A Graveside Discussion
Every night when I was little, you would come to my room and play a song on the violin. Then you would hold my hand and tell me the story of Little Lottie, the girl who let her mind wander. Next, you would look me in the eyes and say, "When I am in Heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you. He will teach you the ways of music and how to truly use and appreciate your amazing gift". I would give you a smile and say, "Yes, Papa". Finally, you would bend down and kiss my cheek. You would get up and leave the room, stopping at the doorframe to say, "Goodnight, my sweet Christine".
Now, though, that no longer happens. Now I am alone, without your music or beautiful smile. I am lost; people keep trying to save me, but no one can—not even Raoul. I smile every time I am with him and he takes away the pain, but only for a short time. He may try and try for as long as he pleases, but he will never fill the void in my heart. Raoul is not the same young man that he was when we were children. I believe that the power has gone to his head and he has forgotten just exactly who he is; however, this in no way lessens my affection and gratefulness toward him. He is the only thing keeping me even remotely sane.
I have met your Angel of Music, Father, and he is nothing like I imagined. While his voice is beyond words and his music is a masterpiece, he scares me and haunts me and won't let me go. I've seen his lair, Father, I've seen his face. You filled my head with these ideas that he would be this kind and loving man, a man of beauty and talent. And while he is talented beyond belief, he is not beautiful; he is vicious, and horrid, and the embodiment of malice. You are the only person I have ever found to be truly, undyingly loving and kind and to say that he is a man is the same as saying that Lucifer is God.
I don't know what to do, Father. It doesn't seem that anything can be done. He is the young boy of my childhood and he is the angel from my dreams. He is sweet, kind, and handsome, yet has nothing to offer me aside from money and titles. He is haunted, sick, and helplessly deformed, yet his music fills my soul and makes me feel alive again. He is a man of the expected and he is a man of mystery. He is the man who comforts me when I am scared, and he is the man who scares me when I am comforted. He told me that he loves me…and I think I love him, too.