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...My name	By : larch Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 3899 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-...My name
- 2-Two
- 3-three
- 4-Four
- 5-five
- 6-six
- 7-seven
- 8-eight
- 9-nine
- 2
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- 4
‘Dear Diary,
Just as I was closing you a few hours ago, the strangest thing happened. And all this time I thought Meg had an invisible friend.
Let me start over.
I was closing you and I heard the most out of place sound for a tiny room with just me and you in it: a sneeze.
I turned and looked all around. No one was there, so I yelled.
No answer.
"I know you’re there! I’ll have these wall torn down if you don’t answer me!"
And then, he answered. I never knew he existed. He sounded so absolutely desperate and sad, it reminded me of a pigeon with its wing broken that just cooed and cooed for some extra food. "Please don’t. Don’t tell anyone I’m here, I’ll do anything. I swear it!"
"Who are you?"
"You can’t tell?"
"You’re the Phantom, aren’t you?"
"I am." He sounded ashamed at this.
"I never thought you were real." Truthfully, I thought whoever was being a ‘phantom’ and playing tricks on people would be a bit more proud of himself."
"Don’t tell anyone, I’ll do anything."
"Anything?" I’m not greedy, but I am lonely, you know that.
"Anything at all. Anything you ask, just please, don’t—"
"Will you talk to me?"
There was no answer.
"Get back here!" I yelled.
"Why do you want to talk? Why me?"
"Well, no one will talk to me, Meg will, but she’s always so busy. I just want a friend to chat with."
"No!"
"Why?"
"I don’t want any friends! I don’t want anybody! I can’t give anyone anything. I don’t want anyone coming near me!"
"Why not?" I asked, finally getting up from the bed. In doing so I knocked the hairbrush to the floor with my skirts.
I bent down to grab the blasted thing and the next thing I knew my skirt had caught on part of the decorated frame of the mirror.
"What now?" I asked, poking at the skirt after I set the hairbrush back on the bed.
I pulled the skirt off, but when I did, part of the mirror frame moved! The mirror swung open, I managed to ducked out of the way, and stood up.
It was a doI haI had never know this part about my room. I dashed in to where the door lead, there was that man behind there, backing away, he was so frightened.
There was a stairway that lead to my room in that dark place. I grabbed his wrist before he backed away so much he toppled down them.
The mirror had sung open fully and was now closing. We were suddenly in pitch darkness.
I let out a tiny scream, I’ve always been afraid of the dark. I lost it slightly and pulled ‘The phantom’ closer.
He let out a tiny scream as well, and then fainted. I never knew men could faint. He was so light in my arms. I realized his wrist was so small, he must have been half-starving.
What’s a well bred woman to do in this situation. I can’t leave him, stranger or not.
I felt around the mirror and found a similar switch and opened it. I took him into the room, thankful that I had locked my room.
I set him down, leaning against the wall.
Light as he may be, I couldn’t carry him very far.
He woke up, panting from fear. He looked like he was trying to melt into the wall. He was rather tall and skinny like the young boy who cleaned the opera house after hours. Was the infamous Phantom just another homeless street urchin? He wore a fashionable men’s suit, it was a bit big on his skinny body, especially considering it was made for an upper-class man and how much differently built upper-class men are, like Raoul.
He wore a plain white mask over his face, the black ribbons disappearing into his long black hair he tied in a ponytail.
"Don’t hurt me!" he said.
"What’s your name?" I asked him.
"What?"
"I won’t do anything. I won’t tell anybody, if you talk with me. I just want a friend."
"I don’t. Who wants anything to do with me? I’m hideous."
"Who wants anything to do with me? I’m a woman."
He seemed to consider that for a while,
"What’s your name, monsieur?"
"Why?"
"I told you, I want to talk, I can’t call you phantom."
"I used to be called Erik, a long time ago."
"Erik—"
"Don’t touch me!"
"I won’t. Don’t worry."
"Why aren’t you afraid?"
"Because you are."
"I don’t understand."
"You’re so afraid, yourself. Who could be afraid of you?"
"Anyone who’s seen my face."
I must admit, I has always been curious, what was so horrible behind the phantom’s mask? Most could not be certain, and no one could ever agree.
"My name’s Christine Daae," I told him.
"You really don’t want to hurt me?"
"I don’t care."
"My mask—"
"Keep it for now. I don’t mind. Will you just talk to me?"
"I have nothing to say."
"Will you listen?"
"No one’s ever wanted to talk to me."
"No one cares about either of us," I said. It was a joke, I was trying to keep him from crying, he looked so distraught.
"You’re luckier" he said.
"He cried some, and we talked the rest of the time until he was so exhausted he could barely get back home, wherever that was. He left through the mirror. I’m locking you and hiding you in a safer place, I don’t want anyone else going through that mirror.’
* * * * *
"So that’s how they really met?" Hase asked, sorting through the antiques.
"She got her skirt caught and opened the mirror. He had a nervous breakdown and they became the weirdest of friends," Sidhe said. "Hey, a 1943 penny."
"As well as an old Japanese mask, I’d say twelfth century. Do you know how much all this would sell for if we took care of it?"
"Thank God our ancestors were such mindless packrats!" What’s this?"
"They called them chamberpots."
"Eeeew!"
"What about Raoul?"
"What about who? Oh, him. He’s mentioned throughout most of this, let’s see," Sidhe said flipping through the old Diary. Here, ‘Today it snowed another six inches. As I was walking to the Opera House with my lunch I met up with someone I had almostgottgotten. Strange, in ten years I still recognized him. It was Raoul de Chagney.
I remember when I was twelve and I was at the beach. My scarf blew away and a boy a few years old then I was ran into the surf and got it for me. He looked so different. Not only grown up, but he was one of those heavy, strapping, large men, no longer a little boy. I find it strange that he recognized me, only to court me. I wanted to be friends again, know what happened to him, but he didn’t care.
"My lunch went missing that day, I’ll bet one of the urchins who cleans the floor took it, or maybe the opera cat.’"
"This still doesn’t explain the swords."
"I’m not done reading this. Damn, this is a large Dairy. I wonder how many years it took to fill this up."
"I wonder why you care."
"I wonder why everyone has to hurt the poor fellow when they thinks he’s romantic."
"What?"
"Susan Kay and a few others."
"WHAT?"
"You’ve read the original, right?"
"Part of it, I fell asleep on page three."
"Everyone in that book is frightening. They’ve all got such bizarre disorders. Erik seemed Necrophillic."
"Ick."
"Susan Key, now her version of the Phantom was a definite pedophile. And everyone does nothing but whine in all the books I’ve read. And those hooters are just NOT possible in that one by—"
"WHEN did you read this?"
"Remember Doreen?"
"Didn’t she lock you in her bathroom, and threaten to jump out the window of a five story building and claim ghosts were terrorizing her cats."
"Well, it get boring when you’re hostage to a nutjob. She kept all her romance books in there. And, oddly enough, she left a large lunch in there."
"How bored were you."
"She had thirty-three ceiling tiles on the ceiling, one thousand and ninety seven on the floor, and she put three holes in the door with a gun and one with a chair."
"You have the weirdest dates."
"Is there something about me that attracts weirdoes? I’m just a regular guy who works in advertising?"
"Didn’t Doreen try and light your car on fire?"
"No, that was Sasha. She was an illegal alien and tried to set ME on fire in the car when I refused to Marry her, so she could stay here."
"Maybe it’s your tie."
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...My name