Author's note: No one in this story except Claire belongs to me! All of the POTO characters belong to their creator! Okay, my paragraphs are probably really screwed up, I'm sorry 'bout that J. I've never done anything like this before, please review.
" I can't sing." That was Claire Devoir's reponse to all the prompting and encouragement her friends gave her. Claire had been working at the Opera House since she was twelve. Her love for theatre and music inspired her to walk in and beg for a job. No girl lacking talent could ever hope to appear on the stage, but any lowborn street child could become a cleaning woman. The manager took her on out of charity. Claire soon proved herself useful.
" I think you should try at least once." Meg Giry said one day. Claire was dusting the arms of the audience seats. " The worst that could happen would be for them to turn you down." Claire slapped her dusting rag on a seat a few times, not even making an effort to listen. " Why should you be afraid to try something, Claire? You're usually so brave."
" I'm not scared!" Claire said. " I just can't sing. I'm not scared of anything."
" Are you scared that the Opera Ghost will fall in love with you and take you away?" Meg teased.
Claire laughed. " There's no such thing as the Opera Ghost."
" Oh, don't say that." Meg said, suddenly serious. " He might be listening." Both girls turned to look at the infamous Box Five. Claire strained her ears, trying to catch the sound of a rustling cloak or wicked laugh.
A loud noise made her jump. Meg had kicked a seat. " Not scared of the Opera Ghost?" the older girl asked. Claire glared.
" He disappeared two years ago." she said. " There probably never was a Ghost. Only a man who liked scaring people." She cast one more nervous glance at Box Five. " He's probably dead." she said.
" I hope not." said Meg. " Then who would teach you how to sing?" She laughed and went to her dressing room.
" I'm not going to learn to sing!" Claire shouted after her. " It wouldn't do any good anyways. No one would be able to teach ME how to sing." She started to dust again.
"Why would you waste your time on me anyway?" she shouted, as if the Ghost could hear her. " They wouldn't give me a chance. They know I can't sing and so do you. Meg is wrong." She started to hum and dusted faster. Her humming turned to soft singing.
Think of me
Think of me fondly when we've said good-bye
Remember me, once in a while
Please promise me you'll try
Applause sounded from Box Five. Claire stopped and whirled toward the sound. She clapped her hands over her mouth, unable to believe that she had sung right where anyone could hear!
" Stop playing around, Meg!" She said. " That's not funny." The applause continued. " Would you stop? I know it's you." Claire peered into the shadows. " Are you allowed up there? You better not get in trouble!"
Someone laughed. Not Meg's voice! " I cannot get in trouble. I don't exist!" Claire caught a small glimpse of a cape, the shimmer of a white mask.
"You're the Opera Ghost!" she said.
" You don't give your voice enough credit." The Ghost went on, ignoring her. " If you were taught properly, it would be as your friends tell you."
" My voice...?" Claire put a hand on her throat. She shook her head. " No, I don't have a voice. I can't sing."
" Are you afraid?" The Ghost had a voice though, a beautiful voice that made Claire want to laugh and cry at the same time.
" I'm not... afraid." Claire was afraid, but she wasn't about to tell HIM that. " I just know I can't sing." Why did she think that? Who had told her that?
She waited for the Ghost to answer her, to tell her she was right or wrong. But there was no answer. Claire sat in a seat. No Opera Gost indeed. " I'm sorry I said you weren't real!" she said.
" I can't sing." That was Claire Devoir's reponse to all the prompting and encouragement her friends gave her. Claire had been working at the Opera House since she was twelve. Her love for theatre and music inspired her to walk in and beg for a job. No girl lacking talent could ever hope to appear on the stage, but any lowborn street child could become a cleaning woman. The manager took her on out of charity. Claire soon proved herself useful.
" I think you should try at least once." Meg Giry said one day. Claire was dusting the arms of the audience seats. " The worst that could happen would be for them to turn you down." Claire slapped her dusting rag on a seat a few times, not even making an effort to listen. " Why should you be afraid to try something, Claire? You're usually so brave."
" I'm not scared!" Claire said. " I just can't sing. I'm not scared of anything."
" Are you scared that the Opera Ghost will fall in love with you and take you away?" Meg teased.
Claire laughed. " There's no such thing as the Opera Ghost."
" Oh, don't say that." Meg said, suddenly serious. " He might be listening." Both girls turned to look at the infamous Box Five. Claire strained her ears, trying to catch the sound of a rustling cloak or wicked laugh.
A loud noise made her jump. Meg had kicked a seat. " Not scared of the Opera Ghost?" the older girl asked. Claire glared.
" He disappeared two years ago." she said. " There probably never was a Ghost. Only a man who liked scaring people." She cast one more nervous glance at Box Five. " He's probably dead." she said.
" I hope not." said Meg. " Then who would teach you how to sing?" She laughed and went to her dressing room.
" I'm not going to learn to sing!" Claire shouted after her. " It wouldn't do any good anyways. No one would be able to teach ME how to sing." She started to dust again.
"Why would you waste your time on me anyway?" she shouted, as if the Ghost could hear her. " They wouldn't give me a chance. They know I can't sing and so do you. Meg is wrong." She started to hum and dusted faster. Her humming turned to soft singing.
Think of me
Think of me fondly when we've said good-bye
Remember me, once in a while
Please promise me you'll try
Applause sounded from Box Five. Claire stopped and whirled toward the sound. She clapped her hands over her mouth, unable to believe that she had sung right where anyone could hear!
" Stop playing around, Meg!" She said. " That's not funny." The applause continued. " Would you stop? I know it's you." Claire peered into the shadows. " Are you allowed up there? You better not get in trouble!"
Someone laughed. Not Meg's voice! " I cannot get in trouble. I don't exist!" Claire caught a small glimpse of a cape, the shimmer of a white mask.
"You're the Opera Ghost!" she said.
" You don't give your voice enough credit." The Ghost went on, ignoring her. " If you were taught properly, it would be as your friends tell you."
" My voice...?" Claire put a hand on her throat. She shook her head. " No, I don't have a voice. I can't sing."
" Are you afraid?" The Ghost had a voice though, a beautiful voice that made Claire want to laugh and cry at the same time.
" I'm not... afraid." Claire was afraid, but she wasn't about to tell HIM that. " I just know I can't sing." Why did she think that? Who had told her that?
She waited for the Ghost to answer her, to tell her she was right or wrong. But there was no answer. Claire sat in a seat. No Opera Gost indeed. " I'm sorry I said you weren't real!" she said.