Second Time Through
I sat up in my bed, the satin red sheets sliding against my chest. I could hardly even breathe, at such a nightmare that ate at my very flesh. I was once again in a strange misty layer, with golden candlesticks and strange deformed gargoyles peering out of every corner. But it was just a dream, I told myself half heartedly for it all felt too real.
A strange exhilaration consumed my very being as I discovered painfully what the dream had meant. I loved him. Could I have made the wrong choice before? No, I can't even think of that, it's too late. I chose and had gotten what I deserved. I combed through my red tangled hair as I stole a glance at the large spot beside me, hmm, no one. I climbed out of bed in a silky nightgown that molded against the tips of the hard wooden floor. I took a small match from the mahogany cabinet which was seated at the right side of my bed and lit the pearl white candlestick that was stained with previous uses of wax.
The candlestick reflected against the silver basin at which the candle stood upon. I walked quietly out of the large bedroom into an open corridor. I tiptoed as quietly and carefully as possible not wanting to wake the girls. The wooden floors creaked and moaned every step I took until I reached and opening to a stony hallway to my left. I smoothly slid against the stone imported from some place called Tokyo.
If I had the opportunity, I would travel the world and see everything in every country. But Rauol said it's not lady like of me and I have other promises that are more fitting to hold up to. Had he forgotten the promises we once made, so many years ago? "Anywhere you go let me go to!" He should not worry of me when I am not the one who spends most of my day sopped up in an old English pub spending his days as an alcoholic and gambler at the local horse station. Most of the money is gone in reality, were just barely able to keep up this grand manor.
I slowed to a halt as I reached a long brass door. The knob was made of some fine silver. I reached my hand out to slowly turn the knob when I looked into the reflection of a shadow in my silver candlestick basin. I looked up at the doorknob to confirm these images and suddenly I felt a sly cool hand press against my back.
"Ahhhh!' I screamed unhesitant to make my next move. A tall shadow was there as I turned corner. His position slouched over and helpless. If he did not appear to look like this I would have made some move against him.
"My God Christine it's just me!' said a shrill, weak, druken voice. I forced my next words out unable to speak.
"R-Raoul you scared m-me! Where were you" Part of me filled with anger as the other half danced with fear.
"I was at Freddie's. I came home just a few minutes ago, snuck into the door and heard a noise. I followed it and found you. Funny isn't it." He said breathlessly. I just stared at him in hatred. How could he do this to me! I deserved a better husband, and most importantly my girls deserved a better father. I forced thought of the conclusion I had made early and shook them out as soon as they came. I had chosen and it would just sadden me to think of what might have been.
"You promised you would stop!' I whispered as tears helplessly fell from my eyes. He just stared at me in his drunken condition and smugly laughed.
"Sorry." He answered falsely and gave a shrug. He smoothed his tangled hair back and walked loudly into the bedroom slamming the door. Tears flew from my face as I angrily walked toward the corridor and hallway which held my two daughters who from my husband's careless condition had woken them up.
Sary, my youngest came to me first. She was seven. I named her after the Cambodian fruit which is as sweet as a pear and less acidic than an apple. I found the name completely stunning.
"Mama!" she yelled as I swept her up into my arms kissing her pale forehead. Next was my darling Claudette. She was at the age of nine and very independent. She reminded me of myself at that age wanting to be free of all bonds.
"Mother!" she echoed politly.
"What ever is the matter?" I cooed gently.
"I heard a big boom!" exaggerated Sary. She was always very girly and dramatic. She had such presence though. If she were to speak on word of nonsense everyone would listen and admire her every move. She also had an extraordinary voice. The first time I heard her sing I was blown away by her angelic voice.
"Sary, it was probably just father! You must be realistic." My oldest daughter Claudette responded confidently. What I envied in Claudette was her complete confidence and reassurance. She also had an independent longing as I once did. I miss that.
"Yes my little darlings it was just father." I cooed gently as I led them to their bedroom.
"You must lie down if you would like me to tell you a story!" I reassured vibrantly. In response they both tucked into their warm beds as quickly as possible and became quiet and anxious.
"Once upon a time there lay a large Opera House In the tip of old Paris. In that Opera house there was some concern of what might be a ghost…
"Mama I don't like scary!" Sary stated in a matter of fact sort of way.
"It's not scary." I answered smoothly lying to myself. Not scary to them anyway.
"And there was a woman by the name of La Carlotta who was the star. They were doing a production of a famous opera, when are old manager announced his retirement …" I was interrupted suddenly by a quiet voice.
"Your old manager?" asked Claudette questionably.
"No sorry, I always get into stories like this, well, anyway… he announced he would be giving up his position to Miser André and Miser Firmin. Carlotta was then asked to perform an aria by the name of "Think of Me". Everything went perfect until suddenly a theater background fell on her! They said it was the Opera Ghost. She then refused to perform being the diva she is. I forgot to mention of course the fact that the Vicomte De Changy was there. He looked as if he was heavens above! And Christine remembered him but never thought in a million years he would remember.."
Snores echoed throughout the room. "I suppose that's enough for today" I whispered softly. I left my sitting position at the end of the bed and got up onto my feet. I crept through the corridor and into my large bedroom. There, my husband lay, his eyes shut tight and his teeth ground together. I slipped back into the red satin sheets and as I blew out the candlestick that sat left of my bed on a hickory stand carved by my father, I felt a rush of cold heat sweep me off my feet. Telling that story today, I felt as If I was there.
I broke unto my knees and cried out in anguish "Father, hear my prayers!" I prayed that somehow and in some way I might have a second chance at life. To chose according to my heart, and to know what lies ahead. I prayed and prayed until my knees became numb. How much longer would I have to lie to myself to keep living? I love him. I prayed and prayed until my silent prayers had been swept up into the heavens above, and then I collapsed onto the hard wood floor.