Well this is my first POTO fanfic,

But I have written a Love Never Dies fanfic.

well this may be a like, five shot, possibly more, but it isn't going to be an EPIC LOVE STORY like you all probably want.

It's just a Christine POV of when she is between the ages of 7-13, when she firsts hears Erik. I just thought it'd be cute.

Thanks as always,

~angelofmusic127617

This was just too much for a 7, almost 8 year old girl. I was standing next to my father's death bed. Just a little girl, crying her eyes out. Madame Giry was standing beside me, she was a longtime friend of my father's, who was the ballet mistress at the Opera Populaire in Paris. Father explained that she was going to take me in as one of the ballet girls, along with her daughter, Meg Giry. I've never met her, but she was my age.

"Christine," He gasped, "When I am in Heaven child, I will send the Angel of Music to you."

I remember the story he used to tell me about the angel of music when I was a bit smaller. He explained that everyone was visited by him, well not everyone. Children who were naughty didn't, but children with good souls were visited by the Angel. That is why young children can play the violin better than that of a forty year old. I never knew if I was visited, but I'd always wondered.

"Goodbye, my child." He sighed.

"No, father no!" I cried.

Madame Giry tugged on my shoulder.

"Christine, child, it's alright."

She held me for a moment, but it didn't seem to last.

A week or so later, after the funeral, I was almost moved in to the Opera Populaire. It was quite exciting, because although I never took a lesson, I loved ballet and being onstage. Madame Giry explained that since Meg and I were the youngest, (by a lot), that we would only be in a few performances a year. Four, at the very most. After all, we still had to be tutored five days a week by a teacher they'd hired for us. Plus, there aren't very many parts for little girls in the operas the Opera Populaire put on. Nevertheless, I still wanted to dance. Even if it meant waiting and not doing it very often.

Just as I was unpacking my things, I felt very depressed. My father, my one friend, was gone. I never danced in my life, how was I going to dance with such talented girls? I was in a new strange place, and what if I was on stage, and I didn't know what to do? What if Meg or the other girls didn't like me? All these thoughts made me very upset, and I sat on my bed and started crying. But only did I do so for five minutes, and then I did what always made me happy. I began to sing. Nothing really at first, but then I sang a tune my father and my old friend Raoul used to sing about Little Lotte, a girl who was visited by the angel. For some reason, it sounded better than I had ever sung in my whole life. Maybe it was the emotion in it at the time. I cupped my face in my hands and sobbed once more. Just then, I heard a male voice, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from.

"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance." The voice sang. It was so beautiful, and it curved with every note.

"Who's there?" I cried. "Angel of Music?" I asked.

No reply.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

It was just my imagination, I thought.

I had finally stopped crying, and started feeling better about things, when I heard the other ballet girls from down the hall. They sounded really nice, and I was excited

I heard a voice behind my shoulder at the door of our dorm room, which was only for Meg and I. (Thankfully, there were over 25 other ballet girls!)

"Is that you, Christine?" A sweet high voice chirped.

I turned around, and petite bubbly blonde in a white tutu ran up to me and gave me a huge hug, jumping up and down.

"Oh nice to meet you! I'm Meg! I am 8 years old! We are going to be BEST FRIENDS! And we'll dance together, and practice, and tell stories and-"

"Meg!" Madame Giry thumped her cane, scaring Meg and I half to death. "Let the poor girl talk!" She giggled.

"Oh right, sorry!" She squealed. "I just get so excited!"

"Oh it's fine. I'm Christine, and I'm seven. But I will turn 8 in a week!" I laughed.

"Oh that's fantastic! Mother, we should have a celebration for her with cake and presents and-"

"Hush, child!" Madame Giry laughed. "I'm sorry to say, Christine, you'll be sleeping here alone, my dear. Meg and I decided that it's just too tiny for the both of you. But Meg and I will be right down the hall. Is that alright?"

"Yes, it's fine." I replied.

"Well, it's time to meet the other ballet girls! They will love you, just like they love me! They really enjoy helping us out, and they just think little girls like us are adorable! Oh, they'll just eat you up!" Meg squealed.

"Well, let's give her some time to get unpacked. My dear, the girls will be in rehearsal, so just come down when you feel like it. You won't be practicing with the girls for a couple of weeks, because I will be giving you private lessons. You are not yet at their level, being as you have never taken a lesson before. Meg and you are not dancing in our next Opera, but you will be soon. As for right now, Meg just practices the combinations for practice, although she isn't going to do them onstage. So take this, and be down in a while, darling."

She handed me a leotard, a tutu, a pair of white tights, and a hair bow. I smiled, and watched as they left my room. It only took me a few minutes to place the remaining dresses and shirts into the dresser by my bed. I sang while I pranced around the room. I just hated silence, in fact, I hated it more than anything.

After about five minutes, I slipped on my ballet outfit, and pulled my long brown curls up in the satin bow. Just before I left, I asked really quietly, and I sang it, only because I believed the only way to communicate with this angel is to sing to him.

"I'm here, your angel of music? I'm here, your angel of music?"

"I will see you later child. Go and practice." He spoke gently.

I was so shocked, I couldn't reply. Instead, I smiled, and ran downstairs.