Disclaimer: Nope...I STILL don't own Phantom...

Okay, here it is! I hope you all like it!

I had just received my pay. I was quite happy to say the least. It was Saturday and it was I had just gotten out from work.

"Here you are, Roxanne," Said the man of the house, Darcy Ames, as he handed me an envelope.

"Thank you sir," I said gratefully, a grin on my face.

He laughed and put his hand on my shoulder. "You deserve it."

It seemed as if I was doing a lot of running these days. Right now, I was running to a part of town where things to buy were more abundant.

I reached the street filled with all different people. I slowed to a walk. I was looking for several things. I had decided a couple weeks ago that this was what I was going to do first with the money.

I found the store I was looking for, it was a small shop, but it had just the things I needed. After doing a little browsing, I picked out the items I was going to buy, some paper and charcoal for me and some paper, ink, and a quill for Erik. I wanted him to be able to get back to writing music and of course, I wanted to get back to drawing.

I handed the money to the man at the counter and he made a few marks on a sheet of paper.

"Thank you, Mademoiselle, have a nice day."

"Thank you." I smiled at him. I exited the store and about as quickly as I was running before, I took off to the broken house.

Once again I was flying! And I loved it.

I reached the house and I found Erik sitting in his usual spot, in the old wooden chair. He looked up to see me coming.

"I've brought you something," I said and I handed him the ink, paper, and quill. He looked at the gifts for a moment then he looked up at me. "I just thought you might get bored sitting here all day, and I wanted you to get back to writing music." I smiled.

I had a feeling he was smiling too. He didn't say anything, he just took my hand in his, and that was all the thanks I needed.

The next day I spent with Erik. We sat in the same room, me drawing, him quickly scribbling down some music. We didn't do much talking, for awhile it was mostly silence and artwork.

"I talked to the other maid again," I said.

After a second he looked up from where he had been writing. "And what did she say?"

"She still isn't quite sure on what to do. She thinks that she'll tell him soon though."

"I hope they find their happiness."

"I hope the same thing."

Then we went back to our separate activities and said no more on the subject that day.

Next Friday, I was getting ready make my way to the broken house. I was cleaning up before I went home that for the day. I finished dusting several shelves. I wiped my hands on my apron and sighed. I was finally done. I was just about to leave when M. Ames came up behind me.

"Roxanne," he said and I turned around. He was smiling. I smiled back. He was really a nice man.

"Roxanne, I'm sorry to keep you longer, but can you come help me clean something up? I broke a bottle of brandy in my study."

In my mind I was thinking Couldn't you just clean it up yourself? I'm supposed to be off duty! But what came out was "Of course, I'll help."

I followed him to the study. I walked in and looked around. The bottle of brandy was sitting on his desk, unbroken.

"Monsieur Ames? Where's the spill?" I turned around just in time to see him lock the door.

"There's no spill Roxanne." I didn't like the way this was headed.

"Then why have you brought me here?" I demanded, my fists clenched and shaking from fear. I was scared. I didn't know what to expect.

"Roxanne, ma cherie…"

I cut him off. "Don't call me that." I didn't want one of Erik's names for me to become polluted.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." He was coming closer to me, I backed up, trying my best to keep away from him.

"Monsieur Ames, please, do not." I begged.

"Do not? Do not what? What do you think I'm going to do." He continued toward me until finally I was back up against the wall. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his hot breath on my skin. "Do not…what?"

"You know what, please, don't!" I said quietly.
But he didn't listen. Soon enough his mouth was on my neck. I was trying desperately to push him off to no avail. He mashed his body against mine.

"No! Stop! You're hurting me!" I pleaded and protested but he wouldn't stop. I was trying to kick him, trying to make him fall over somehow. Then I kicked him somewhere which seemed to hurt him very much. He fell backwards, cringing the entire time.

"Roxanne, you bitch…" The very words my father had said to me. I didn't stay to hear anything else. I ran straight home.

When I had left the manor, I had been crying but I managed to stop before I got to the broken house. But Erik could still tell.

"Ma biche? Have you been crying?" He asked, in a very concerned way.

