Summary: So much happened before Christine and Raoul dropped in!
Madame Giry's Tale
I watched the carriage pull away from the opera house. I knew I would probably never see Christine Daae again. I knew she would become a great singer. Her talented was just too beautiful and exquisit to waste. As the horse-drawn carriage pulled out of sight, I walked slowly back into the opera house. The opera house was quiet now. The ballet rats had long gone to bed. Although it was almost dawn, the students would be asleep for hours. It had been a horrifying night. I should have been going to bed myself, but I had other matters to attend to.
I made it to Christine's dressing room. Her flowers that her fans had left her were still there. She had forgotten to take them before she left. No matter, there were so many she would never be able to take them all with her, anyway. I made it over to her mirror. Using all my strength, I managed to open it to reveal the secret passage down to the laybrinth.
I had never been done so far in the laybrinth, but I knew I couldn't just turn back. I couldn't just leave him alone. I felt somewhat responsible for what had happened that night. For one thing, it was I who brought Christine as a new student. But that wasn't even the half of the matter. I remembered the whole story as I walked slowly through the catacombs, heading to Erik's layer.
It was over 40 years ago. How long, I can't percisely remember, but I do know that I was a young girl when it started. A young girl and her younger brother.
I don't even know if my little brother had a first name. When he was born, my mother was very secretive about him. I watched from a crack in my bedroom as the nurses took the little bundle of joy from my parents room in a rush. I was confused. My mother had promised me that I could see my new baby brother or sister as soon as he or she was born. But the nurses never came to get me. I sat at my door all night. None of them came to tell me or my older sister, Bernadette, that a new member was in our family.
The next morning, I ran to my mother's room and knocked on the door. I could hear talking behind it, but my mother and father had always told me it was rude to listen in on other people's conversations. I waited until someone answered, hoping it would be my mother. But no, it was her midwife.
"Can I help you, Mlle. Marguerite?" she asked.
"I wish to see my mother," I replied, calmly. I had not yet attended finishing school, but everyone always commented on how polite I was when I spoke.
"I am sorry, Mlle.," the midwife said, "But the madame is seeing no visitors."
"But she'll she me," I said, "I'm her daughter!"
"Not, today, Mlle.," she said, "Your mother just had a baby. She's very tired. Tomorrow, I promise."
"That's what I want to talk to her about!" I said, "I want to see the baby! Do I have a baby brother or a baby sister?"
"Not now, Mlle.!" the midwife said, and before I could retaliate, she slammed the door in my face.
Naturally, I became angry. The help was not suppose to treat their masters this way. Even a small ballet rat who was only seven. I was furious with the woman. I ran to my room and began to have a tantrum. My nanny tried everything in her power to calm me, but this only made me angrier and so began screaming louder, bringing in Bernadette's nanny. I became so angry, some of the nurses came out to help, but nothing could comfort me. Eventually, I tired myself out and fell asleep.
I didn't wake until late that evening. My nanny was watching me from the corner and my supper had been placed on my little table.
"Why am I not eating in the dinning room with my parents and my sister?" I asked.
"Your mother just gave birth to a child, Mlle. Marguerite," she said, "She is too tired to have the entire family together."
But that didn't seem quite right. Where did my father have his dinner? What bothered me was why Bernadette and I couldn't eat together. When I voiced this opinion, my nanny grew very angry with me. She yelled at me to eat my supper. I did not object this time. I ate my entire plate, hoping that if I was a good girl, I could see my new sibling or my mother. But no. After supper, I was given a bath and then put to bed.
The next morning, I awoke early. My nanny was sleeping in her bed in the next room. I tried to go and see my mother, but my door had been locked. My nanny had even locked her door out into the hall. I would have to wait until after breakfast.
But after breakfast, I was dressed into traveling cloths. This confused me greatly. My nanny packed a bag for herself and one for me. She told me we would be going on a trip.
"I don't want to go on a trip," I cried, very loud and demanding, "I want to see my mother and see my new sibling."
But she did not give in. I was not use to not getting my way.
My nanny brought me down into the foyer. Bernadette and her nanny were standing there as well. Both dressed in traveling cloths and carrying a bag. Bernadette was ten and I usually looked to her for answers.
"Where are we going?" I asked her.
"I don't know!" was all she said and she seemed very upset about it, so I kept my mouth shut.
A cab was waiting for us out front. Our nannies handed the bags to the drivers and all four of us took seats in the back. It was a bit cramped, so I sat on my nanny's lap. Bernadette's nanny told the driver to take us to "La Station Internationale".
I don't remember the train station and I don't remember the train. I had fallen asleep during the taxi ride. When I awoke, we were riding in a different taxi. I remember because the smell was different. The last one had a clean, rich smell in it. This one smelled like old cigars. As I stared out the window, I saw the gates of a large wall be opened by a man dressed in a maroon uniform. The taxi pulled in. The building behind the wall was spectacular. Above the door was a name on a gold plate which read l'Ecole de Mme. Dubois pour les Jeunes Dames. I could not read, but I heard Bernadette say "Mme. Dubois School for Young Ladies".
