitting from one of the dim street lamps near by. One side of his face was terribly scarred and disfigured. It was a horrifying sight to see, and Erin had to do everything in her power to stop herself from running to the safety of her house that looked so much more comforting and inviting now. She took a deep breath and wrapped up the black-cloaked man's other wrist in the rest of her kerchief.
She knelt there for a couple of seconds, taking it all in. she couldn't leave this man here, and she hated to think of what would happen to him if she called the police or something. Erin looked up to her house, and the back at the man, and back and forth again. She let out another huge sigh and stood up. The though of her warm bed and sleep seemed farther away then ever.