Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Phantom of the Opera. And I receive no monetary gain from this fiction. I also do not own the song this fic is centered around. It is owned by Sony BMG Music Entertainment.

Summary: This is a fic based upon a song that was added to the Phantom of the Opera Soundtrack from 2004. The song is entitled 'Learn To Be Lonely', and is performed by Minnie Driver. The song itself is beautiful, but very sad. I have decided to write a fic about Erik's life based on lyrics from the song. Each chapter will be titled as a lyric from the song and center around that lyric, and will also be wrote as if being written in a journal by Erik himself. Do to ffnet's new rule I cannot post the actual song, but by reading the chapter titles you should get the general gist of it. If you have not heard the song yet I greatly suggest you get the soundtrack or the DVD. I do believe that the song plays during the credits.

This fic is the musings of what might have occurred in Erik's past letting us get a glimpse into what could have made him what he turned out to be in the end. And as it progresses we see what his feelings could have been during his time in the opera house, up until and after his rejection by Christine. This story can also serve as a Prequel for my other Phantom story 'I Sing For You Alone', but both stories can be read on their own without the other to make sense. Just remember it is written in first person POV just as if Erik was writing it himself in a journal.

Chapter 1

Child of the Wilderness

As I sit here in the gloom of night I find myself wondering about my former life with the Gypsies. They had found me at a very young age, wondering blindly through the trees in a forest I had been abandoned in. I was alone and afraid, with tears running down my face. But none of them showed me one ounce of pity or compassion. One of the gypsy women called me Child of the Wilderness, but her husband took one look at my face and named me The Devil's Child. He would become my keeper, and the man I hated most from my childhood.
That childhood (what an ill fitting word-there was no child there) consisted primarily of days spent traveling from town to town 'performing' as the Devil's Child. Had I known they wanted a true performance I would have been only too happy to oblige. But I was so young. All I knew of was the harsh cruelty of my keeper, and the indignity of watching the spectators jeer and laugh at my disfigured face. I knew of long days chained to the back of my keeper's wagon following behind as we traveled from town to town, wearing a cloth bag over my head to keep anyone from seeing this face. I remember eating scraps from the ground with the gypsies' dogs. I remember sleeping under that very same wagon on the cold hard ground whether it was hot or cold with only a few scraps of clothing to protect my small body. I remember times of being sick and only wishing I would die. I never did, and I sometimes wonder why God would let something as pathetic as I continue on in his world.

Life was not completely dark in those days, even if it was harsh. I had my inventions. At night whenever we were not staying in a city, I would be left alone chained by my ankle to my keeper's wagon. The chain was always long which allowed me the freedom of some movement. After they would all go to sleep, I would sneak around the camp and find scraps of material to fashion all kinds of interesting little trinkets from. With the right materials I could copy almost anything I had seen. It did not matter to me at all, that the cruel gypsies would take whatever I made as soon as they discovered it. I remember one item in particular that was very important to me. It was the last thing I made while with the gypsies. It was a simple doll fashioned as a monkey holding cymbals. I took it with me when I left the gypsies. I have it tucked away, where it will be safe for a long time to come.

Life with the gypsies taught me one thing very important, though. It taught me to always depend upon myself. And I learned to defend myself. The night I strangled my keeper from inside my cell was a turning point in my life. I learned I was no longer that defenseless Child of the Wilderness. Maybe I was the Devil's Child, but I was free.

The Devil's Child

Well any and all comments would be appreciated. Do you like the concept? Or should I scrap the whole idea? Oh and I promise the first chapter of Lost Love will be up in a couple of days.