Chapter 1

"The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are."

Anonymous

"Where have you been, Miss? Your Papa has been looking all over for you…why, what is that in your hand?" My nurse inquired of me when she found me in the attic.

I looked down once more at the reflection in my hand. All my life I had wondered what it must be like to know what oneself looked like…now I knew. Unable to stop myself I began sobbing uncontrollably. "Why?" I asked her. "Why did no one tell me? You know the truth I know it! Please, Clarissa! I must know!"

"I am not sure I should tell ye…Your father made me promise I never would…"

"Clarissa, it is too late. I know what I look like now…I must know why I wasn't told before…please. You are my truest companion, my one true friend, you simply must tell me the truth of how I became this way."

"Why you were born this way! But yes, miss, I believe it is time you know. I remember the day you were born clear as it was yesterday. The day your father gained a daughter and lost a wife. The doctor and your father stood in wonder at your cradle, unable to bring themselves to even touch you. 'What is it? What is wrong with my baby?' Your mother inquired loud as she was able. But the men only stuttered and stared. Finally I came over to you myself and saw why…I picked you up gentle as I could and said, "Miss you have the most beautiful baby that ever was born!" Then I carefully set in you in her arms…I had been your mother's nurse before I was yours, but never had I seen her as happy as she was then with her baby in her arms.

"The doctor began murmuring to himself, so fast I could hardly understand…He was intrigued by your beauty, never in all his years had he seen anything like you. He paced the room, until finally he said looking at your father, "I have only read about such beauty once…in the story of Helen of Troy." Your father turned pale at the same time as your mother whispered, "Helene, her name must be Helene." So quietly she said it that at first no one noticed. Then you began to cry as your mother's arms went slack. She was weak from the birth pains and had lost a lot of blood. The doctor had been so absorbed in your beauty that he hadn't realized the seriousness of your mother's condition. She was dead before the day was over. But I tell you miss the day you were born, more beautiful than the starry heavens, was the happiest day of your dear mother's life" She said trying desperately to comfort me. I had stopped crying when she began the story but had started anew at the end. I could not be comforted as I swallowed down life's awful truths.

"Why! Why did my father not tell me of this before? Why did he keep up this lie?"

"What lie miss?"

"The lie that everything was normal. That I was normal. When all along everyone knew that I was not. Every one except me… How could he do this to me?"

"That is something you will have to ask him yourself…I have told you all I know."

"I will ask him! Right now!" I stomped out of the room and marched myself to my father's library.

"Helene, my darling, what ever is the matter? You look like you have been crying…" For a moment his genuine concern made me pause my fury. But then I remembered all the lies, all the years that I went around ignorant…and the anger came back more furious than before.

"How could you? How could you never tell me the truth? How could you lie about the reasons why women hate me and men just stare at me? How could you not tell me how I began? How my mother died because of me?"

My father looked shocked. He walked towards me and wiped away the streaming tears from my face.

"You did not cause your mother's death." He said slowly, as if to insure that I understood. "She died because the doctor couldn't stop the bleeding."

"But she might have lived had he not been distracted by my appearance….it is all my fault!"

"It was never your fault. It isn't your fault that you are different and it certainly isn't your fault that your mother died. Can't you see, Helene? All these years I have kept the truth from you so that you could learn a valuable lesson. Physical appearance is a chance of nature, and beauty within is worth more than gold, for inner beauty is forever." He pulled me into his loving embrace, "You are a truly beautiful person, and I am not speaking about just your outer appearance." I pulled away, trying to absorb everything he had just said. Why had it been so important that I learn this way? Could I not learn this lesson if I had known the way I looked? When I asked he said, "Did Clarissa tell you who you were named after?"

"She said I was named after Helen of Troy…but I have never heard of her."

"No, I made sure you wouldn't. Which wasn't easy considering how much you read…" He chuckled, then continued, "Helen of Troy was considered to be half god and the most beautiful woman on the earth. She knew it too. When she was ready to get married, her father had all of her suitors swear that they would always stick together, no matter who she chooses. It may have seen like a good plan, to keep the suitors from killing each other, but Helen's father could not have foreseen the dreadful outcome. Helen chose the Spartan king, but after years of marriage she ran off with a Trojan prince. Because of the oath made when Helen was just a girl, all of Greece had to go up against Troy. The result was a ten year war, and the loss of many lives."

"What happened to Helen?" I asked, scared of the answer.

