A Ghost's Romance
Chapter One
The Last Good-bye
Winter has come and snow will soon be falling covering all with its white purity. I suppose this time of year is fitting for me to say my last farewell to the woman who has held me in thrall for too long with too little in return. If I am to survive I must sever every connection with Christine. Leaving the country is the only way to do that. Staying in France it is far too likely I will hear of her and her newly acquired husband Raoul de Chagny often enough for it to cripple me with every word of their happiness that reaches my ears or every picture printed in papers reporting the happy couple's merry existence.
The day they wed I sat perched in the darkened rafters as they exchanged their vows of love and devotion. A dagger to my heart would have inflicted no less pain than to hear her sweetly declare before God and countrymen that she would have that boy, Raoul as her husband. The final words entwining their lives, their very souls for eternity, felt as if death hovered over me. Gladly would I have welcomed him to take me out of my misery. No such pardon for my sins had been granted to me for I was left to suffer witnessing once again Raoul's triumph over me.
For several weeks afterward a bottle of cheap wine or anything containing alcohol had been my only companion. I cannot say what ultimately dragged me out of the pit I had placed myself in. Perhaps in a drunken stupor I had imagined my love, my dear sweet Christine, crying over me, begging me not to end it this way. She perhaps implored me to take one last chance to make some sort of life outside in the real world, the world where light and darkness have equal opportunity to claim a portion of the day. If I dreamed her lips once again caressed me with a mixture of love and compassion maybe that had been what spurred my interest in life once more. Vaguely I can remember just such dreams but as hard as I try nothing will solidify so I may see the truth of my own imagination. If I were a man of whimsy I might say a real Angel of Mercy had visited me.
Whatever the case may be I did climb out of that darkness to find my way into a life, or as close to a life as a ghost can claim to have. Interacting with people is still not something I readily accept. Being a man of considerable wealth has its advantages. Money can buy necessities as well as the service of others. For the right price men and women are willing to overlook the oddity I present with my mask. My mask is not only figurative but of substance as well. I daresay if it were removed I would show another mask to the world, a mask of uncaring cruelty. That mask I have worn for many years in my younger days when I traveled the world striking out before anyone could do me any harm whether that had been their intention or not.
Foolishly I had left the safety of L'Opéra Populaire when the urge to see beyond my safe boundaries led me astray. For five years I had left the opera house returning when I had gorged myself on the ugliness of the world and the atrocities man committed against man all in the name of progress or perceived divine right.
One bright spot in all that disenchantment with the world had been Madame's heartfelt gladness to learn of my return. She had not even minded when I took up being the opera house ghost or phantom to some. Superstitious idiots that those artists were it had been all too easy to dupe them into believing not one but two specters haunted them. One demanded a salary and box five while the other made no demands but caused all manner of disruptions and fright among the staff.
I have left all of that behind me, for good this time. Never will I return to my opera house. Letters have been written to Madame and Christine as well. Delivery of those missives will not take place until I have been long gone from France. Instructions concerning the account set up for Madame Giry and her daughter Meg have been included in her letter. A sizeable amount has been deposited as a way to repay years of loyal service. The one and only time she had shown me any disloyalty had been when she showed the Vicomte the way to my home. Lucky for her she had not gone any further than the third cellar. One cellar down and she would have fallen through the stairs and landed in one of my traps, the very one that Raoul had just barely escaped with his life. I would not have forgiven myself if Madame's service to me had come to such a violent end.
With the passage of time and a clearer head, I have come to realize she did nothing more than what a concerned mother would have done, given aid to the man who would try to save her daughter, always Christine has been like a second daughter to Antoinette. How strange it is to allow myself to think of her so personally, Antoinette, a beautiful name. Throughout our association I dare not let her come to mean more to me than a means to acquire the things I needed and wanted. I am and perhaps to some extent will always be a selfish man. Having little as a child other than cruelty does not give one liberty to run roughshod over others just because it is possible to do so. Those damn Gypsies, the bane of my childhood for nearly five years have much to answer for as do I.
I can't change my past but perhaps I have learned from it and can make my future a better one than I had seen for myself in a long time. Knowing Christine will never be a part of that future does not come easily for me. I have grieved ceaselessly for so long now I know no other way to deal with her loss. Separation, complete and final separation is the only thing I can think of to do. Distance, many thousands of miles must be put between me and my angel, my love, for I fear I may weaken and try one last time to win her. I mustn't let myself be swayed by my own longings for her. I may love her with every breath I take but her love for me is but a pale shadow of the love she feels for the man who stood by her side proudly defying family and propriety by marrying a young woman many would say beneath him socially as well as economically.
Love such as that boy's, no, I must give him proper respect and refer to him as Raoul. Raoul has shown himself to be a man of honor. In the cemetery his sword hovered not an inch from my heart but a plea from Christine had saved me even as his lust for vengeance burned within him just as hotly as it did in me. He could have sent men after me. He has the means to put a high price on my head. None of those things have come about because he loves Christine too much to do any of those things as it would hurt her as well as Madame and perhaps to some lesser degree, Meg.
