This is my very first fanfiction. All comments are welcome, positve and negative. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Shoutout goes to angeliastar for giving me the kick start I needed. I hope y'all like it.


Prologue

My mother dropped me off at the Opera Populaire, never intending to return and retrieve me. At 6 years old, I was an orphan. My father had died of sickness when I was a baby, and my mother had just abandoned me. I was completely and utterly alone.

I wandered around the operahouse, hiding in the shadows whenever I saw someone for fear of being reprimanded and thrown out in the cold. While I walked into what looked like a dressing room, I heard voices. Quickly, without any other place to hide, I backed into a curtain, letting it hide me from their eyes. At first, I thought the curtain shrouded a window, but it didn't.

It hid a secret tunnel.

Unsure of what to do and too afraid to come out of my hiding place, I slowly crept down the tunnel. It wasn't long before I came upon a set of spiral steps, leading deeper into the depths of the operahouse. I slowly made my way down, taking tentative steps. When I finally reached the bottom, I came across a lake.

I was looking at the water when I heard a voice and a slosh in the water. "Who goes there?"

Afraid of being caught by someone, even a boy who sounded only a little older than me, I tried to find a place to go other than the wide open space I was already in. Seeing nothing, I threw my self to the cold stone floor, covering my eyes. If I couldn't see him, he couldn't see me.

Please go away, please go away, please go away... I pleaded in my head at the boy. He didn't hear.

"Who are you?" he asked me as he came closer to me. "How did you find me?"

"I-I didn't mean t-to. I w-was just hiding..." I stuttered, starting to cry as I looked up at him. He looked intimidating with a white mask covering the right side of his face. I guessed him to be about 8 years old. He looked like he had a hard life, dealing with abuse. I worked up the courage to say more. "Please don't tell on me..." I began trembling in fear.

The boy saw that I was scared and tried to calm me. "It's alright. I won't tell on you. You're safe here."

I looked up at him through teary eyes and sniffed, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "So you're not gonna throw me out?"

He shook his head. "No, of course not." He sat beside me. "So what is a girl like you doing in a place like this? Are you a new ballet girl?"

"Oh, no. I don't have a dancer's bone in my body." I told him of how my mom left me there. As I told him, his eyes slowly started to burn with anger.

"How could someone abandon their child when there is nothing wrong with them?" he shouted, the anger-filled statement, echoing through the emptiness. His sudden outburst startled me, a small whimper escaping me. He heard me, his face softening from angry to apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just don't understand. How could your father allow this?"

I looked down at my hands, my voice bitter. "My father died when I was a baby, so I doubt he could do anything."

"Oh, I'm sorry." the boy said. "I didn't realize..."

"It's alright." We sat in an awkward silence, until I gathered the courage to ask him something. "Why do you wear a mask?"

He turned his face away from me, giving a humorless laugh. "Because what lies underneath is grotesque and disgusting."

"Oh." More awkward silence. "Surely it can't be that bad."

"Trust me, it is. All my life, people have either laughed at me or run away screaming. My own mother called me a demon." he said sadly.

I felt a pang of pity for the boy, as well as hatred towards the people who ever made fun of him. "Well, can I see for myself if you are? Which I don't think you are. A demon would never show mercy to a girl like me."

He scooted away from me a few inches. "You'll just be scared and run away. I can't take any more of that."

I scooted closer to him. "I swear I won't." I said as I crossed my heart. "And if I do, I will leave and you will never see me again."

The boy looked at me skeptically, then sighed. "Alright." he said as he reached up and pulled his mask off.

I was expecting worse than what I saw. "It's definitely not what I expected. It's actually-"

"I knew I shouldn't have shown you." he interrupted, turning his face away from me. "Now you despise me."

I turned him to where we were facing each other. "You didn't let me finish. I was saying that it is better than what you made it out to be."

A shocked look passed over his face. "So, you don't think I'm a monster?"

"The only monsters there are in this world are the people who can't see past appearances and make it seem as if looks are everything. I, of all people, know that's not the case."

"How could you know?" he spat. "Your face isn't deformed."

With a sudden boldness, I stood up and started unbuttoning the back of my dress. He gasped. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you." I stated as I undid the last button, revealing my marred back.

There was silence, then a soft touch along one of the scars. "How did this happen?"

"My mother beat me, then she sold me as a whipping girl for a Vicomte's child last year. They gave me back because I wouldn't scream."

"I am so sorry. No one such as you should have to endure that. Do they still hurt?" the boy asked as he touched another scar.

"No, they don't." I stepped forward and fastened my dress. "Sorry you had to see that. I just didn't want you to think you were alone."

"Now I don't." he said as he extended his hand towards me. "I'm Erik."

I took his hand. "Sabrina."

"Sabrina," he repeated softly.

There was another silence, but this one wasn't awkward. "So does this mean that we're friends?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I guess it does."

I smiled. "I can live with that."