Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, or any of its character. I also do not own the Empire State Building, The Tower of London, or the Great Wall of China.
Gaspard's turn would not come for a long time. The carnival continued its progress, I continued on as the Devil's Child, and Gaspard continued his unremitting campaign of cruelty. I barely noticed any longer. It meant nothing to me. I merely allowed my music to well up and swallow any feelings of anger or pain I might have had. My music was growing more beautiful and more powerful with each passing day. It began to be who I was; my very essence.
Gaspard eventually replaced poor Rollo with another monkey. This one seemed to get on with him much better than my old friend had. Coco was a nasty, vicious little beast, who pinched and bit with no provocation. Perhaps sensing his master's feelings, he took especial delight in bedeviling me. Gaspard found this to be quite amusing, and would bring Coco with him between shows, just to watch him torment me. It was on one of these visits to my cage, that Gaspard found the toy monkey. It was a broken remnant of a larger toy, dropped by some careless child that day. Anyone else would have kicked it aside and continued on his way, but not Gaspard. Gaspard picked the filthy thing up, and brought it with him. He presented it to me, that night. He told me that he'd found a little pet that was perfect for me. It was, he said, as damaged and worthless as I was. He grinned conspiratorially and whispered that he'd "removed" little Rollo, so I could have this new friend. He tossed the thing on the ground before me, and left, laughing uproariously at his joke. On his shoulder, the damnable Coco hooted and chattered as if he knew what had just transpired.
After they'd gone, I picked up the toy monkey. It was apparent that it once belonged to some sort of mechanical device. It had a small cymbal attached to each hand, and its arms could be moved to make the cymbals clash against one another. It had seen hard use, and was in a most deplorable condition. It mattered not; it was mine. Gaspard, though he did not know it, had sealed his fate that night. In taunting me with the broken and filthy toy, he had hardened my resolve. The monkey became a symbol to me, a standard which I bore, day in and day out.My cocoon of insensibility began to slowly open. I knew there would come a day that Gaspard would pay dearly for his crimes against me. I did not know how, or when, but I knew without a doubt that someday it would happen. And so, I named the monkey Rollo for my dear, lost friend, and I kept it close to me always. At night I would lie on the hard wooden floor of the wagon, coldly and unemotionally making plans. My future seemed fraught with darkness, but at least now I had one.
My daily routine changed slightly in the ensuing months. I became more aware of my surroundings. I examined my cage thoroughly, and noted that it was a reasonably flimsy affair. It was loosely bolted together, to enable quick break-down and reassembly. Rollo, I found, was held together with thin sturdy metal wires. I removed one from his leg, and with it learned to pick the lock that held the cage door closed. At this point, I could have fled at any time, but wisely refrained. The very thought of my twelve-year old self wandering around the countryside, half naked and with a sack over my head was ludicrous. Besides, escape at that point was not my intention. I had decided to wait.
In further perusal of the cage, I realized that the ropes that tied its parts together for transporting were left hanging on the bars when not in use. The bars themselves were sturdy, and I found that they were quite useful for exercising on during the quiet times when no one was there. Two years of confinement had weakened me greatly,but I was young, and youthis resilient. Ibegan hoisting myself around the bars, trying to emulate the feats which I remembered seeing Rollo perform. Soon I was supple and agile enough to move along the cage bars like an acrobat. I built up my strength in other ways. There were bales of straw in the corners of the cage which I began to lift. I remembered certain exercises that I'd read about in books in my father's library. I implemented them with excellent results. The ropes I grasped tightly and pulled with all my strength. My hands and arms became like iron. And so, while I continued my public existence as a blank, mindless thing, in secret I was rebuilding myself. I now had one goal which could bring me out of the void I'd created for myself, and Gaspard figured greatly in it.
Eventually, I knew that I was ready. All I needed now was an opportunity to use my new skills and strength. The timing had to be perfect, I knew. After I had finally dealt with Gaspard, my intent was to flee. Therefore, the carnival had to be in a large, well populated city, where someone like myself could easily disappear. I had not forgotten the self-taught lessons of my early years, and I knew I could do it. All I needed was a chance. That chance came much more swiftly than I'd imagined.
We had completed our last performance, and the carnival was being broken down. Everyone seemed more animated than usual, and laughter and fragments of song drifted through the night. There was an air of excitement within the troupe that I'd never sensed before. I sat in my cage, waiting for Gaspard to release me, and idly listening to the activities outside of the tent. Gaspard was later in coming, that night, and he was in a more jovial mood than I'd ever seen him. He actually draped his arm over my shoulder as he walked me from the tent. I was revolted by the contact, but remained silent as he leaned closer to talk to me. He was going to make a fortune, he told me. We were going to a place where people would surely dig deep in their purses to see my beastly face. We were going to Paris!
Paris! I couldn't believe my ears. I had read about Paris, and it was exactly the kind of place I required. It teeming with people of all sorts, and was a huge maze of buildings and alleyways. I could disappear there, and no one would ever find me. I quickly and carefully masked my thoughts. It would complicate things if Gaspard were to suspect that I felt the least little excitement about our next stop. It would mean that his attentions would focus even more intensely on me, as he endeavored to make my stay in Paris as miserable as possible. I needed him to treat me as he normally did. I needed him to see me as merely a thing. I had nothing to worry about. As usual, Gaspard displayed the sensibilities of a mushroom. He continued to rhapsodize about the money I was about to make him, and never stopped talking until we reached my wagon. I silently entered, and heard the bolt slide closed. I sat in the dark, contemplating my good fortune. Paris! We were going to Paris, and I was ready. It was time.
All I needed was a chance.