This is based on "Phantom" by Susan Kay. I do not own any of the
characters, I make no money out of this, it is purely for entertainment, so
please don't sue.
From Erik's point of view.
Mama is sitting on the couch, knitting, and I am watching her. She is not really paying attention to he work. Her eyes are distant, her brows furrowed. She is sad, and it is because of me. She does not want me near her. It upsets her. Once, on my birthday, I begged for a kiss, and she collapsed in tears. I am not loved, and I am not allowed to love.
I said I hated her, but I did not really mean it. I did not mean to make her cry. I hate when she cries, when she runs from me, when she recoils from me. I want to make her happy, make her smile. I go back to my room in the attic.
The little shepherd boy is standing near the window. I took him for the mantel of the fireplace to put him here. He is going to help me make my mother happy again. I hide behind the door and start to sing a low, compelling song. I am skilled enough with ventriloquism now to project my voice at a good distance. I hear soft footsteps drawing nearer, she is coming.
I let my voice float up the stairs, up to the attic. Mama enters the room. I direct my voice to the shepherd boy now. She is smiling at the little shepherd boy. My voice and his looks made that smile shine on her lips.
She is so beautiful when she smiles. She reaches out and takes him in her arms gently, with love. My voice nearly brakes. She never held me like that, and she never will. It's me I want her to hold like that, ME!
I walk to her side discreetly. She does not notice my presence immediately, but after a moment she turns around and sees me. I keep singing, so as not to break the spell. Something flashes in her eyes, and she slowly rises her hand.
I do not stop singing, even though I know that she has seen through the illusion. She slaps me hard across the face. She wants nothing from me. My presence, my voice, my love are abhorrent to her. The only way I have to love her and be loved is to borrow the face of another, to wear yet another mask.
From Erik's point of view.
Mama is sitting on the couch, knitting, and I am watching her. She is not really paying attention to he work. Her eyes are distant, her brows furrowed. She is sad, and it is because of me. She does not want me near her. It upsets her. Once, on my birthday, I begged for a kiss, and she collapsed in tears. I am not loved, and I am not allowed to love.
I said I hated her, but I did not really mean it. I did not mean to make her cry. I hate when she cries, when she runs from me, when she recoils from me. I want to make her happy, make her smile. I go back to my room in the attic.
The little shepherd boy is standing near the window. I took him for the mantel of the fireplace to put him here. He is going to help me make my mother happy again. I hide behind the door and start to sing a low, compelling song. I am skilled enough with ventriloquism now to project my voice at a good distance. I hear soft footsteps drawing nearer, she is coming.
I let my voice float up the stairs, up to the attic. Mama enters the room. I direct my voice to the shepherd boy now. She is smiling at the little shepherd boy. My voice and his looks made that smile shine on her lips.
She is so beautiful when she smiles. She reaches out and takes him in her arms gently, with love. My voice nearly brakes. She never held me like that, and she never will. It's me I want her to hold like that, ME!
I walk to her side discreetly. She does not notice my presence immediately, but after a moment she turns around and sees me. I keep singing, so as not to break the spell. Something flashes in her eyes, and she slowly rises her hand.
I do not stop singing, even though I know that she has seen through the illusion. She slaps me hard across the face. She wants nothing from me. My presence, my voice, my love are abhorrent to her. The only way I have to love her and be loved is to borrow the face of another, to wear yet another mask.
