ookkkay sorry if the first 2 chapters sucked c/e interaction in this one.feel free to tell me if I am killing the story so I can stop! If you like it, review too. thanx.

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I had spent only a week at the school before I was once again ripped out of familiar (if only a little) place and dropped into a new room. The other students were jealous for this room was something of prize in their eyes. It was larger than the others, larger and secluded on its own corridor. The room itself made no sense. The location was so strange, like the architect had thrown it in at the last minute with no purpose in mind. It was quite lovely, actually, but I found it odd that I should live there. Why me, and why after a week somewhere else? I didn't understand.

I soon grew lonely. I had made one friend, Meg, a shy girl whose room had been next to mine. We were both timid and started the relationship cautiously. She was a sweet girl, and I liked her. Some of the other students found it amusing to remind her of her mother's position at the school: cleaning woman. They, of course, were the ones jealous of Meg's incredible dancing.

My music lessons were going terribly. I was convinced my teacher, Monsieur Dubose, hated me. It seemed his vocabulary consisted only of words of criticism. Dreadful! Hopeless! A waste of time! I knew my voice had weakened, but were words like that really necessary?

One night I lay in my new bed, contemplating my day. It had been particularly awful. Monsieur had sent my from my lesson early, proclaiming, "Child, there is nothing I can do with you! Your voice died long ago. This school is reserved for those who wish to make a career from their talents, but you have no hope of that. Perhaps this is not the place for you. I know there are many youths who are eager to be in your place."

His words had driven me to tears. Auntie had sent me here with such dreams of glory and fame. How could I disappoint her so? I missed her, missed her so much that it hurt to think of home, but I couldn't leave now. Auntie had given me so much; I wanted to repay her with her wish.

There, in the dark silence of my room, I began to cry once again. All this pain for nothing. I would never grace any stage. What was the point?

Then a miracle occurred. A smooth, sweet whisper swept into the room, flooding my ears with its harmonious sound.

". . .Christine. . ."

I sat up, suddenly alert.

". . .Christine . . ."

The voice grew louder and its beauty struck me. Only the softest sound, yet so perfectly pitched! So wonderfully like music. My ears yearned to hear it again-to hear it forever!

"Christine!"

It struck me that the voice must want a response. My lips trembled as a spoke, "Who's there? How do you know my name?"

"Oh, Miss DaaƩ, I know much about you. I know you are miserable here. I know that you cry because your music teacher is a fool. You mustn't weep so. It pains me."

"You flatter me, but who are you?"

"I am there, always, if you need me. Call to me and I will hear. No matter where you are, I will hear and come to you."

I was growing annoyed, "Yes, yes, that's all very well and good, but to what name should I call?" I laughed, sure this was nothing more than a thrilling dream, "Only and ghost or angel could hear from anywhere and everywhere! Which are you?"

"I am both ghost and angel, but to you always the latter. You need not ever fear me."

"Then, Angel you shall be. But of what, pray tell? Mind reading? That's what it seems like!"

The air was silent for a moment, as if the voice were thinking, "The angel. . .of music."

"Very well. Angel of Music it is. I've heard of you from. . ." I paused, pained by the memory of my father, "my father. He spoke of you often. I am much obliged that you visit me!"

I waited patiently for a reply, but all was silent. I laughed to myself. I must have been hallucinating. I was finally going crazy! Angel of Music indeed!