AN: We finally get back to Christine ! This is a short chapter, I know, but my amazing beta who makes my work ten times better is still on vacation. This chapter title, as you may know, is a lyric from the Phantom of the opera musical, and the song Wishing You a Were Somehow Here Again. Does anybody else like Vampire Diaries ?


Passing Bells and Sculpted Angels

Christine Daaƫ hummed a soft tune as she walked around the desolate graveyard. She soon reached her father's grave and kneeled in front of the tombstone.

" Gustave Daaƫ 1824-1878
A beloved father, husband, and violinist. " The tombstone read plainly in dark font . Christine sobbed, for her father, for her mother, for poor Erik, for sweet Raoul, for herself. Her hands grabbed the bottom of her dark red cloak and balled them up into fists. Why must bad events happen to good people ?

Her porcelain cheeks were still dripping with tears when she asked her father for guidance. Christine explained her problems to her unresponsive father and hoped to have any sort of sign.

"What should I do Papa ? I feel so alone, oh how I wish you were still here , " she asked her father. Christine could imagine her father's calloused hands affectionately petting her hair as she sat in front of him while he recited a fairy tale. She could imagine her father's response to her rhetorical question.

" Do what your heart wishes, " he would croon to her while she laid in bed , " Look with your heart and not with your eyes. "

Her decision was made. Not that Christine had any say in the matter, the two men controlled what everything she would say or do. She had to be the docile women society expected. Christine knew that society thought opera girls were promiscuous , yet she had only had one kiss with a young Raoul at the age of 1 and 4 . After he had fetched her red scarf for her the two were inseparable . Raoul kissed Christine one day behind her Papa's house. Little Christine had been so frightened that she did not even respond back ! She laughed at the memory and made her way over to Mama Valerius's grave.

Christine prayed at Mama Valerius's grave for a few moments, placed some flowers on the ground beneath and walked back to the brougham. She passed by weeping willows tree with dead leaves that seemed to sneer at her. The dark was setting upon the graveyard, giving the place an eerie chill. Christine pulled her cloak tighter and walked a little faster, not liking the dark that reminded her so much of Erik's lair. She was almost to the wrought iron gates when a hand on her shoulder halted her movements. Christine did not want to turn to see who it was. She all ready knew it was the mysterious cloaked driver. The hand burned a hole upon her shoulder as it then moved to stroke her blonde curls. The stroking then turned to pulling as the uncomfortable snaked its way down her spine. Christine soon felt a sharp tip upon her back. She turned before the man could touch her or hurt her anymore.

"Monsieur Joseph Buquet ? "


AN: Suprise! Now before you say he is dead, is he dead in the books before Apollo's Lyre , I'm not sure. This is my story and I can do anything I want with the characters. The scene is the rising action before our conflict so it is integral to this story.