Author's Note: I did this on a whim at school. It's strange when inspiration strikes. Lol!
Tortured Soul
The moment I saw her, my breath seemed to be snatched from my lungs.
Christine held nothing but beauty and the voice she held was beyond angelic. True, there
were a few flaws, but there was nothing that couldn't be fixed with practice. I adored her
from afar, listening to her sing to herself and to the other chorus girls. From Box five I
would watch her dance and practice what few things she had to perform in the opera. I
watched her evolve from the shy young girl into a young woman who gained more
confidence with every kind word her friends would give. Christine wanted so much more
than what she had, something she couldn't get but something that I could give.
I would have Christine, in one way or another. My heart and soul were set on her.
I spoke to her from the mirror, hiding in fear she might reject me. She welcomed me,
frightened at first but slowly warming to the strange voice in her mind. I sang to her,
spoke to her, and told her stories of Persia. She began to call me an angel, her angel of
music; her guardian angel. I adored the names and never left her side. My songs would
soothe her tears and heart ache. My voice would bring joy to her life and her smile
would lighten my dark world. This was the first time I had felt this strange longing for a
female companion. Be it love or compassion, I know Christine returns these strange
feelings.
On day I hope to see her, not from behind this glass prison, but face to face. I
wish to hold her in my arms, to sing with her and not to her. I want her to look at me and
see the man and the angel she had spoken to for months. She has turned to me for
comfort and I to her. Without the mirror as our boundary we could be with each other.
I love Christine. I want to be with her until the last star in the sky dies away with
only last shinning moment.
But I fear this longing, this love I have for this childlike angel. She will no doubt
fear me as well. I am neither the man nor the angel she envisioned. I am a monster, a
creature of the darkness hidden behind a mask of misfortune that covers the scars of my
childhood and the on thing that keeps me from being a human.
I love her and I know she loves me. Will she love me, though this mask hides a
terror that is more than just my hideous face?
Tortured Soul
The moment I saw her, my breath seemed to be snatched from my lungs.
Christine held nothing but beauty and the voice she held was beyond angelic. True, there
were a few flaws, but there was nothing that couldn't be fixed with practice. I adored her
from afar, listening to her sing to herself and to the other chorus girls. From Box five I
would watch her dance and practice what few things she had to perform in the opera. I
watched her evolve from the shy young girl into a young woman who gained more
confidence with every kind word her friends would give. Christine wanted so much more
than what she had, something she couldn't get but something that I could give.
I would have Christine, in one way or another. My heart and soul were set on her.
I spoke to her from the mirror, hiding in fear she might reject me. She welcomed me,
frightened at first but slowly warming to the strange voice in her mind. I sang to her,
spoke to her, and told her stories of Persia. She began to call me an angel, her angel of
music; her guardian angel. I adored the names and never left her side. My songs would
soothe her tears and heart ache. My voice would bring joy to her life and her smile
would lighten my dark world. This was the first time I had felt this strange longing for a
female companion. Be it love or compassion, I know Christine returns these strange
feelings.
On day I hope to see her, not from behind this glass prison, but face to face. I
wish to hold her in my arms, to sing with her and not to her. I want her to look at me and
see the man and the angel she had spoken to for months. She has turned to me for
comfort and I to her. Without the mirror as our boundary we could be with each other.
I love Christine. I want to be with her until the last star in the sky dies away with
only last shinning moment.
But I fear this longing, this love I have for this childlike angel. She will no doubt
fear me as well. I am neither the man nor the angel she envisioned. I am a monster, a
creature of the darkness hidden behind a mask of misfortune that covers the scars of my
childhood and the on thing that keeps me from being a human.
I love her and I know she loves me. Will she love me, though this mask hides a
terror that is more than just my hideous face?