"MOMMY! NO!!" That was the last thing I said to my mom before she died, saving my life. Her last words to me were "Christine, the Angel of Music will always be with you and watch over you and protect you… even when I'm not…. He…her..." she couldn't even finish her sentence. After that, just held my mother's upper body, more like cradled it in my arms. I kept saying to myself "Her mother promised the Angel of Music… her mother promised her…. Her mother promised her… her mother promised her."….. I didn't even get to say goodbye... or I love you….

That was 10 years ago. I was 6 years old when she died, saving me. She pushed me out of the way of a moving carriage, while I chased after my ball. Now I live with my best friend, Meg Giry and her mother, Madame Giry, the Ballet teacher at the opera house, which we live in. And also mine and Meg's Ballet teacher.

I love Madame Giry as if she was my own mother and I love Meg as if she were the sister. But it's that I don't miss my own mother, I do, I miss her every day and night. And I don't really remember my father because he died when I was very young. My mother never spoke about him.

But still, I don't remember much after that. So, my mom was always important to me. When she had died, I was crushed. I had no one in the world, so I thank Madame Giry to take me under her wing. My mother had promised once I reached a certain age, my angel of music would come to me to become my singing tutor. Well, he hasn't come yet, but I have a feeling he will come. Soon enough, I will be under his protecting gaze.

But until then, I'll have to continue in my ballet training and listen to the awful singing or screeching in some cases, of Carlotta Gudicelli. The over confident, who thinks she's is the best singer that comes from 'Espaina' as she says in her thick Catalan accent. Oh well, we all have to suffer at some time or another, right?

After a grueling day of dancing and listening to Carlotta's screeching, we went back to the dormitories, and I plopped on my bed with a thud. After a few minutes of silence, I began to drift on and off into sleep.

Then I heard it. "Christine, Christine, Chrrriiiissstttiine…" a ghostly voice breathed.

I cocked my head up so fast, that I had nearly become dizzy.

"Hello?" I asked hoarsely. I got no response. I waited for a few brief, silent minutes, but still no response.

I thought I was dreaming then, so I laid my head back onto my pillow. I began to slip back into the world of dreams, when I heard the ghostly voice again, this time it was louder.

"Christine, Christine, Chrrriiiissstttiine…!" The voice was so gentle and soothing, it almost made me want to fall asleep again. But I was so curious, I got out of my bed to look in the hallway to see if it was coming from out there. There was a light chuckle behind me. I spun around so fast that I lost my balance, and I landed on my backside with a small thud. I felt my face becoming flushed, but I don't know why.

"It's not like anyone was in here to see me." I said to myself aloud.

Another chuckle, "That's where you are wrong, my dear." A velvety voice said.

I gasped. "Wh-who's there?" I stammered, "Reveal yourself at once!" I demanded, though, I still sounded like a frightened child. Again, it was laughing. I was beginning to become annoyed, for it seemed like it was mocking me.

"Are you mocking me?" I asked as stern as I could.

"No, no, my child. I apologize if I have offended you in anyway."The apparition said to me, this mysterious voice entrancing me, word by word.

"O-oh!" I said quietly, " It's okay. Don't worry, please. I'm sorry, I am just tired, it was a long day." I said meekly. I couldn't believe I was talking to someone or something that may or may not exist. I felt foolish, and yet, I felt very comfortable talking to "it".

A quiet, melodious laugh rang through my room. "I know, my dear. If I too, had to listen to "La Carlotta's" voice any longer today, I would be as tired as you. If M. Laroux could just hear her the way you and me can, you would have her place in a heartbeat."

"What do you mean by I would have her place?" I asked, very puzzled.

I have let no one hear me sing since my mother died. I could not bring myself up to sing, because it was my mother's and I favorite pass time. We would sing to each other and with each other for hours on end. But when she died, that part of me died too. Nobody in the Opera House knows that I sing, if I do, it is usually in the comfort of my room.

"Oh, have you not heard yourself sing?" he exclaimed, "You have the voice of an angel! I am truly mesmerized every time you sing. My, child, you truly have a gift." He finished sweetly.

"Why thank you." I said quietly. I have never been complimented like that before.

I heard a it breath a rather large sigh. "I think it is time for you to go to sleep."

I yawned. "I'm not really all that tired." I said with a stretch. I meandered back to my bed, my eyes nearly closing as I sat down on my lumpy mattress. I just didn't want my ghostly friend to leave quite yet, I had so many questions.

"Sleep, my girl. I promise you, I will not leave you." the voice said, as if it could see my fear of it leaving in my mind.

"My ask you a question?" I asked as I crawled into bed, pulling my blankets up.

"Of course." he said.

"Are you...?" I had trouble asking because I wanted it to be true, "Are you my Angel of Music?"

A moment of silence passed again. "Yes." It simply said. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I have one more. Are you a it, or a man?" I asked sheepishly.

His melodious laugh rang again. " I am a 'he'." he said.

"Thought so." I murmured. As I was falling asleep, he started to sing a sweet lullaby. 'Oh my!' I thought excitedly to myself, 'He truly is my Angel of Music! Only an angel could have a voice like his.'

Without even realizing it, I whispered "Goodnight."

"Good night, sleep well. Your Angel will always be here."