Chapter 2 "Finding Ones Self"
"Christine you'll feel better once you walk outside!" Meg encouraged toward Christine, "We'll even stop by the blacksmith if that's what is bothering you."
That was it of course, Christine needed Raoul. She needed, wanted, him by her side forever, she was scared to death of being alone. The ghost could find her, tak her away and never return. The thought frightened her
"Oh please Meg! I feel like I must see him!" Christine pleaded
"If that's what you want then we'll go." Meg said as she starting out the door. The brightness of the sun blinded Christine for a moment, its gentle rays had long since touched her pale skin. The season, if Christine had recalled right, was winter when she had last stepped foot on the brick street's of Paris, France. The bricks them self had not changed, but everything about them had changed. The wind from the spring and the snow from the winter had weathered them down and forever changed them.
In fact, everything had changed, especially the look on the people's face as Christine and Meg walked down the brick path. Everything seemed natural, before they turned the bend that opened up the courtyard the where the Market opened up, bustling with excitement, but when Christine came into view she could have sworn the noise stopped at once, and every pair of eyes shot toward her and her growing stomach. Slowly, the noise increased to it beginning height. Christine heard her name being whispered, but willed herself not to listen past that.
She wanted to hide herself, hideaway where the world could no longer see her, no more words could be said about her. Was this how he felt? That to feel somewhat normal, he had to hide away where harmful stares and words could never reach him. Is this the way he had felt everyday? Maybe it was the thought that had carried her to Smith&Co. Blacksmith and into the strong, loving arms of her husband. That she glanced toward the small box window that revealed the ashes of the Opera House, that she had realized the location of the blacksmith.
It was, indeed,not far from the Opera Popular. The place where it had happened, the event that would make her,shape her, and shake her for the rest of her life. He had come to her in a dream, a ghost. This ghost was far different from others, not a goblin nor a witch nor wizard. He was a magician yes, and a genius. He was composer, he was the voice and music Christine had needed when her father had passed.
He was, as you might say, the shinning beacon she had needed to compose herself during her father's death. He taught her how to use her voice, trained her, and slowly began to love her. Throughout the years I guess you could say the curiosity had brought some attraction between them. A bond that would be hard to break, not even fire nor the thought of loving another man could break this attraction. It wasn't love, but something far more powerful, perhaps something like Christine was feeling deep inside herself. Perhaps she wasn't longing to see Raoul, the person who had given her everything, his love, his money, his home, but perhaps it was the ghost, the Opera Ghost. The Phantom of the Opera.