1898 December 3

Angelique has grown by leaps and bounds. She's so tall now! I have taught her all I know, and she is but ten years of age! She knows her way around the Opera Populaire and all its many miles of secret passages. She is strong and can climb like a monkey, not surprisingly she reminds me of my youth.

Tonight, she wanted to go to an opera. Of course, I had to write another note to the managers, reminding them of the terms of my contract and the situation with box five…

We arrive early. She asks why we must go so early and cannot watch the people as they come. I was shocked! Had she no idea why I never take us outside together? I do not want to hurt her feelings with humanity's ignorance. So I told her that we are ghosts, phantoms! And did she want to frighten all the people away? To this, she replied, "No, it would be wrong," in her clear, angelic voice.

(Erik)

I was so excited! I'd never seen an opera! And papa was attending with me! He's never done that before! I wonder why? He would teach me all about the music and the operas, but would never let me see them…

(Angelique)

What a fat cow Carlotta is! She cannot sing; and she cannot act! If only Christine still sang. Sigh. But it is impossible now. She went off and married that fop, Raoul! At least I have a daughter now, and that comforts me very much in my bouts of black melancholia. She is at times, literally, the light of my life.

I must make a point of telling the managers of the lamentable mess that was tonight's performance! But, at times, it was actually enjoyable, I must admit. I know I saw Angelique wince a time or two as Carlotta struggled to hit the high notes. I know how she must feel—because for me, it felt like a knife had been repeatedly stabbed in my heart and chest!

(Erik)

2018 November 1

I've cried myself to sleep, it seems. How horrible! A visage of death stared at me! Is that me? Is that why I never saw a mirror in my youth? My fingers, they are very thin, long, and skeletal, feel my face, what there is of it. I shiver at their cold touch. Where is my nose? I have no nose!

A mask! I need a mask! Where can I find a mask? Who would ever love me again? How will I be able to travel without suspicion and fear following in my footsteps? No! I do not want it this way! Why must this happen to me?

What cruel hand of fate has dealt me this new, horrible blow?

--- Angelique

2018 November 2

Decided to venture outside the house in the lake. Ventured even higher into the Opera house, I found whole rooms of clothes. I chose a variety of masks, including a natural-looking face. It would be useful for getting around outside.

My favorite mask, though, is black, trimmed with gold, and set with jewels. Of course I took it, could prove useful. Well, you never know...

I wish I could intermingle with the crowds of actors, actresses, set technicians, stagehands, and other assorted people working within the Opera house. Oh, to have a normal face and a normal life!

--- Angelique