I do not own anything :(

Chapter 2 – My Angel

Christine

Dear Diary,

I have never felt so silly in my life; I cannot believe I am doing this.

Diary keeping! Me! As if privacy is not an issue in this place, now I am actually going to leave my thoughts just sitting around for anyone to read.

And why am doing this? Because Meg has came up with this ridiculous idea. She has just finished reading some novel and the heroine kept a diary or something silly like that so she has decided that we two will start one each. So we are to sit down and write in this for half an hour every day after rehearsals.

So where to begin?

I am Christine Daae.

I am sixteen years old and have lived in the Paris Opera House (a place reigned over by the ever present Phantom of the Opera, a spectre who occupies many of the stories told after the lights are extinguished) since I was six.

Madame Giry who is the Opera's ballet mistress brought me here after my father died; he was a violinist, a fantastic musician. I can still remember sitting on the floor in front of his chair while he played or we sang.

When he died it was as though something inside of me had gone cold.

So now I live in the dormitories of the Opera House training as a dancer.

The dormitories are cosy, each of us have a bed, a little side table and chest of drawers and our beds are separated by curtains giving us all the illusion of privacy.

My dancing is adequate but I am not the best, Meg is a lot better than I am and is always helping me. Singing is my strength.

I do not know whether to write of my singing or not. After all no one knows what I do or where I go during the two hours between dinner and bed time and hopefully they never will.

Well I suppose I had better just be careful where I leave this book lying around and it should be fine – hopefully. I suppose the worst that can happen is that I am thought mad.

So here goes.

I have been receiving singing lessons from the Angel of Music for the past ten years, ever since I came to the Opera.

I was frightened and alone when I first arrived here and had gone to the Opera Chapel in the lower stories of the building to be alone. The Opera was such a busy place - with people coming and going never stopping - and I needed silence and peace.

I sat in the chapel and finally broke down, tears flowing down my face as the sobs shook my body with a force that I have never experienced since.

My father, since I was little, had spoke of the Angel of Music and how he came to those with a gift for singing to guide them in their progress and life. When he became ill he promised me that when he got to heaven he would send the Angel to me. He had been gone a month (a long time for a six year old) and I had never felt the Angel's presence as my father had told me I would.

I continued to sob, forcing out questions between my cries, asking my father why he had not sent the Angel, had I done something wrong, did he not love me anymore?

I was so confused.

Then I heard him.

A voice.

The most beautiful voice that I have ever heard.

He asked me why I was crying.

So I told him.

I told him everything, from my father's death and where we had lived to the angel that my father had promised to send me.

I asked him who he was and where he was. I wanted to see him.

The deep voice answered me softly, "I am your Angel of Music, I am everywhere and I am here to teach you,"

So my lessons began.

I would dance during the day and rehears and at night after dinner I would run through the corridors as fast as my legs could carry me to the chapel for my lessons. And the voice was always there, waiting for me. My lesson quickly became my favourite time of the day. It could never come fast enough.

I felt accepted and free to be myself when I sang for and with my angel. I did not have to pretend to be anything but me and I loved him for that.

My lessons continued through the years very much the same as they began, but as I grew he would make suggestion regarding my studies, telling me what books and papers to read. We talk over what I have read and we even have debates, arguing points of view until one of us gives in.

Last year though things began to change.

It was the first time that I was permitted to attend the annual masked ball.

I was so excited. Meg and I had chosen our costumes and we could not wait to show them of, the dormitories were buzzing with life and excitement - for three of the other girls were also of age to attend.

I ran as fast as I could for my lesson that night. I could not wait to tell my angel of the ball and our costumes. Though I am sure that he knew already, he is, after all, an angel.

My excitement was a living and breathing thing as I entered the dimly lit chapel. I felt as though a thousand candles were burning inside my chest.

We sang and talked the same as with every lesson and then my angel asked me what had me so excited - humouring me I am sure.

I began to tell him, tripping over my word in my haste.

"Meg and I are attending the ball," I prattled on.

"It is so exciting, we have never been allowed to go before, but now that we are of age Madame Giry is allowing us, we have our costumes all ready, they are lovely, from old productions, all we have had to do is alter them a little to fit but they are beautiful and Meg says..." all the time my arms were waving around, crazily gesturing as my excitement searched for a release. My outburst trailed off though as I realized that I was getting no reply. Just as I stopped speaking I heard a sharp intake of breath and then – silence.

I jumped to my feet and ran to the stairs that lead from the chapel, had someone seen me there.

Nothing. Not even a wavering candle to give away the presence of another. Just silence.

I returned to the chapel, I could not feel my angel there with me.

"Angel?" I received no reply.

"Master?" I tried again.

I fell to the floor in a dejected heap, my skirt bellowing about me as I stared at the flame of the one of the candles in front of me.

Where had he gone?

Had I offended him?

What had I said in that short time that would have made him leave? To not talk to me?

I did not know what to do.

Ever since the first night that I have sobbed my heart out in the chapel I had never been alone there. He had always been there, waiting for me.

I sat for I do not know how long, watching the dancing flame of the candle, the questions running through my foggy mind and receiving no answers.

Then I felt him there with me, he had come back, he had not left me.

I composed myself as he began to speak.

I was surprised.

He set before me a choice.

I was not to get involved with any men, but was to concentrate on my studies, be it dancing, singing or academic if I wished to continue under his tuition he could not have me being lax.

I did not understand his reasoning behind this. After all, it had never been a concern before; I had never missed a lesson since they had begun.

