2018 December 4
Went shopping today. Seems to be many little shops all along the streets and boulevards! And they sell all manner of things! I do not know how, but I seem to be quite fluent in the native language of Paris, French. I could converse with the shop vendors, and none even suspected that just within this past year even, I was in the United States of America.
Got myself some black dress pants! Well, what did you expect? Can't exactly "haunt" the Palais Garnier in a dress! However, most still mistake me for a man! Am I too skinny to be a woman? But I thought it was all the rage to be thin, i.e., not fat. Or is it because I barely have what the ruder, rougher sex calls a "rack"? I am sick of it! Of all the confusion!
Ah, well, perhaps it is for the best that I am thought of as a man. Less discrimination, more believability. People tend to question less a man, asking for such as I ask, but a woman? If they knew, everything would be ruined.
1907 January 17
We are leaving the Palais Garnier for good, even Paris and France, within this month. I have decided to immigrate to America with Angelique. She is eighteen now, turned that age last October 31. Yes, I know that that is All Hallows Eve, and it is very ironic that she should have been then, as she was born with a death's head like mine…
She does not need a wig to cover a sparse head of hair like mine, although it is not because of my age—it has always been that way. No, she is lucky that way. Full head of long black hair. What? I have never had it cut!
All the same, I believe we must leave. People are getting suspicious, and it has not been long since I have caught an intruder who dared to venture out on the lake, despite the warning of the presence of its sirens. I fear our secret is out, and that they soon will have revenge! I certainly hope not, as my little (not so little anymore… ha ha!) Angelique has done nothing worthy of their revenge.
--- Erik
1907 February 1
We are on a boat! I do not know where we are going; only that it is an ocean away. Some place called America. Papa says I must not leave our stateroom suite without my mask. He had said that twice before, earlier in my life—first, before we went shopping, and the second, just before we left. Why does he keep saying that? I really do not understand.
I am not, however, saying that this room is at all uncomfortable, as it is only too comfortable that I do not feel safe as I did in me and papa's old hone by the lake…
(Angelique)
I hope I have not upset her too bad, what with the sudden leaving of the only place she has ever known her whole life. At least she seems to be enjoying the trip at least. I have saved quite a fortune over my stay in the Paris Opera House from the managers.
(Erik)