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It had originally started out as a joke. A stupid girlish joke. She hadn’t actually expected anything to happen! It all started when Meg had teased Christine for her fear of the phantom, (which was a very good fear, if to have any fear at all) and had bet her favorite sun hat that Christine would not be able to write a letter to the infamous ghost. Christine’s eyes widen at the terrifying prospect- what if he were to actually respond? What if it were to upset him and she were to cease existing! Oh, it was simply the most terrifying idea! However, Meg’s hat was very gorgeous, and the blue ribbon did bring out her eyes. Besides, Meg's feverish giggles and teasing made her feel sick.
“Fine!”
“Fine?” Meg asked through tears of laughter, “Whatever do you mean?”
“I will write a letter,” Christine turned away from her, walking over to the desk to retrieve the stationary set “and I will tell you what, it will be the most beautiful letter!” Meg didn’t believe her, she continued laughing as she walked away from Christine, returning to her room for the night.
Christine had lost track of time since she had begun writing. Really, the only difference now was that the once full candle had now diminished to half of its height and her wrist was aching. It was all worth it though. She lifted up the page, now filled with words that would make even the most talented authors speechless. When Christine opened the desk drawer once more, she placed back the extra paper and fetched out an envelope to place the letter in. Then, using her finest penmanship, she wrote on the front of the envelope:
To Monsieur Opera Ghost
She laughed at herself as she began to stand up, sealing the envelope and pushing in the desk chair. As she reached for the chamberstick, she clutched the letter close to her chest, careful to not get any of the ink on her nightgown. She walked down the halls of the girl's dormitories, and she approached Meg’s door. Then, began to knock. Once, twice, and then it became a rapid knocking.
“What?” Meg opened the door in such a hurry, causing loose strands of hair to fly out from the sudden burst of wind.
“I wanted to show you my letter to Monsieur Ghost, and I would like your hat.” Christine had a wide smile on her face as she held out the letter as proof.
“You do realize you must deliver the letter to him, right?” all color drained from Christine’s face as Meg said that.
“...what?”
“You’d think I’d give you my best hat just for writing a letter? Why anyone can do that!” Meg yawned as she explained, “No, you, my friend, must also deliver it to him too if you want my hat.”
“But how will I-”
“Goodnight Christine.” Meg gently closed the door on Christine, leaving her baffled. Suddenly, every small creek and bump had been made apparent. Would she really have to go all the way to that horrifying box 5? The one of which if you look fast enough, you’ll see glowing eyes? Maybe the hat is not worth it after all. But, the letter. It was such a beautiful letter, and she was tired of Meg and all the other girls teasing her for her skittish nature. She bit her lip as she looked down the hallway, on one end, a comfy bed, safe from the fears that seem to engulf the opera house at night. On the other end, is a seemingly endless maze that leads to a haunted box…and a lovely hat. Christine took a deep breath and stuck out the chamberstick to light her way.
As Christine made her way through the daunting opera house, (had the angels always looked so fearful?) she began to contemplate her decision. What would happen? How stupid it would look if someone were to find her letter, but then it would show Meg that she had actually delivered her letter. But what if it was gone? What if someone had taken her letter and would then use it to humiliate her for the rest of her life? What if he were to take it? That was the goal, was it not?
Slowly approaching box 5, she pushes the letter to her lips, still thinking about what to do. Perhaps it was because she was tired, or perhaps it was because she had forgotten her fears for just that moment, but she bent down and glided the small letter underneath the door. She swears that the air grew cold at that moment and whatever bravery she had was now gone. She rushed down the stairs, through the hallways, and back up into the girl's dormitory. She caught her breath as she felt more comfortable now, still being wary of every movement. Then, the worst most terrible thing happened! The candle went out. She knew that the candle was low when she was writing the letter, but low enough to go out? She now had no light except for the moonlight, which wasn’t helpful. Behind her, she heard a wooshing noise.
“H-hello?” she turned her head back and forth, hoping (or rather not-) to see someone. At that moment, she heard a floorboard creak and she let out a high-pitched shriek as she dropped the chamberstick and scampered down the hallway to her room. She slammed the door so hard, that she feared that she might have chipped it. That night, Christine did catch a wink of sleep, the fear of the ghost consuming her.
A knock came early that morning, and Christine was disturbed from what little slumber she had to answer her door.
“Yes?” Christine open the door softly. It was Madame Giry; the director of the ballet corps and Christine’s beloved (and terrifying) instructor. The look on her face was something of both fear and shame.
“I don’t know what you have done-” she stated in a clear voice, handing her a small envelope. She turned away from Christine, and began walking loudly as a way to inform the other girls she was there. Some of the other girls peaked out to see what cause such a disturbance early in the morning. Christine was afraid to look down at her hands. She had both heard and seen the terrifying letters that the managers seemed to receive every day. And now here she was standing with one. Maybe- she thinks to herself, maybe it is my letter and Madame Giry is just returning to me, that’s all it is! I’m sure I am just being ridiculo- she was in fact not being ridiculous as the envelope she was holding in her hand was most certainly not the one she had dropped off only a few hours earlier. On it, in fine penmanship, it said her name.
To Mademoiselle Christine Daaé
The other girls must’ve seen it too, as whispers began to fill the hallway up and down. Christine looks up to where the whispers are coming from and closes to door to her room. As Christine sits on her bed, she can feel the tears forming in her eyes. See? Just as stated! A hat wasn’t worth this! It was only a joke! She had only wanted to prove Meg wrong! Now surely, she was going to die. She braced herself for whatever terrible words lay within the letter. She carefully took it out from the envelope and unfolded the letter, she was shaking so hard she feared she may drop it. She began reading the letter and oh. This is… not what she thought at all.
To Mademoiselle Christine Daaé,
The letter you wrote me was of some of the finest writing I have seen. While I do appreciate the letter, I must ask you not to scream so late into the night as it disturbs the performers. I hope I am able to welcome your letters in the future.
O.G.
Her face feels hot as she pulls the letter close to her chest, hugging it almost. She stands up quickly, She must show this to Meg! As she pulls open her door, 4 girls fall into her room along with a glass.
“Christine!” they all stand up at once and begin to bombard her with questions. She politely smiles as she is so tired and still has so much adrenaline running through her that she hardly can understand a word they are saying. She gently pushes past them and sees Meg standing out of her doorway, trying to see what all of the fuss is about.
“My hat please,” Christine holds out the letter with pride. Meg snatches the letter from her hand, turning away from her to read it. She looks at Christine, then the letter, and then Christine again. Her brows furrow into confusion as she hands the letter back to her. Turning back into her room, Meg comes out not a moment later with her beautiful sun hat. Christine takes it with perhaps a bit too much eagerness and heads back to her room to get ready for the day.
Christine emerged from her room later that day, dawning her new fabulous hat. She smiles at Meg who still has a confused look on her face.
“Christine?”
“Yes?” She responded as she approached Meg.
“Is it really? I mean, did you truly get the phantom to respond?” Meg was hesitant, almost testing every word out before saying it. Christine nodded her head and smiled.
“He is very polite, don’t you agree?” Meg didn’t respond.
“The hat looks very nice on you Christine. It does bring out your eyes.” He agreed with Meg as he watched the two girls talk a while longer, hoping to receive another one of her letters soon.