Dirge of Fate

Summary: Erik waited and waited for her to come back. Sweet memories haunted him after she left for Raoul. But he finds out a bitter truth… A short story partly based on The Phantom of the Opera, book or musical.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera— the musical or the 2004 movie

Please review: This is my first fanfiction and I'm a beginner on this kind of work. If you think it's bad, let me know and send me a review so that I'll be able to improve next time I write another one. If you think it's good, thank you, I appreciate it.

Dirge of Fate

Chapter 1

It was the best of times, the worst of times… these words echoed in my mind as I gaze up at the sky savouring the angry drops of rain as it sink through my whole being. As I remain here waiting for any probable event that would come even the ever so dreaded Death, I've been haunted by mere memories.

Why can't I forget…?

Most people say, 'Forget what went before and move on'. But the past that haunted me made me suffer. I've overlooked the memories of things past…

We've been together since the day that I knew her. I've never regretted the day I've known that one person who made me smile; who made me grasp life and seek happiness in times when I summon death to blew away my candle and take my soul to eternal rest; the one whom I loved more than my accursed existence. And now I'm here, ruing, yearning; longing for her sweet gentle voice from the fields of amber hay; seeking her unblemished, fair complexion; waiting for her under that gloomy, sombre night.

I never really knew what cause her to abandon the sweet days of the morning sun… the still, calm rays of the full moon as the night vanquished the day. Little did we have a row for I've fixed my course of life loving her forever. Though I never heard her uttered her love, I believe that she love me, too. I became her friend and she to me.

Each day I've tried to comfort myself; ease the pain that seemed to dwell forever in my heart; murmur her name through that lustrous lake remembering our gawkish wandering every night.

'I will come back'.

But she didn't come back. Years I've waited and prayed on my sleepless nights; on my few sleeps I've dreamt about her calling my name and found there's no such thing but mere illusions.

I am very much dying with this feeling. This feeling was intensified when I learned that she abandoned me for the sake of that hidden happiness she will never and would never find with me… Until one day, something made my whole give way to the possible early passing of my non-existence.

Hearsays wandered about: Death has stolen life once again—a maiden's funeral. I, knowing nothing; thinking only of those gay remembrances, sought for truth with the increasing rumours in the town for the news caused a certain tension in my whole being.

'What a pity!' someone said as I sneaked through a group of gossipers down an old pub.

'Yes, and I heard, that on her deathbed she's been uttering words, but the physician knew nothing of what she's saying', said the tender. 'I think she's calling for someone, I don't know, I only learned it from my wife.'

'Wasn't she the daughter of that old violinist, who performed here many years ago?' said a man.

'Didn't you hear?'

'It seems like yesterday when I heard her singing at the playhouse, and now, poor lass, a mere memory!' said the doubtful baker.

The conversation continued. They spun useless assumptions as to what caused her early departing. Someone said she might have intentionally taken her life, the other, a carnal vice of liquor, opium or the like.

These notions disturbed me not but the eagerness of knowing whom she was struck me most.

'Where can we find her, then?' asked the baker.

'She's resting at Madame Valerius' house, you know, her benefactress. Burial will be the day after tomorrow', said the tender.

Hearing this, my heart began to shatter. No doubt that was she—my love.

I hasten to leave, away to where I'm bound to see my love one last time. Never did I imagined seeing her not since she left for that one painful cause—a cause that I wished to get rid of in my mind: the knowledge of her impossible ease with me. I never sent her away nor did I condemn her acquaintance. I love her; I don't know if she loved me in return, but her heart-pounding looks seemed to speak to my ears saying that she loved me back. Only there's one thing I detest; one thing I consider to regret: my irreparable, wicked existence that mankind will never realise.

Was that the reason why she left my unhappy life to be forever drowned into permanent solitude? Was that the reason why she never uttered those three words…?

Accusations could not find a place in my heart. I was dying not only for her loss but also for my unanswered love forever lost and gone with the wind.

My body shivered as I took the last step in front of Mama Valerius' house. I began to remember the day when I saw my dearest standing there, with those captivating eyes staring at my own. — And now, I will never see them again.

With that sudden remembering, a tear found its way through my cheek. I started to walk towards the door and saw people inside. Their faces depicted a natural sorrow for the death of a soul but never they exceeded the mourning that I felt.

A look of wonder clothed their senses when I made my presence felt. I cared no more of what they said as soon as I draw myself towards her last remains. I knew that Mama Valerius recognised me for she approached and guided me to the dead. She said nothing; only one thing was apparent—her grief. A man was there, too. I knew immediately who he was and that frown in his face gave me a look of hatred, which I cared not more than her.

I tried to collect my strength to move towards the coffin. I could not imagine my love inside that sealed box waiting to be buried under the ground—I tried not to imagine. But not soon enough, my tears flowed endlessly upon that hapless day. There I saw, at last, my lady. A trace of wistfulness dominated her features. Her lips were pale, so as her cheeks; her eyes were barred to see light; and her entire was all but a motionless being. That would be the most mournful event in my life.

I took off the piece of thing that concealed my wickedness and bewailed with all might my dark fate with those tears of love oozing its way from the depths of my soul… Then I saw no more.

From then, I lost everything. My love remained on the threshold of her tomb remembering still the memories of her. Day and night I cried for her. Thinking of her unexpected loss gave me infinite pain. Now, with my life beholding this cruel and unjust world, I long for death to be with her once again…