"No," I sniffed. I tried to keep from crying full force, but I couldn't help it. Then all of a sudden, I started feeling panicked. It was coming on again. After about two months with no signs, here it was, back again. Erik could tell something was wrong. He came up to me and put his hands on my shoulders.

I was gasping for air. "Monsieur Ames…tried to…tried to…I..I said no…but he…wouldn't stop…I got away but….scared….I'm scared…"

Erik obviously got what I was trying to say because his eyes all of a sudden got the look of a wild animal.

"He did what?" Erik had raised his voice. I could tell he was mad. Furious. "When I get my hands on…."

"No!" I said. "Not again…we…we…can't run….anymore…no more…stay…with me…I need you…" I started crying even harder. And at this point, he pulled me close to him, but it didn't bother me, unlike the unfamiliar touch of Monsieur Ames.

Erik just held me for a long time. His arms were wrapped around me, in a warm loving embrace and I felt safer there than I had anywhere before.

Finally I had calmed down enough to speak normally.
"What exactly happened?" Erik asked me. We were both sitting on his cloak on the floor.

I ran my fingers over the creases in the fabric.

"Erik, forgive me, but I don't really want to talk about it right now."

"Just humor me in one way please?"

"What way?" I asked.

"Tell me that he didn't succeed."

"No, he didn't."

He said no more on the subject. He just sat there looking at me. And I looked at him. Slowly, I crawled over to where he was sitting and I leaned against him. He once more put his arms around me.

"Thank you," I said. I didn't even have to say for what.

"You're welcome." And at that point, I knew that there was a definite understanding.

The next morning Erik was by my side, he stayed by me the entire night. I think he was extremely worried about me. He tried to get me to stay, but I insisted and he finally let me go to work.

But when I got there, Madame Ames met me at the door.

"Your services will no longer be required here." She said coldly.

"What?"

"You heard me, now go on." She said and closed the door in my face. And with that I stormed off. First her husband tries to violate me then they fire me. Perfect!

I went back to the broken house. Erik looked up from his paper.

"Back so soon?"

I threw myself down into a chair. "They fired me." I said bluntly.

"What!"

"Yes, you heard right, they fired me." Once again Erik got that angry look in his eyes. And I didn't blame him. I was angry too.

I wanted so badly to break something. But I didn't. I held my temper.

My mind was racing. It did so every now and then. And I didn't like it. Things flashed through my brain creating a slide show of all the images I didn't want to remember.

My father. Me shooting him. Erik tied up. Monsieur Ames. "No! Stop it! You're hurting me!" Me crying. The policemen surrounding me. The jail cell.

I couldn't stop it. Erik realized what was happening and he began to sing his lullaby.

"Erik…" I finally managed to talk normally.

"Ma biche…"

So now I was out of a job. We had to do something for money but we couldn't decide what.

"What if you sold your drawings?" Erik asked. My drawings? I hadn't thought of that.

"Do you think they are good enough?" I said looking up from one drawing I was working at the moment.

"Is the sky blue? Is the grass green? Of course they are good enough." I looked back to the woman who was staring up at me from the paper.

"Well, I guess we could try it." I said, not really believing that my art would sell at all.

But I was wrong.

Within an hour of me setting up my artwork to sell, several people stopped to see what I had to offer. And they ended up buying a drawing. I was selling them cheap because I didn't want to seem like an extortionist but as the days wore on and my art became more in demand I raised the prices.

Of course, now that I was selling my art, I had to work harder. Both in drawing and in coming up with ideas to draw.

At one point, I had made enough to buy some oil paints, brushes, and a bit of canvas.

And my first oil painting went very well. It was gone within minutes of me putting it up.

Of course, all of this boosted my ego a lot. But I wasn't arrogant about it. It just made me feel good that my artwork was appreciated.

It happened one day, I was selling my art, as usual, when a man in a suit came up to me.

"You're Miss Roxanne?" He said.

My name wasn't popular everywhere, but it was known around this part of downtown. But I still didn't know why this man in a suit was addressing me.

Then I had a terrible thought. What if they had traced me from France? What if they knew who I was? What if they knew I killed my father?

Annnnd that's it! Sorry it's so short and lame!