Chapter I

Strange Voices

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please!" Nicolaus Vandyke, our maestro, screeched irritably. "Can we please continue on without the chattering in the back? Chorus, I'd believe that would be you...please remain silent!" Monsieur Vandyke hesitated a moment, his face was red and sweat shined off his brows. Once he regained his composure, he lifted his baton. From there, I stopped listening to what he was saying. Instead, I strained to hear what Madame Lauralai was instructing us to do.

"Remember to stay loose and do not tense up. The audience can tell if it looks like work. Your movements have to look effortless, and so does your face..." Madame Lauralai had that stern look on her face to show her concern and authority, "Miss Watson, I expect to see no straining expression on your face during our performance. If one of us messes up, it would appear as if we all messed up. Let's keep this clean." The girl whom she was talking to blushed and looked down. Her name was Milly Watson. She came from England and often had a bit of trouble keeping her face relaxed while she danced. We all struggled with at least one small detail in our dancing. Mine was keeping my mind off other things. At times, it was hard for me to concentrate on the dancing, and I would find myself thinking about one thing or another. This would often lead to me accidently bumping into another chorus girl, or I would forget what part of the dance we were at, which would throw us all off. "Keep your mind here, Miss White," Madame Lauralai would often snap at me.

I don't like to blame other things for my mishaps because that shows irresponsibility, but lately, I've been hearing and seeing things that are all too distracting. I can't really explain it without someone thinking I'm mad, but there were often times I thought that someone in the shadows was watching me while I danced, and I'd hear a voice calling to me, correcting me, whispering to me. It was all so strange. I once asked Madison Eckoff, a friend of mine who also danced in the chorus, if she had heard anything during our rehearsals. She looked at me with a grin and thought I was joking around with her. When I told her I was serious, she looked at me with an expression of worry and confusion. "Rose," she'd say, "are you feeling all right?" After that, I decided to keep to myself about the strange voice.

I wasn't neccesarily frightened of the voice or the shadow which lingered. I never have been afraid of those uncertainties. My grandmother, who used to be the ballet instructor at the opera house, told me of a phantom who used to live in the opera house. She told me that everyone feared him, for no one knew what he was, but she knew what and who he was. "He lived in solitude in the deepest part of ze opera house," she told me. "He knew nothing of remorse for his actions, and the only love he knew was that of his music and Christine Daae." She refused to tell me more about him, but she did tell me that she knew him when they were both very young. If my grandmother didn't fear a phantom, neither would I.

Rehearsals ended after six grisly hours, and all the chorus girls were back in their dormitories cleaning up. I spotted Vashti Gallagner gossipping with her putrid little friends in the corner of the room. Vashti glanced in my direction and gave a fake, vile grin, then quickly turned back to her friends and began whispering. I loathed Vashti, and I knew she hated me too. It was an on-going battle that took place between us everyday, competing for positions or argueing over rumors that she starts about me, and I always have to confront her about it and straighten everything up. Normally, fatuous rumors don't faze me, but when she spreads a rumor about me sleeping with the director so I can get a good part in the opera, I get pretty livid. Usually, though, I try to keep my head low. I don't like too much attention, especially when it's negative attention.

"I heard that Christopher is taking lessons now from a voice teacher," Madison said to me in a hushed voice, so no one but Milly and I could hear her. Milly was our mutual friend. We included her in just about all our conversations and everything else we did. Milly was a nice girl, but no one really wanted to hang around her thinking they'd get a bad name just because Milly can't dance as well as the rest of us. But Madison and I took her in because we felt sorry for her, and as it turns out, Milly is really useful to have around. Since no one pays any attention to Milly, they all talk about private things in front of her, thinking that Milly's a nobody and who would she tell if she had no friends? So Milly knows a lot of information about almost everyone. She tells us things she thinks we ought to know, but if it's just gossip, she keeps it to herself. No one wants to be labeled a dispersing pighead.

"Christopher sings?" I questioned. Christopher, who belted out songs way out of tune (purposely of course), and who hardly ever took anything very seriously. Even his dancing wasn't very serious to him, although he was the second best male dancer we had.

"Apparently," Madison said as she climbed into her bed, and pulled the covers up to her chest. "I'm not really surprised. I've heard him talking about how great it'd be to actually be noticed for your great talent instead of being seen as a group all the time."

"Well I hope that he doesn't ditch us once he becomes an opera singer," I almost spat, trying not to think bitterly of what might happen if Christopher betrayed us for a job.

Christopher was another one of our friends in the chorus. He was always the one to lighten up a drowsy day. Which I often needed when Vashti was a problem.

"Goodnight, ladies," I heard from the doorway across the room. Candles were blown out throughout the room, and whispers started to die down. I lay in bed on my side, looking at the wall across from me, which had a window that looked to the outside of the opera house. It was completely black outside with few stars from what I could see.

I wasn't the least bit tired, and I don't think I would have been able to fall asleep if it weren't for the music playing softly in the back of my head. It was a sweet sound. My mind began to drift off, and before long, I found myself asleep, dreaming of a man that I've never seen before...yet somehow, he seemed familiar...