Ok, this is my first Phantom of the opera fan fiction, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I would really like to know what you think, so I know wheather or not I should continue or not. So please review and tell me of your thoughts.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own phantom of the opera!
Phantom of the Opera
Not many people remember the story of the phantom of the opera, and few of those that do know of it believe that it was true. But what of those whom survived it? Those who experienced the site themselves, the great chandelier crashing to the ground, the disappearance of Christine Daae and her love Vicomte de Chagny. Something even those have looked over, is the fact that our story shall continue... of coarse it would be impossible for it to continue with Christine and Erik, but if not them then whom? Our story takes flight in a large Paris home, only a few blocks away from the grand opera house in which that tragic tale took place.
A young girl looking about the age of 16 rushed along the cobble stone streets of Paris carrying a bouquet of red roses. Her light, curly brown hair flew with the air that rushed pass her, and her curious brown eyes were looking ahead in quiet desperation to reach her destination. Finally after a few blocks of scurrying along the streets she arrived in front of a large old fashioned Paris home. She stood in front of the door brushing off her long white dress and knocked on the old wooden door. The door was opened by a young butler, and she stepped into a large foryer.
The foryer was simply grand. It had magnificent wooden flooring and a superb crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. The light from the candles that lined the wall reflected off it creating small spots of light across the floor. There was a grand staircase leading up to the second floor, and on both sides of the staircase was large tapestries of the utmost elegance and beauty. The staircase looked as if it were made of granite, and up the middle of it was red velvet carpet that led down to the front foryer door. Next to the door stood two coat racks on either sides.
The young girl made her way up the stairs quickly, making each step with a certain preciseness that could only take the grace of a ballerina. As she got to the top of the staircase she opened a large wooden door revealing a fairly aged woman laying in a bed. The room was quite large itself and filled with nearly nothing save a well carved wooden dresser, a night stand, and a bed that was only big enough to fit one person. The young girl stepped next to the bed, her rush now gone. She sat the bouquet of roses on the night stand, and touched the old woman's hand lightly then touched a small golden bracelet on her wrist that had the name 'Christine de Chagny' engraved on it in smooth lucida letters. This made the girl slightly curious, considering she had never remembered seeing the ring before then. Christine griped the young girls hand and looked up to her opening her aged brown eyes, those eyes that use to sparkle so brightly when she was upon a brightly lit stage singing in front of a captivated audience, and speaking in a clear tone she said in a humble state of mind, "Dear Chloe... when I am in heaven... I shall send to you... your own angel of music..." she then closed her eyes and began to sing in a soft and ever clear tone that would not be expected of a woman of that age, thinking back to Erik, and all that had happened back then, she hoped that her daughter not be caught in a situation so dire and demanding, but she did hope that her daughter would find someone that she really loved. She had that wish for her daughter, and now she was dreaming of it. Dreaming of Erik, and her daughter's future she heard a voice in her head singing through her with the most precise tone:
"Think of me... think of me fondly when we say good bye remember me once in a while...please promise me you'll try."
With that stanza sung Christine closed her eyes and her hand fell open, a golden ring falling to the floor and rolling to the corner of the room making a slight dinging sound as it halted and fell on it's side. Silent tears rolled down Chloe's cheek as she stood to receive the ring that had fallen to the floor. Chloe bent down to pick the ring up and noticed a loose board in the wooden floor. She lifted the plank up revealing a small keepsake box. She pulled it out and opened it, her curious eyes scanning over many envelopes, each baring a read skeleton seal, and on the front of each read in messy writing, 'to my only love.' Chloe sat the letter back in the box and brought her hands to her face. She stood wiping the tears away as she sang in an angelic voice,
"I'll think of you...think of you fondly even after our good bye...even more than once in a whileI promise you I'll try."
She then walked out the door her eyes closed as she didn't look back. She didn't look back to her mother, and she didn't look back to the strange letters. She only clenched the small golden ring as she walked out of her home. As she reached the outside she sighed lightly looking to the sky awaiting her own angel of music, her own guide and protector... just like the one her mother had always spoken so fondly of. An angel there to sing to her in her dreams, just like he had once with her mother. But her only question was... would it be the same? Would the angel treat her with as much love as he did her mother? All she figured she could do now though was wait. She looked up into the bright sky, tears falling down her cheeks, yet a smile adorning her soft features. Her eyes were showing love, as if she saw her mother in the sky, in the heavens.