"The Greeks won the war; Helen went back to her husband."

I couldn't believe his answer, she had brought so much pain and misery. I had to know…"She wasn't punished for the lives that she cost?"

"No one could bring themselves to harm her." He answered me. "She was proud, and she took advantage of people because of the way she looked. I didn't want you to be that way."

"I could never be that way! I am nothing like her! I hate the way I look. I loathe the people who stare at me in wonder. I scorn Helen of Troy and everything she stands for! All I want in life is for people to see me as you do, for the person I am inside…"

"Someday you will find someone who can. For me, it was your mother" He replied with a smile. His eyes got a far off look as he continued, "She saw past what everyone else saw, and feel in love with me. And I saw her, not for as a chorus girl, but as a generous intelligent, and talented young woman. Someday I hope you will find the same."

"But Papa…how can that even be possible? No one can see past eh way I look, not even my friends…"

"What? Meg has never said anything about your looks… And Roaul, he has always been a good friend to you." My father replied with the naiveté only found in parents.

"Meg," I explained with a sigh, "she is nice, and my only girl friend… But she hasn't come to visit since the Mud Incident. And Roaul…he always stares. He tries to be my friend, but my appearance is too much for him. He adores me, and hates anyone else who feels the same. Last night he was the one who started that awful brawl over me!"

"Yes, the ball may not have been a good idea…" Papa conceded.

"May not have been?" I interrupted," Papa it was a disaster! Like a mini Trojan war! What in heaven's name were you thinking? You had to have suspected what would happen!"

"Helene, you must marry someday. You are getting too old for a nurse, and I am getting older too. Someday Clarissa and I will not be here for you always."

"Papa, how can I marry for love, if every man only loves me for my looks?" I asked him, but I could tell by his face that he didn't have an answer for me. I pushed down my feelings of despair and told him, "This," I said pointing to my face, "isn't your fault either. We will figure something out…together!" When his face considerably cheered up, I knew I would have to live up to my words. "Papa, I had better go to my room to think this out. I will come back when I have thought of something."

"Yes, darling. And I will think about this too." He said to me as I left the room.

I had tried to sound optimistic for my father's sake, but I simply was not. I tried to think of a way to test out the love of my suitors. I thought of questions, quizzes, and quests…but what did they have to do with love? Would knowing my favorite color prove that a man love me? Would going to the other side of the world for a trinket prove his love? Or would it simply prove that I am surrounded by determined and foolish men, who want me for the prize? No, the answer I was looking for was not to be found in mere questions or quests.

My father wished to help me…but what could he do? He was right; I needed to have a way to take care of myself someday. I had no family to take me in. And friends wise there was only Roaul and Meg…

Roaul would take me in gladly, always anxious to prove his "undying love". However my feelings toward him are more that of a sister, if anything all I feel for him is pity. He makes me nervous with the way he always stares and listens to every word I say as if it is the most important thing in the world. I do not doubt his infatuation with me, but I cannot bring myself to return it. Nor can I take advantage of his strong feelings for selfish reasons.

Meg was a sweet girl, but I could not depend on her either. She was controlled by Chrissie, and Chrissie hated me from the moment she first saw me. She took one look at me and threw mud in my face, shouting that she hated me. Meg had been a good friend to me, but I suppose Chrissie was a better friend for Meg hasn't come to see me since. I missed her visits terribly; she was my only girl friend, someone who could listen to all my thoughts without thinking me insane. It was almost as if she never noticed my looks…I suppose it was her mother that taught her that way. Madame Giry was fierce and bold and quite, but she never judged people by their rank or station or looks. She had been my mother's mentor; had remained her friend even when all others abandoned her because her marriage to my father. She stayed my friend when my mother died. Madame Giry was an understanding soul despite her fearsome looks, perhaps that is why she is considered to be the messenger for the Opera Ghost… The Opera Ghost, now that was a subject of every discussion between me and Meg. As young girls, we could not help but be intrigued by the mysterious ghost. How I missed those times of talk and play…But now I admit, as a girl of seventeen, I see the ridiculous in it as well. An apparition haunting a Opera house, it doesn't get sillier than that. And yet, many do believe in this make believe person… Perhaps, just perhaps, I had at last found my way to be free.

I could not rely on Roaul, Meg, or even my dear Papa to be my savior. But perhaps I could rely on myself. People were eager to believe in this Phantom, I do believe that it is about time somebody gives them something to believe in.