Giry soon went to sleep but I stayed up to heal my back in the best way possible. I went into the bathroom to take a bath. The bathroom was plain and run down but it was better than anything I've had before so it would do. It did have a large mirror giving me complete access on what my horrendous body.

At some point, the right side of my face was the only disgusting part of my body. No longer. My body was covered in thousands of lumpy scars. It was as if my deformity had spread to the rest of my body.

Not being able to stand the sight of myself, I quickly lowered myself into the tub, letting the cool water heal and comfort my deformed skin. After enjoy the water for a few minutes, I grabbed a towel and began to scrub my body clean. It was difficult and painful: my body was awfully sensitive around my scars which were pretty much all around my body.

After a long time of cleaning, I removed myself from the bath as clean as I could possibly be. The same could not about the water. The water could barely be recognized as water fore it was filled with dirt and blood to make a disgusting color of reddish brown. I stared at the water as I slipped back on my disgusting pair of pants.

As always, I destroyed something pure, clean and good. In attempt to to clean my unclean-able skin, I destroyed something that did no wrong. I had to wonder if the same would happen to my Christine. Would I destroy her like I destroy everything else?

Coming out of the bathroom, I was still contemplating my decision on keeping the child. I loved her but I could quite possibly destroy her. I sat down on the chair and stayed within my own mind, mulling it over.

…

Apparently, I fell asleep at some point and was woken up by Giry around noon.

"Wake up, Monsieur de Fantóme."

"So the rumors continue."

"People believe what they want to believe. You left quite an impression in the few months you lived in the sewer below the opera. People still believe in the Phantom."

"Did you do what I said, Giry?" I said ignoring her

She threw a brown parcel at me in response. I opened it to find clean clothes and a leather white mask for me and a simple but pretty, light blue dress for Christine. There was also a thick dark blue coat, a little bigger than Christine's size but it would last her a long time.

"And here's the rest of the money for that composition."

She handed me a decent size of money, enough to buy groceries for the week.

I looked over at the couch expecting to see Christine there, but she was not.

"Where's Christine?"

"Outside with Meg. They're playing in the snow."

"Tell her to come inside this instant. I will not have that girl outside without a coat."

"She doesn't know. Just warning you. You might want to tell her while she's sitting down."

"Go get the girl."

As Giry went to fetch Christine as I dressed in the clean clothes. It felt wonderful being in something that wasn't covered in blood. I had barely put on the leather white mask when Christine came in. She was smiling but I could tell she was freezing cold.

"Christine. I bought you a few things."

I pointed to the pile of clothes. She gasped.

"They're so pretty."

"Go put them on."

I left the room and Christine change into her new outfit. I thought about how I was going to handle the situation. I for one, while feeling terrible for the girl, thought it was a bittersweet gift from fate that her father had been murdered. Yes, I know that that sounds awful to say, but it was true. I was fated to be with Christine. I would raise her. But I was pretty sure that telling a young girl that her father had been murdered and that it's a good thing because a creepy masked man was now able to care for her was such a good idea.

Especially if I told her all of my plans for her which, outloud, sounded creepy and disturbing. To be honest with myself, I was already planning to marry the girl. Love came quick with me. I had never loved something before and I wanted her to be by my side always. Always. Of course by the time she reaches the marrying age, about 17-21, I would be an old man. Being about 29 at the moment I would be in my 40's by the time I would be able to marry her. It was almost better this way. We would have a few simple years of marriage before I would die and then she can go of, as a wealthy young woman, and marry someone else if she wished.

For the time being I would just focus on raising the girl. I would forget my plans for the time being.

The problem still remained: how do I break the poor girl's heart by telling her that her father was no more?

"What do you think, monsieur Erik?" A sweet, precious voice cooed.

I turned to see a little curly haired angel wearing a light blue dress standing in front of me. She was beautiful. Blue suited her well. The dress had large sleeves and a large ribbon around the middle. There were many white petticoats beneath the main fabric. Her little black mary jane shoes shown the reflection of herself they were so clean. Her chocolate curls were now neatly brushed and pulled out of her face with a white bow. Her winter coat was a deep navy blue with cute little tassels on the edges.

"You look wonderful, little ange."

"Thank you, monsieur." She said, blushing. "I've never had such a beautiful dress. And this coat is so warm."

"No need for a thank you, young mademoiselle. Just go outside and have fun."

It is a wonderful thing to watch a young child play in the snow. While most saw snow as something that could kill, children saw it as beauty and fun. It was rather fascinating to me. I always hated snow: it's cold touch and unforgiving nature was not something I enjoyed in a cage. But looking at Christine playing made me rethink my opinion. When well covered up and inside, snow was rather beautiful. The world blanketed in white. Snowflakes falling like fairy dust onto Christine's long eyelashes. The sunlight sparkling against the landscape. It was beautiful.

I put off telling her the truth for most of the day, all while getting dirty looks from Madame Giry.

"You can't just pretend nothing happened. You have to tell her at some point." she would whisper to me as I prepared dinner that night.

"I can if it means that the young girl can enjoy her first day with her under my care."

But of course, brief moments of happiness never last. Eventually the sun began to set and I would have to tell the girl what has happened.

I made a vow to myself that I would not tell her until she asked me about it. I didn't want to be the one to bring up the horrid and depressing subject. But alas it was unavoidable.

I was putting Christine to bed when she finally brought up her father…

"Monsieur...you are so kind…" She said, her precious little voice like a church bell's chime.

"I wish to make you happy, little ange."

"I hate to ask...I feel like I already know the answer…" Her large eyes filled with large, wet tears. "But...is...is my father in heaven?"

I stared at the floor for a short while, unable to look at the girl with her eyes filled with such sadness and loneliness, and thought. I had prepared what I would say to her in this situation, but in that moment I had forgotten all of it.

"Yes, child." I said, still staring at the floor. "Your father is dead. I am so sorry."

Oh how she weeped! I couldn't bare to stand her sadness! It was my duty to make her smile and be merry but her tears were unbearable. Oh my little Christine...how I hated breaking your heart in such a way.

"Hush…" I tried to make my voice steady, for I was crying as well, as I took the girl into my arms,. "I know it must be hard...you are sad...and lost...and confused. But I will keep you safe...I will keep you close...just keep looking for happiness and sunlight...rain makes the flowers grow, you know. Beauty and light will come out of this. I promise."

I spent the night holding the young girl as she cried as she cried into my chest. I did the best I could to comfort the young child. I told her stories. Sang to her. Held her close. I did all that I could to. I gave what I could give to the young girl: I gave her all the love that I could offer.