I know this isn't a new post, but I wasn't entirely satisfied with the former product and so decided to revamp it. I'm not really sure how to explain this ... It's just a couple of monologues written for various Phantom characters after they see Erik's obituary in the L'Epoque. I like to think it provides a nice insight into their feelings regarding the Opera ghost and their relationships to him. Reviews are appreciated, but by no means manditory. Thanks for reading! :)

In Retrospect : Raoul

Bravo, Monsieur

Setting : Three weeks after Christine and Raoul's departure from the house by the lake, an obituary appeared in the L'Epoque. Christine has returned to the Opera on a mysterious errand, telling Raoul to wait for her on the roof, near the statue of Apollo.

Scene : The roof of the Paris Opera House

It is a cold, windy day. The sky hangs overcast, threatening rain, almost as if all of Paris is in mourning . RAOUL, LE VICOMTE DE CHAGNY enters, wearing a long, heavy overcoat and a gray woolen scarf. He is a tall, handsome young man of about 21 with sandy blonde hair, attractive blue eyes and a charming smile. His pleasing face, however, is presently dominated by an expression of sadness and a slight hint of confusion. He walks across the roof, past the statue, and stands at the edge, looking out over the city. There is a long pause before he speaks.

RAOUL : (Pulling a copy of the L'Epoque out of his overcoat and reading out loud.) "'Erik is dead ...'" (A pause. He looks up from the paper and again out to Paris.) "Raoul is alive ..." (He smiles softly.) "Raoul is alive, and Christine is free. Free at last from the prison of your murderous adoration. Free from your pleading eyes, your empty tears, your torture chambers and hypnotic music. No longer will she sit for hours on end in some dark, desolate corner - Her thoughts haunted by your memory. No more will she awaken in the night from some horrible nightmare, or weep inconsolably with fear and uncertainty. Her gentle mind is free to think and dream and love again! My Christine ... has been liberated." (A pause.) "MY Christine. Now she takes MY hand as we walk through the park together. Now it is I who sit beside her in the carriage as we ride through the Bois at night." (His voice softens) "Now it is MY ring that she wears with pride. I saved her. She was standing on the edge, looking out over a chasm at the inevitable life of darkness and fear which awaited her, her little feet poised and waiting to jump. But I reached out and pulled her back towards the light before she could plummit into the horrors below. I grasped her so tightly no outside force could come between us. Not even you ... I won, Monsieur ..." (A long pause. The wind picks up slightly as his expression changes from that of satisfaction to pained confusion.)

"And yet she is distant. Her lovely blue eyes often become clouded over and expressionless. Her hands tremble whenever she moves them to touch my ring, which she still insists upon wearing around her neck. Sometimes I catch her staring out a window, her face pinched taught with apprehension, her gentle mouth turned down slightly at the corners. I see her press her hand to the glass as though she is trying to touch the things outside and she murmurs words I cannot hear. When I ask her what she is thinking, she smiles sadly and says, 'Only of my dear, dead father, Raoul. I say a prayer for him every now and then.' But I know there is something else. She prays for her father's soul every Sunday at Mass, and before supper as well. It is not him whom she thinks of." (Another pause.)

"She doesn't sing anymore, Monsieur. During the first week, I thought it was only because of shock or sadness, and perhaps she simply did not have the heart. But as the days wore on, I would watch her carefully, noting how she fingered through the worn collection of antique music in my library, or how her hand brushed the fine exterior of my brother's piano when she passed it in the hallway. I saw how her lips trembled whenever we walked by the Opera, her longing eyes filling with tears as she pretended it didn't affect her. Even today, as we entered the building together, I watched her chest swell and her fingers nervously clutch the little fur muff I gave her for Christmas. I know she yearns to sing, to let music once again flood her body and bring color to her cheeks. It was her soul ... But she cannot. There is something that stops her. Some outside force that no one, not even I, can control. It has silenced her throat and thus her purest form of expression. She still looks and talks and laughs the same, of course, but she is not. A part of her has died, and I do not think she knows it yet. But I know it. I see it in her eyes. I feel it in her touch. And I know the ghost who haunts her mind ... You won, Monsieur ..."

(He hugs his coat closer to protect himself from the wind.) "She does love me, I have no doubt in my mind that she does. She tells me so nearly every day and for that I truly am grateful. We will be married next month, just the two of us and a witness in a small, private ceremony. And then I will take her away from here and I will make her happy. And she will make me happy. I can't make her forget you, Monsieur, and I won't try to anymore. It is a losing battle ..." (A brief pause. He stares at the paper once more.) "Erik is dead ..." (He smiles ironically) "Erik is dead ...?" (He begins to laugh as he tears the paper to shreds and drops the pieces off the roof, watching them dance mockingly in the wind. Snow starts to fall softly from the sky.) "I won her heart and you won her soul ... Is that how it is always to be, Monsieur ...?" (He waits and stares into the air. After a moment, he appears to have received an answer.) "Then sometimes death changes very little, I suppose." (Suddenly, CHRISTINE appears next to the statue, dressed in a heavy, fur-trimmed cloak and scarf, her face pink from the cold. Her sad blue eyes sparkle with tears of mixed emotions.)

CHRISTINE : "Raoul? I'm ready now. Thank you for waiting." (He moves towards her and hugs her tightly. She does the same. They stand embracing in the snow, letting their feelings go unspoken. Finally, he pulls away and stares into her eyes.)

RAOUL : "I love you. You know that, don't you?"

CHRISTINE : "Yes, Raoul, I do. And I'm glad, for now I know the great importance and immeasurable power of love. We are truly lucky, you and I, to be able to share something so wonderful. It can make all the difference in a person's life." (A pause.) "How could I not have seen that before ...?"

RAOUL : (Softly) "He will forgive you."

CHRISTINE : (Smiling sadly.) "I can only hope." (They kiss, and leave the rooftop hand in hand.)

Fin