I sat silently crying my eyes out. Well, it was silent to them. Those three beautiful people. I knew their names – I knew them well. Christine, the beautiful singer with the voice of an angel. Raoul, Christine's fiancé, the rich, pretty-boy that she's supposedly known since she was five or something. There was still no reason, no good excuse for what she did.
Last but not least, there was Erik. My human. My beautiful, beloved human. I've always been there for him; from the time he drew his first breath to now. He's been killing me, lately. Slowly but surely ripping my heart out of my chest then shattering it into a million pieces. I wish I could talk to him, to tell him how in love with him I was. I wanted to sing for him. I wanted to be his prized gem.
I wanted to be Christine.
I wanted Erik to love me instead of her. I was barely breathing – I couldn't breathe. The ache in my chest was too unbearable for my heart to beat or my lungs to draw a breath. If an unseen angel could wish for death, I would be begging for it. I couldn't stand to see Erik hurt like that. I wouldn't be able to survive knowing that I could do nothing about it.
This isn't supposed to happen! Guardian angels are not supposed to fall in love with their humans!
Yet I did. I realized I was in love with Erik a while back, while he was still in his teens. I was silently telling him everyday how much he mattered to me, how much I loved him, how much that, if I were human, I would die for him. I'd sing to him every night – I still do. Even though he can't hear me, see me, sense me or touch me, I still watch over him, keeping him hidden and out of harm's way. I applaud his great ideas, though he has no clue.
Some things, though, are out of my control. I can try and silently persuade him to stay away from certain places and do and not do certain things, but it's ultimately up to him. It wasn't my fault he was locked up in that gypsy camp, but I did get him out.
It was me who encouraged Madame Giry to stay and help him. It was me who did most of the hiding him. It was me who kept him company through the lonely, dark nights. It was me who was right there for him when Christine broke his heart on the roof of the opera house. It was me who was in love with him and would never leave him, yet it was Christine he wanted. It was Christine he loved. He could easily go one living without me, but I would die without him.
And I really wanted to hurt Christine when I looked up. My vision was blurred from all the tears in my eyes, but I could see clearly everything I didn't want to see: Christine hurting my Erik once more. And it was only by a kiss.
I couldn't look. I sat in a corner and waited for it to be all over.