~She Listened

(The Phantom Of The Opera)

She pressed the diamond ring back into my hand, and walked away, hurrying to catch up with Raoul, wbo was now to be her husband, the position that I had so longed to hold. She stepped onto the boat and held onto Raoul for support as he rowed further and further away from me to bring Christine to safety, when Christine would have nothing to fear, had he not gotten involved. But now it is all lost, there's nothing to do. No one would ever listen to me, love me, despite the appearance

underneath my mask.

I'd never showed anyone my face before. When my mother first saw it, she pushed me away with force, screaming in utter terror. She sent me away and I was on my own for all of my life. I heard Christine's voice and I knew I'd never be alone again. I knew that I couldn't be alone because we shared something that was undeniable. I, the composer and she the lovely Soprano…we were supposed to be in love. I was so in love with her and I didn't see myself ever changing that. When we first met, she heard my voice when no one else could. She looked at my face unflinchingly. She understood my pain,

or so I thought.

So now, I stood alone in my home, in the distance I can hear the panicked people of the theater and police trying to hunt me down. If they find me they will kill me, but at this point it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't matter because I lost the only person who I wanted to be alive for.

I thought she heard me.

I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of finding me, and doing what me what they will. I didn't want to give up. I wanted to die, but I didn't want it to be at the hands of people who would have wanted me dead even if I hadn't murdered so many of the people of the Opera Populaire, something that I think I will always, always regret. These people would kill me just because of what they saw underneath, no matter what music I composed for them, I would be killed.

I had to run.

As I heard the mob coming closer to me, closer to capturing their prey, I ran. I glanced one more time at Christine…oh, Christine! And Raoul, in the distance. So small that I couldn't even make out their shape or recognize the color and texture of Christine's honey scented hair. I breathed, and whispered the goodbye that I didn't get to give her when she left me so abruptly. Her kiss still lingered on my lips,

And I stung.

I ran to one of my secret passageways. This one leads to a secret exit of the theater underground. I pulled the lever and the mirror slid up. Immediately, I ran. I ran so fast that my tongue threatened to become too dry and break away. My shirt was soaked, My heart was beating so hard that I thought it would burst through my chest and I would die right there. I didn't know where I would go once I got out of the theater.

I didn't care.

I knew that this would most likely be the end for me. The end of every thing. I would find away to end it all and then I'd be numb. I'd be numb and I'd never think about the shape of her nose or her deep brown eyes or they way she closed her eyes and turned her head when she was under the spell of the intricate sounds of the swelling orchestra.

I would forget. I would forget.

I was halfway to the exit. I could feel the air getting cooler and less cramped and I let out a sigh of relief of my escape. My feet ached so bad, my legs threatened to break or fall out from under me. I didn't know if I could run any longer.

I stopped, I took a break.

"Stop! You there! Erik? Is that you?" A voice called from behind me. It was a woman's voice, but not the woman who I'd hoped for. I turned around to see a small girl. She ran to me before I can answer and when she saw my face, she did not flinch.

Her hair is golden and her lips are small and pink. Her eyes are brown – or green, or both. I suspect that they change colors…always a surprise. She is still in costume from the opera, her makeup is running down her face and she's sweating just as bad as I am.

She is beautiful.

She is the young dancer, Meg Giry.

"I knew that it was you." She said, she took my hand, hers so soft and small in comparison to mine. I try to move my hand away, but she takes it again. "You need not be afraid of me. You're safe. I'm glad I found you, I was…so very worried."

"What reason, Miss Giry, do you have to be worried for me, Erik? Have you seen the terror of this face? Surely you can't be blind to it. No one else is. They all want me dead. That is what I shall be. Now, set me free."

She didn't.

She held onto me as if her life depended on it. "Erik. Please. Stay with me. Let me share with you something I've never shared with anyone. My mother, Madame Giry, she's the only one who knows about it."

I stayed still as she took off her shoe to reveal her foot.

If I were any other person, a person who lived without pain, a person who didn't know disfigurement, who didn't ache with wishing I was in a different body, I would cringe. I would turn my face away or let out a cry.

Meg was missing one of her toes.

"Meg…I…." I gasp.

"I know, it's awful, isn't it?"

"But you are a dancer, how can you dance without your second toe? It must be such a terrible ordeal."

She looks down at it and a tear slides down her cheek. "Before, I was such a wonderful dancer. My mother made sure she taught me everything she knew. She told me I would be someday, more than just an obscure chorus girl. And then…the year before last, I lost my toe in…that accident. I'm still apart of the dancing, but have you noticed how they hardly give me any parts? How I am made to do ridiculous motions behind all of the other girls?"

I paused. No, I had not noticed, because the only person I could see was Christine. The only one I heard was Christine. I didn't hear Meg's cries of desperation.

Christine. She consumed my life. My life had been, unlived.

"Erik I feel nothing but the deepest affection for you." She says. "Because I know you know how I feel. I know. I also, know how much you love Christine."

"Meg—"

"Erik. I'm going to get you to safety and then, if you see fit, I'd like to get to know you in the way Christine never allowed herself fully." She touchedmy face. The ruined side, where no one would ever dare to get close to.

"In what way is that, Meg?"

"Please, call me Megan."

"Megan?"

"Through your music." She said. I touched her cheek, and ran my finger over her lips.

"…May I?" I asked. She nodded. I moved closer to her and closed my eyes. Her lips met mine, and I couldn't breathe for a minute. I thought to myself, that Megan could be everything that I never got in my life. Love.

Christine never actually heard my cries. She never heard my anguish and need for her love.

Megan Giry, she was the one. She was the one that always knew.