My Forever and Always (The Phantom of The Opera)

Chapter 21- Familiar Ties

Author's Note: This story has reached 1.5K Reads!!!!!!!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!

OHMYGOSH YOU GUYS CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME!

I have on multiple occasions considered giving up on this story for good because of the lack of reads and how it almost felt like a personal diary to me rather than an actual published story. But the milestone of 1.5K encourages me to give this story its deserved justice, and I'd do that for sure! I have no one to thank but my dear readers. 

I am truly grateful to each and every reader on this story. Your interest in my story is what keeps me going. I treasure every single comment, vote and read that you guys have left. So, my dear readers, thank you so much! I don't know if I would have still been here if it weren't for you. Even though no one in my life knows that I actually write on wattpad, this is a victory that I cherish and celebrate. Since, I have no one to share it with in person, I share this joy with you all, my readers.

Life isn't always great but I find my escape through this story and its characters. I sincerely hope I could bring some joy to your life with my writing. Again, thank you once more for sticking through. Love y'all!!

Clarissa's POV

"Pfft, it's a lame ass Opera Singer. She was the Soprano at Opera Populaire that we visited yesterday. Christine Daae."

"What?"

"What."

"Did you just say Christine Daae, are you pranking me?"

"First of all, I don't even know who this Christine chick is. I heard her name from dad. Also, I understand if you are disappointed. Seriously Operas are the most boring thing in the world. I'd rather see a documentary on pebbles than sit through a three-hour Opera. Geez, so much for a celebrity in the family." Clayton said in a bored tone.

No, this can't be for real. Clayton's words weren't registering in my head. It was as if my mind went numb. My mom moved besides me, dusting off an old box. I blankly walk to my dad and shocked him by standing very close to his face.

"Whoa, what happened Clary? You're looking for something?"

"Hey dad, I think Christine Daae is a fictional character from the book The Phantom of The Opera. What have you read in that ancestral journal? Is it for real?"

"Christine Daae is a character? Well, that could be a pure coincidence. Because she was a very real person who lived in this very house. If we trace back the family tree, she is basically your great grandmother."

Dad shuffled around with some old yellowish papers, rustic leather-bound books and photo frames. He then showed me an old document that was the ownership paper of the Manor. 'The Chagny House' was signed to a Vicomte Raoul de Chagny in the year 1876. Years later in 1885 the owner Viscount Chagny wrote off half of all his properties including the house to his wife, Christine Daae. There were several newspaper articles framed of the marvellous Soprano Christine Daae and her prestige as a vocalist in various shows across Europe. There were more records in the journals. A generation down the line the Chagnys move to The United States for business, settling there for good and taking over the title 'Emerson'. There were records of various cousins, brothers and sisters in the lineage from different generations moving away to different places, marrying off to different families and taking different names. What remains of the many original Chagny properties is the Manor itself.

My mom called for me to hold some things for her. As she shifted things, she uncovers a dusty book and opens its disintegrating covers to read. The spine of the book was stitched but the thread barely kept up. Almost all of the yellow pages came loose. From what I saw, someone had scribbled up all the pages in French, in the old cursive writing.

My mom went straight to the first page. It had a name on it, of its owner and writer. "Viscountess Christine de Chagny"

I think I'm going to puke. I took the book stating my curiosity and excused myself. Clayton called back, "Wow, you are really interested in the gibberish that Christine could have written? Look here, these are photos from hunting our ancestors went to."

I glanced over and saw Clay holding a dark and worn photo of three aristocratic men holding guns around the carcass of a dead dear. Eww, singing Opera sounds like a more interesting task than that.

I go straight to my room and carefully set down Christine's diary on my desk. I clutched my sapphire pendant tightly. All of it finally made sense. The sense of familiarity and warmth every time Christine was around. The certain resemblance in our features I could make out in our faces even though Christine was just a child. But what could all of this mean? Was there a reason that I could travel back?

Then it occurred to me. Back in the Opera House, the two times that my pendant glowed, it was when Christine was closely hugging me. And then the last time, the pendant glowed by itself, leading me to the present time. Whatever this could mean for me, something in my head told me that the answers can be found in the old diary that sat on my desk.

I got into work mode. I opened a translator in my laptop and grabbed a French to English dictionary. While I could speak modern French, I wasn't sure what to expect in the diary. Christine had written a lot of things in the diary. Some were of her mundane tasks. Some were accounts of her experience of travelling for concerts. She wrote mostly about her emotions, the important people in her life and brief notes on certain events. She spoke fondly of her husband, Raoul. She wrote about some other people I didn't recognise. She wrote about Meg and Madame Giry. In one of the pages, I found my name and felt sad when I read how she missed me. But I discovered some disturbing things. Christine had nightmares and jumped at the sound of organ. She hated looking at roses and freaked out at silhouettes of men in very dark clothes. It was almost like PTSD, from the most scary and traumatic incidence in her life. My heart dropped when I realised what this was about.

Coming up next: Erik POV