"You girls will be staying here for a while." Bernadette's nanny said.
"But I thought we were too young to start finishing school!" Bernadette exclaimed.
"This is not finishing school." my nanny said, "This is a regular boarding school and the two of you will be staying here for at least a year."
We didn't dare argue. I wanted to, for I didn't know what boarding school was, but Bernadette's face looked gentle and scared. This must not have been a nice place.
We left the taxi and entered the school. Bernadette's nanny left her in a chair next to me and my nanny. I fell asleep in her lap again. The next thing I remembered was my nanny awaking me in my bed, telling me it was time for her to leave. I didn't understand, but she said she would be back to get me when it was safe to come home. I was too groggy to understand or argue. Once I understood, however, it was too late.
I stayed at that school for a year. A year of torture and hatred. I had been use to getting my way. This place was ludicrious. All I wanted was to see my mother and meet my new sibling. They didn't know the story at all. They continously told me that my mother and sibling were dead and that my father had sent me here to stay until I was ready to begin finishing school. But that made no sense. My mother was perfectly fine when I left and so was my new sibling.
At the end of that horrific year, mine and Bernadette's nanny came for us so that we could go home. I was so thrilled. I had asked all my teachers every single day if I could go home, but they would always say "Not today Mlle. Valery." I was so excited about going home, I stayed awake the whole journey.
We reached my familar mansion at the end of the day. I didn't even wait for my nanny or for Bernadette. I rushed right into our house and up the stairs to find my mother in her bedroom.
"Mamma!" I cried as I ran in, "I have missed you so!"
"My darling, Marguerite!" she said, holding me, "I have missed you greatly, my daughter."
"Where is my new brother or sister, Mamma!" I exclaimed, looking up at her, "I wish to meet him or her. You sent me away before I had the chance to!"
My mother was silent. She had a look of panic and fear on her face. She let me go and turned away from me.
"I am sorry, Marguerite," she said, "But your baby brother...he is dead."
"Dead?" I said, "When did he die?"
"Just after he was born!" she said.
"That's not possible!" I said, "I heard him! I heard him cry all day!"
"He died that night, my love." she said, "I am terribly sorry."
"I really wanted a little brother!" I said, starting to cry.
"As did I want a son, my love." she said, crying as well, "But...what we both wanted is not what occured and I am sorry."
My mother dried her eyes and went down the stairs to greet Bernadette. Not a sound of sadness came from downstairs. How could those woman, one of them my eleven-year-old sister, act so happy when there was a tradgedy to endure? I was so upset, I ran into my room and cried into my pillow.
Our mother did not send us back to the boarding school. Bernadette's regular tutor returned. She would stay at the house until she was 13, when she was ready to begin finishing school. I, however, begged my mother to let me continue studying ballet at the Paris Opera House. She agreed in the end and I was sent to begin my life as a ballerina as a ballet rat.
The years passed by rather quickly. Being a ballet rat was harder than I thought. We were awoken very early to stretch and train, but it was nice being around girls my own age. I wrote to my sister and parents daily. My father died of pneumonia when I was nine. I went to his funeral, the last time I would leave the opera house in my youth. It was when I was 16 that the story of my one greatest friend begins.
"Marguerite!" someone called to me in my sleep, "Marguerite, wake up!"
Slowly, I opened my eyes. It was still nighttime. Through the window that was by my bed, I could see the sky was still inky black. Dawn was far away. Sleepily, I rubbed my eyes and sat up to see who was talking to me.
"What do you want, Sarah?" I asked groggily.
"Shh!" she exclaimed, "Look!"
Sarah pointed out the panes of my closed window. She looked very excited about something. I sat up and kneeled on my bed to see outside. By the light of Sarah's candle, I could see a dozen carriages and wagons driving through the streets.
"What is all this?" I asked, not taking my eyes from the traveling brigade.
"A traveling fair!" Sarah excliamed. It was hard for her to whisper when there was so much excitment in her voice. "You know that Mme. Remy will have to let us go!"
Suddenly, there was the sound of someone walking in the corridor outside the door. "Mme. Remy!" we both whispered. I blew out Sarah's candle and we both jumped back into our beds. Sarah's was right next to mine.
We pretended to be asleep as Mme. Remy poked her head into the room. She watched us for a moment, waiting to see if anyone moved. She shut the door a moment later.
"That was close," Sarah whispered.
"Do you really think Mme. Remy will let the ballerinas go to the fair?" I asked.
"Of course! Once the other girls find out, they'll all want to go, too! Not to mention the boys! I bet you Dimitri would love to go to the fair with a beautiful ballet rat like you."
"Sarah!" I exclaimed, feeling myself blush.
"I want silence in here!" Mme. Remy said, opening the door again.
"Sorry, Mme. Remy," Sarah and I said. We covered our heads with our blankets and tried to go back to sleep.
The last thing I thought of as I went to sleep was of the fair coming into the city, and whether Dimitri Giry would want to go with me.