CHRISTINE:
The chamber was like an icy cold shower of dread and sorrow over my fragile spine and into the deepest, darkest parts of my bones. Every footstep sent a shiver through my body. The darkness was truly a fearless beast. The dark was like a big bully with a magnifying glass over the sun and I was the puny and most definitely unlucky ant.

The place was so vast that the tiniest sound echoed very distinctly and made me cringe. At first I was in a melancholy trance, but now I am comprehending this like it was a horrible punch to the face. Running seemed like a wonderful option all of a sudden. Did I really want to walk this lonely pit of darkness? No, but what choice did I have. It is where I am destined. Not only those the Phantom seem cold and unfeeling, but so was this horrid place he called…home. Home…I never truly thought it was the Phantom that felt like he had to live here…like this was where he was destined…I can’t think about that, he killed so many and hurt so many… This dungeon was truly made for sadness yet it had an eerie beautifulness that really horrified me. My very life depended on this darkness. At that thought I saw my life flash before my eyes and as fast as it happened, it was over.

The rusted organ that was sitting in the corner started playing a scary tune with absolutely no warning. I terrified yelp jumped out of my mouth and I sank to my knees and let out a small sob. After wiping a few salty tears off I got up and hobbled weakly along. At that moment I realized a horrible thing, that there was no clear escape, which made me want to cry even harder than I did before. I knew then that I wasn’t going to get out of this one, no matter how lucky I was.

PHANTOM:
This is my home and I very well can’t do anything about it. Okay so maybe this place is a disaster and I never planned my sorry life to be like this… Although I really can’t help it. Darkness is not only my ally, but it is my life and light is the enemy that even if you face it for a second, you want to run away in terror.

The amount of screams of fright I’ve heard is unbearable. I have heard so many of those repulsive sound that my mind rings with the echo off them. My face is so different that I feel out of place or more plainly like freak. My best friend is a tiny, good-for-nothing rat for crying out loud!! I never asked for a life like this and I just want a friend…

I am influenced by this putrid and not to mention pitch-black chamber. People say that this is what my soul is made out of, but honestly I am NOT evil. I just lack something that I and only I lack: compassion.  I want to be loved, I want to be cherished and mostly I want to be looked at nicely… In other words I want to be normal. After many minutes of thinking, I hear Christine’s little footsteps and… are those quiet weeps? Right before she is in earshot I mumble one powerful word “compassion”.

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