This is my first story. As you can probably tell, I'm new to the fan fiction world :) Reviews and advice are highly appreciated. Enjoy!


CHAPTER ONE (Meg's POV)

"Give me the gun, Meg," he says with an air of authority in his voice. If
we were in different circumstances, I probably would've noticed the distress and pleading in his voice. But no. He has given me nothing. Not even a moment of gratitude. Is this the thanks I will ever get? Nothing can change my decision now.

I press the gun at my temples and feel the cold steel beckoning me to pull the trigger and end all the pain.

"Give me the hurt, and the pain, and the gun, Meg." His voice is more urgent now. "Give me the chance to see you clear at last."

"See me clear at last," I whisper to myself. I close my eyes and imagine the life I had always wanted to lead. All the emotions I had kept for all the distressing years rush to me and show up as glittering drops rolling down my cheeks.

"Diamonds never sparkle bright if they aren't set just right. Beauty sometimes goes unseen." At hearing this, I begin to doubt my decision. Slowly, I start to lower the gun, believing every word he is saying and letting all the walls of defense that I have ever built cautiously fall until the gun is now down, only inches away from his reach. "We can't all be like Christine."

"Christine?" I hear my voice crack. "Always Christine!" I hear my every frustration for the past days in a single choking sentence.

Suddenly, I am shaking too much for me to bear and my finger slides to the trigger.

Erik holds me, one hand on my shoulder and the other trying to take the gun away from me. For the first time, I see fear in his eyes. I notice that he is not looking at me. Nor is he looking at Christine. I follow his gaze and realize that His eyes are trained on Gustave. Him and only him.

This is your only chance, I say to myself. I pull the trigger expecting myself to feel the tug of excruciating pain seconds later, but hear the gunshot and realize that it is not pointed at me, but pointed at Erik.

He frees me of the gun and I drop to the cold ground, shaking with sobs. He staggers down beside me and frantically tries to tend his wound.

"Erik!" I hear Christine scream. She falls to his side, trying to see where he had been shot. "I'm here, angel." she says, a tear rolling down her cheek. I see him hold her hand, trying so much to endure the pain. "Gustave, stay here. I will get help," she cries, as she desperately runs to find help, any help, trying to be strong for her son.

I feel Mother's arms wrap around me giving me the warmth I didn't notice I needed. "My little Meg." she manages to say in between her cries of relief for my safety.

At this point, I question all that I have ever done to be where I am now. What if we had never went to Calais in the first place? What if mother had listened to me and we had never helped the great opera ghost? I suddenly realize that in my mind, it all boils down to one question. What if all those years of toil and tears had been for nothing?

I hear my sobs become louder now, and I try to stop. I have tried to hide all that I have felt for the past 10 years and yet in this one moment, they could not be kept any longer.

In an instant, I feel a wave of cold emptiness as the dark finally envelops me and I lose consciousness.