Memoirs of a Tragedy in Nineteenth Century Paris

by AmedeCuivre

I was a foolish young girl who dreamed of an angel while lying in the arms of her beloved. My world was a fairytale, and nothing could convince me otherwise. But Truth is never a kind master, and that night was to be my punishment. No shipping.

1. Chapter 1

This is a story about the end of The Phantom of the Opera, and what happens after. I am writing from Christine's point of view for a challenge- I find it much easier to get into Erik or Raoul's heads, but since Christine really is the character that bridges the worlds of these two men, she should be the one to narrate, for at least this story. I am basing the story off the movie version, rather than the books or the stage play, for the simple reason that I much prefer the movie (I have read the Leroux and Kay novels, and seen the stage performance twice, but I really just prefer the movie).

DISCLAIMER: I don't have any rights to any of The Phantom of the Opera enterprises in any way/shape/form. I also don't have any rights to the Celeste Mogador novel from which I got the title for this story.

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You would like me to tell you about the events surrounding the Great Fire that destroyed the Opera Populaire in 1871? No, of course I remember what happened, I simply do not understand why you would come to me- a retired diva- when you have the testimonies of hundreds of audience members, and stagehands at your disposal.

I see. It is not the fire that you want to know about. You are cleverer than the rest, to realize what an unhappy role I played in the events of that night. I was no mere bystander, unfortunately, and my disappearance was more relevant than many would guess.

You want to know what happened with Erik-

Who is Erik? Erik is the man you call a monster. He made himself famous as the opera ghost, the Phantom, but to me he will always be Erik. And so it will be for you as well.

You want sensational details that will catch the eye of your reader and, in due time, I suppose I could oblige with stories that you will never believe. I daresay I can hardly believe them myself. But such is the way of the world, I have learned, that the most outrageous adventures are just as real as the mundane lives we would like to imagine we live.

But enough of my prattle- you did not come for my opinions, you came for my memories. And memory is what I shall give you…