Paris, France 1890

As I walked down the familiar hallway covered with a burnt red carpet and unlit candles and broken chandeliers I tried to remember what my papa told me about this place.

How it was always bright with candles and lights and how the carpets weren't burned and singed in different places. My papa didn't like me wandering around here for he was afraid that I would get hurt, or that some one would see me. Fortunately no one has been here for at least 20 years.

The previous owners of the building that I live in left after a dangerous and drastic fire burned the building beyond repair and no matter how hard they tried to fix it, they just didn't have the money. Even though the place I have called my home for so long is burned and no one else lives in it like they used to, I am happy because I live with my father who teaches me all of life's lessons.

He even coaches me to sing and to dance, and not to brag or anything, I am really good. Even if I lack balance and grace when I dance. My papa never talks about what he was like during the time before the disaster.

He says it was a horrible time in his life that he never wishes to talk about with anyone. I tried asking my mother but she knows my papa's rules and never goes against him.

My mother was once a ballet dancer and is the one teaching me how to dance. My mother is beautiful and papa says that I look just like her and is lucky for that. I don't know why he's happy that I just look like my mom.

I tried to look at my papa's face before to see what he looks like, but his face is always hidden by a mask, a hood, or just by poor lighting from the few candles we have. My papa is very mysterious and I intend to find out why.