Sorry to disappoint my Shaman King fans. The Phantom of the Opera is inside my mind and I got to get it out before I post the last chapter...depending on response I have five other chapters besides this one I will add later. So heart is goes

Christine yawned, rubbing underneath her eyes as she unlocked the door to her room. Her feet were sore, her body ached and her throat was dry as she dragged her tired form to her bed and fell helplessly upon it. She sighed, staring up at the dark ceiling absently and reflected on everything that had happened to her in the last two months. She was accepted to the Triumph Theatre Company directly out of school. It was not that impressive since the school she went to was in association with the company and many students were accepted to Triumph once they finished their schooling. It was not that different from school except she got her own room.
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hat had been impressive was that, being a newbie to the theatre, she was supposed to start out small and be in the chorus. However, after only one month, Christine received a role in the theatre's opera production of Faust, in which she played Siebel. It had been exciting and surprising when she had first received the part but now the strenuous and constant rehearsals, the demanding director and the overconfident veteran actors, who looked at her with disdain, were beginning to wear her down. Especially Carlotta…

Christine groaned, running her hands over her face and through her strawberry-blonde hair. Carlotta's words suddenly rang though her head but she tried to push them aside. Sighing, she forced herself to sit up to remove her shoes and turn the lights on. She examined her room for a moment and smiled wearily. It was small, and for once tidy, room with warm pale yellow walls and a white ceiling. Her twin bed was on the left side of the door and was directly across from her window on the other side.

The window had long, warm-colored drapes with a pretty floral pattern. In the corner on the right side of the window, she had a small bookcase with her stereo and alarm clock perched upon it. Next to it on the right wall was a small desk with her laptop and small TV. At the foot of her bed was the entrance to her own bathroom and to the right was a large, beautifully crafted mirror that had been in the room before she moved in. It was not a big as some of the other rooms but she did not mind. It was nice and quaint for a person like her.

Christine turned the light on in her bathroom. It was just like her room, small and simple with a stand-up shower, one sink and a mini walk in closet. Since her room was already cramped with basics, they had moved her dressers into her closet. However, unlike her room, her closet was a mess and she had to climb over piles of clothes to get her pajamas. She replaced her day clothes with an old t-shirt that belonged to her father and a pair of baggy flannel pants with Winnie the Pooh on them.

Then like clockwork, she went though her nighttime ritual without another thought of what had happened that day. She washed her face free of make-up, brushed her teeth, pulled her long locks back into a ponytail, and went back to check off another day in her calendar. Just two more months of rehearsal, she thought, flipping through the cat calendar. If it is already becoming too much for you now, doll, it just gets tougher the closer we get to opening night. So I am going to give you some advice, thespian to thespian. Quit while you are ahead and let someone with experience play Siebel. Alright, sweetie. Christine pursed her lips together as Carlotta's thick Spanish accent pushed into her mind. The leading lady and reigning diva has pulled her aside after rehearsal just to tell her that in the most condescending manner. Christine sighed and turned off the lights before kneeling in front of her bed.

"Dad, I think I am in way over my head. Today, Carlotta made the most irritating suggestion and even though I tried to forget about it and continue. I find myself wondering if I really should just quit while I am ahead. I know…I know you say never quit, it is just an obstacle that needs to be faced but…I…I…just do not think I can do it. My heart is not in it to succeed and throw it in Carlotta's face. Please guide me. I really need your help."

Silence filled the room except for the hum of her laptop. Christine sighed, whipping her eyes of unshed tears. He never answered her. She tried night after night, praying and talking to him and begging him just to reply. To send her the angel he promised but it never came. However, she always found herself praying for him even though she was beginning to lose faith. Disappointed and numb, Christine crawled into bed and curled underneath her blanket. The hollow, depressing and sinking feeling of loss and abandonment began to fill her again as her body began to settle down for the night. It had happened almost every night for the last three years since her father died. It would gnaw at her for hours until she finally drifted off into a restless sleep. However, tonight, there was something different.

It was no longer silent in the room. There was a distant sound somewhere nearby and at first it was not very distinct. Christine dismissed it as someone walking around outside her room. However it began to get loud and clear until it formed into a voice. A male's voice that was very soothing and placid and gentle. He was half-singing in a foreign language that sounded like French. Christine jolted up into a sitting position, her mouth slightly open. Where was that coming from? She looked around the dark room, shadows dancing about in the night with a faint glimmer of the moon seeping through the bottom of the drapes.

"Okay. Not funny. Who is there?" The singing stopped and Christine tried to listen for any movements or other noises. There was nothing. Christine closed her eyes for a moment, slowly taking in a breath and letting it out. Great, now I am hearing things.

"Good evening, Christine." Christine yelped in surprise and through her hands over her mouth. An engaging laugh filled the room, which caused Christine to frown. She jumped out of bed and turned on the lights. Her room was empty. She frantically began to search her room. She checked behind the drapes and only found the window that revealed the night. Christine stalked to her bathroom next and did a search of her closet to see if anyone was hiding within the clothes. She checked in the shower and underneath her bed. However, she did not find anything. Scowling, Christine stood in the middle of her room with her hands on her hips.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. Who is this?" There was no reply for a moment. Christine bit her bottom lip, looking at herself in the mirror. "You are losing it, girl."

"No, you are not, child." Christine jumped at the unexpected reply.

"Okay. Stop playing around. Who are you and why are you messing with me at this time at night?" Her voice got tight and angry as she looked around the room to trace the source of the voice. It seemed to fill her room, covering very inch with a strong but soft male voice.

"I am your angel," he replied. "I have come to help you."