But I agreed, I would agree to anything as long as he did not leave me alone. The thought of living a life without him filled me with dread. When no one else had been there for me he had come to me. It would not be worth living if I did not have my time with him to keep me going, to give me something to look forward to.

"Very well Christine." he said in his soft, deep voice. "But, as you are so excited you may attend the ball for one hour."

I thanked him as he excused me, still a little troubled by my angels sudden change in attitude I left the chapel in a daze and made my way slowly to Madame Giry's room, where our dresses where.

What had gone wrong?

I would know everyone who was attending the party so why would he suddenly be concerned about me meeting men.

I puzzled over this as I absent mindedly began to dress. My dress was a deep red colour and had been used in a production before I had even been born and was made of fine, rich material, the wardrobe mistress had found a collection of old trunks in one of the Opera's many basements filled with such costumes. The neck line was a bit lower than I was comfortable with so I had decided to compensate by using a shawl that I had found while raiding the trunks along with the other girls.

It made me appear paler than I usually was, put I put it down to the fact that I always wore light colours. Meg had insisted on the darker colour as she said a bit of mystery could not hurt.

The other girls bustled about the room playing with their hair and tightening corsets, trying to fit into costumes that they had purposely altered too much- each determined to be the slimmest. I do not know why. After all, we are all dancers and thanks to all the constant activity we are all leaner than the average teenager any way. I sighed as I watched them, I had always been small and slight I was happy with it that way. I did not insist on starving myself as some of the girls did - some fainting in rehearsals due to undernourishment. I liked my body the way it was, with all my curves in the right places, and dare a say it – a little flesh covering my bones.

We were all finished soon enough and took our turns in using the floor to ceiling looking glass to make any last minute alteration.

Meg and I giggled as we watched the other girls push each other out of the way with impatience, their actions getting us to the party no faster.

I looked at the clock as we swept out of the room.

I only had an hour.

As I thought of this the incident from the chapel - that I had managed to forget about for a moment - came flooding back.

I still did not understand his reasoning any more as I left Madame Giry's room than I had when I had first left the chapel.

I decided to put it to the back of my mind and enjoy the hour that he had given me.

We entered the hall at the bottom of the Opera's grand staircase.

It was so big that for one night a year it served as a ball room, allowing beverage tables to be placed down each side of the massive hall and the musicians to be seated in the balcony, giving the dancers more than enough room. Massive candelabra glowed around the room keeping it well lit.

Everyone was in good spirits and I was more than aware that the alcohol that was flowing freely was a major reason for this.

Madame Giry pulled us aside before letting us circulate, reminding us to be on our best behaviour and that we were all young ladies now. We all nodded as was expected of us and began to wander around.

After ten minutes we were approached by two of the stage hands. I had never felt comfortable around them and I still do not. They found too many excuses to linger around the stage during rehearsals, watching us, especially if our costumes left little to the imagination.

Meg smiled and fluttered her eyelashes while I pulled by shawl tighter around my chest, we were not in rehearsals now!

I tried to pull her away, taking a grip on her arm and steering her in the direction of her mother.

"Christine, stop it, what are you doing?" she hissed at me, gripping my fingers and prying them from her arm.

"I do not trust them," I told her firmly, not knowing how to voice my opinions, besides my angel had told me no men.

"Oh Christine," she sighed deeply as though talking to a small child "We are at a party you are allowed to be as you want so relax,"

"But I am being as I want to be," I hissed back, annoyed at the attitude that she had taken. I love Meg dearly but she really is a flirt.

"I am being me," I clarified

She looked at me clearly irritated and told me to stop being too serious as she stropped back towards the two men. One of them eyed me closely and grinned at me.

I had had enough, gripping my shawl tightly I pulled it closer to my body and marched purposefully towards Madame Giry.

I told her that I was not feeling very well and I returned to my room.

I changed swiftly into a light blue dress that Madame Giry had bought me for my birthday, glad to be once again back in familiar colours.

I looked at the clock. I still had over half an hour to go.

I decided to make my way to the chapel. If he was not there I could always sit and think.

While making my way their I decided that even with the restrictions that my angel had placed upon me I was not missing anything, the ball tonight seemed like an excuse to get drunk. I shook my head clearing away the image of Meg as she flirted outrageously with the two men.

Once again I entered the chapel, my sanctuary from the world.

I called for my angel, my voice coming very close to breaking, he was there. My heart leapt happily, I asked that we resume my lesson and we began.

Not wanting to discuss what had occurred at the ball I went to make a swift exit but was stopped when my angel asked me about the ball.

So I told him.

Was something wrong with me that I could not view the evening the same way as Meg? Was I really too serious?

I wanted to know.

I was comforted when he assured me that there was nothing wrong with being the way I was.

His voice seemed to wrap around me offering the comfort that I so desperately needed.

I left content.

All of this happened a year ago.

Oh, how so much can change in year.

I continue to attend my lessons but find that the voice that waits for me is not enough for me.

Is it sinful to want my angel to be of flesh and blood?

I want to be held close in his arms.

My feelings just seem to have changed naturally. As a child I was more than satisfied with having my angel's voice and hearing him in the darkness as he coached my voice and instructed me.

But now, now I want to see, to feel and touch.

But that will never happen and it is wicked and wrong for me to think so...

Meg has just told me it is dinner time; I have been writing for well over an hour, I will continue tomorrow.

Hope you like this, and sorry if the repetition from chap 1 annoys you.