A/N: Look! I have returned from the land of the dead with a new story! Okay, so I'd like to make a few things clear first. No, I have not forgotten about my other stories. I am merely taking a break from them to write this one. I would also like to say that this is my first fanfic like this, so don't be too harsh with the reviews. I mean, I'll read flames, but I won't listen to them. Anyway, so you're probably wondering what this story is about. Well, here it is:

Christine Daaé and her father have move to the small town of West Falls, Maine so that Gustave can teach at a liberal arts college near there. Everything is going fine, until Christine begins to feel as if she is constantly being watched. Things begin to go downhill, finally ending up with Christine becoming a social outcast marked as a lunatic. She soon finds happiness and acceptance in the arms of another outcast, Erik Destler. Will she finally be able to find her peace of mind, or will she forever be her stalker's Snow White Queen? Now, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. :(

Chapter 1

How had she come to this? How had she changed so much from the little girl she once was? How, and why, had she allowed herself to drift into this place that held only morbid thoughts, bountiful fears, and darkness? Why was this happening to her?

These were the questions that ran through Christine's mind every morning when she woke up and every night before she drifted off into a fitful sleep. These questions haunted her, creeping up when she didn't want them to. It was like a meddlesome ghost that wouldn't disappear until it was fully satisfied that the person it was haunting was completely terrified. Unfortunately, it was working.

Sighing heavily, Christine rolled out of bed and groaned as she landed unceremoniously on the floor, causing the floor to protest with a loud thudding noise followed by a rather creepy creaking noise. Standing up and rubbing her back, Christine mumbled, "I swear, the floor sinks down more every day." Smiling slightly, she straightened out her covers before turning to her window with a grimace on her face.

Her windows held no cheer, unlike the windows of other girls her age. Other windows in the neighborhood sported cute stickers, lace, and other safe and pretty things. You could not even see past Christine's windows. Five weeks ago, she had discarded her pretty butterfly yellow curtains and replaced them with dark black and scarlet curtains that vanquished any sunlight that tried to creep into the room. She had removed everything that had once clung to her windows and had hidden them safe away in a drawer that she never looked in any more.

With halting steps, Christine approached her formidable windows. It was not the window itself she was scared of, rather what was outside the window. Not the cheerful people who walked by each day, but a presence that only she could sense. A presence that was completely taking over her life.

Breathing in deeply, Christine reached out and flicked one of the curtains away from the window. As soon as she did, she felt it hit her, harder than ever before. Gasping, she released the curtain, staggering back as the black and scarlet velvet fluttered back into place.

Any other person would not have felt the intense force. However, Christine was different. She had felt those eyes watching her for months now, ever since she had arrived in West Falls. Christine always felt like someone was sucking the breath out of her every time she felt those eyes on her. Today was different, though. Today, it was even stronger. Christine shuddered as she thought of the only reason why this would happen.

"You're getting closer," she whispered, curling into a ball on her bed and glaring at the window. "Certainly closer than you were before." Her brown, doe eyes flashed with a prey-like fear as she imagined those eyes, slowly drawing closer and closer, until...

Christine shook her head violently to clear the thought, tossing her brown curls viciously. In an attempt to snuff out her fear, she sneered at the window and snarled, "Better watch out. If you get too close, you just might get caught." Even though her words sounded confident, Christine was shaking on the inside. She knew that whoever was out there would probably never get caught.

Christine jumped and stifled a squeal as she heard somebody knock on her door. She studied it fearfully, not sure what to expect. She actually had to stop herself from laughing when she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

"Christine!" Gustave Daaé called to his daughter, his tone slightly exasperated. However, his voice betrayed the smile that had to be on his face. "You need to hurry, Little Lotte! If you don't get out the door in exactly ten minutes, you are definitely going to be late!"

Christine's playful smile was immediately wiped off her face at those dreadful words. School, she thought forlornly, standing up and moving over to her stuffed closet. School had become one of the places that she hated the most. It was another place for those eyes to follow her. To make it worse, kids at school noticed how she acted, and constantly made fun of her for it. Just yesterday, she had been banished from her lunch table for being too jumpy and high strung. Today, it would just be her.

Christine sighed as she pulled on her baby blue sweater and dark blue jeans. She remembered a time when she hadn't been like this. When she had first moved here, at the beginning of the school year, everybody had liked her and wanted to be her friend. She was always nice to everyone, and knew how to turn a person's day around. She was what was considered "The Queen of Popularity." Christine hadn't minded being well-liked, but she hated the term. It made her feel like one of those snobby girls on TV that bossed everyone around.

Pulling on her white sneakers, Christine snorted. "Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore, now do you, Chrissy?" she asked herself bitterly, tossing books into her bag and running a brush through her hair. No, now people called her different names. 'Freak', 'weirdo', 'twitcy', and other such crude terms were hurled at her daily. Her popularity had disappeared like the morning mist, and it was all his fault.

Sighing sadly, Christine finished getting ready and rushed downstairs. She found her father in the kitchen, sipping coffee and all dressed for work. Christine smiled as she came up behind him and kissed his head, straightening his tie with the violins on it. Her father was a violin teacher, and she was extremely proud of him. It was because of her father that she had pursued a career in singing. She hated to think that it was all going down the drain now, but she forced the thoughts out of her head as she fixed herself a quick cup of coffee.

"Chris…" Gustave said, looking at his daughter with concern in his eyes. "Are you sure that you want to go to school? I can fix up something else for you, you know. It isn't fair, the way people treat you." His eyes clearly showed his fury and sadness that people teased his daughter about her condition. He didn't know what was going on with Christine, but he knew that he wouldn't let anybody hurt her with rude remarks.

Christine frowned and shook her head. "I'm all right, Daddy, I promise," she said, averting her eyes from him as she spoke. "School isn't so bad. It's getting better, really." She couldn't hide the tremble in her voice as she forced out the last lie.

Gustave simply shook his head, stood up, and walked over to his daughter. Kissing her forehead gently, he said, "All right, Little Lotte, but if I hear about any trouble, I will take care of it promptly and in my own way. Now, I have to go, or my students will not let me live it down for being late!" With a smile and a final kiss, Gustave flew out the door, into his worn down Station Wagon, and drove off to the liberal arts college where he taught at.

Christine watched him leave, waiting until he was just a small speck in the distance before finally gathering her things and heading out to her own midnight blue SUV. Slinging her backpack into the passenger side, she crawled into the driver's side and stuck the key in the ignition. She was about to start the car when something stopped her dead in her tracks.

Those eyes. They were watching her again. She could feel them, scrutinizing her every move. Quickly, Christine jerked her head both ways, gasping and cowering in her seat when she saw a flash of black off to her right dive into the forest near her house. However, she saw nothing else, making her believe it was all a part of her imagination, or, at the very worst, a bird.

Breathing heavily, Christine relaxed back into her seat. Grabbing the keys, she swiftly started the engine, checking all her mirrors in the process. "Stupide esprit superstitieux," she grumbled, backing out of her driveway in a flurry, and pushing the speed limit as she sped off to the torture chamber that she called school.

A/N: So? Like, hate, what? Don't forget to review and tell me what you think. Also, I would like to mention that this story is partly based on Evanescence's song, "Snow White Queen." By the way, Christine said, "Stupid superstitious mind" in French.