I do regret not availing myself of Meg's companionship over the years. Madame had wanted to make me known to Meg but my fear of having her reject me kept that from happening. I know that Madame had wanted to bring me into her family when she married. Too many times my face had earned me nothing but fear and loathing. Mother I am sure could attest to that as her own rejection for those very reasons cut me the most of any others in my life. Not even Christine's rejection pains me as much as my own mother's turning from me disgusted by what she saw. If I had been the perfect son she had expected never would I have ended up a display in a fair run by the cruel hands of my gypsy captors.
Their way to deal with me had been to keep me locked up just as they did all their animals. The small child given into their care out of desperation had been treated as less than human. After a while I do suppose much of my humanity had been either beaten or starved out of me. Nothing can come of regrets or what ifs. Only looking ahead will end my torment. With this vast world God has created there must be one place where a man such as I can find if not love, then at least acceptance and peace.
Looking at them all the day of Christine's wedding silently I had wished them happiness and one last farewell. If my eyes lingered longest on one face so be it. I should be allowed that one last lingering glance. That is all I will have to sustain me perhaps for the rest of my life. It was hard to breathe normally as I watched Christine and Raoul embrace. The kiss they shared brought the sting of tears to my eyes and an all too familiar ache to my chest. Countless times I have begged God to tear every memory of Christine from my mind in the hope I might find some peace. Immediately after such prayers I thank God for having brought Christine into my life. Those years with her although mixed with pain and pleasure I would not change but those last few months of my insanity I would dearly love to amend. I daresay the pleasure will linger long after the pain.
I had watched the couple walk down the aisle toward the doors at the back of the church. For a moment Christine paused as if she could feel the intensity of my stare. She did look up just where I had been sitting crouched in a dark corner. No one could possibly have seen me but I felt she could sense me. Our connection has not been fully broken then if she had sensed my presence. I had to steel myself against dropping down and committing one final heinous act. I stayed rigid as every muscle tensed with the effort for control. My pledge to release her warred with the beast in me to vanquish my rival and bring my angel back under my wings. It cannot be. It was not written in the stars for the two of us to be together forever. As much as I have wished it, begged for it, I know it will not ever be. Finally I relinquished my Angel into the hands of her lover.
With a tentative smile Christine had lowered her head. With her right hand she plucked out a single red rose. Lowering her hand she let it slid from her fingers. Woe to anyone who so much as looked at her offering to me. She, as well as I, knew this was the last of our encounters. I have set her free now I must find a way to free myself from her.
Even after the last guest had gone I remained paralyzed. To take one step out of that place would once and for all sever the ties between Christine and I, at least on her part. Closing my eyes to gather my courage and strengthen my conviction, I had at last been able to move from my place of vigilance. Using the same rope to go down that I used to climb up slowly I made my way to the place near the door where Christine dropped that perfect red rosebud. Symbolic or not I will always believe this was Christine's way to let me know she had and still did love me and care what happened to me. This memento will be added to many others, some from reality and some from the imaginings of my mind.
I had taken a seat in the pew letting my fingers fondle the delicate petals. Christine reminds me of a rose freshly picked but not yet opened to full life. For me she had just begun to blossom. Turning from a beautiful child into an equally beautiful woman it should not have surprised me or anyone else I fell madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with her. Even her voice held a purity and loveliness not many could match. When our voices meshed so perfectly during the performance of Don Juan Triumphant I felt certain she would see how perfectly suited we were. There is more to love than suitability as proven when Raoul ignored all those who would say Christine beneath his notice. His nature had been to protect no matter the cost to himself. Over and over he has shown himself to be a man of honor and integrity. His one deviation had been the night of that last performance when he along with those two idiot managers had made an all out declaration of war between them and the Phantom by attempting to capture him.
If Raoul could have foreseen what would happen he would not have carried out his plan. His weakness had been to underestimate just to what lengths a man would go when desperate to claim something that meant everything to him. In hindsight I have thought that perhaps I had hoped not to survive that night. Cutting down the chandelier had put not only my own life in jeopardy but Christine's and everyone in that opera house. I had not cared what happened to any of those people. They were so much rubbish to be disposed of on my road to achieve my goal.
Even now I recall bringing that fragrant bud to my face and inhaling deeply. Always this perfume will bring my Angel to me in mind if not in body. Tenderly I had dragged it across my lips remembering just how soft Christine's mouth had been when pressed against my own. Those two salutations have replayed in my mind countless times as I am sure they will continue to do for many months, perhaps even years to come. Most males experience their first kiss in their youth. For me it had been in my thirties and as a way to persuade me to be more man than monster.
Standing with resolution I had made my way to the doors. No sound came from outside. I had been very happy to learn this country church would be the place where Christine and Raoul were to be married. I remember opening the doors and breathing in deeply. The air smelled of sweet freedom. The crisp early winter air frosted with my exhalation of breaths. In the distance I could see a line of carriages traveling on the road that would end at the de Chagny's country estate.
Whistling loudly I awaited my mounts arrival. A snicker could be heard in reply. Apparition came trotting out of the woods looking much like his name. Pure white muscled beast that he is, Apparition compliments the darker inner side of me as well as the darker outer skin I wear. A more gentle animal I have never come across. His intelligence in comparison to most humans is astounding. Like me, he had been sold to the gypsies or stolen from someone by them. The means by which he came to be with them had not mattered to me. What had mattered had been the whip across his back when he could not pull the weight his master demanded he pull.
Loneliness had been what had brought me out that night nearly three months ago. As much as I deny wanting anything to do with humanity that rejected me, I still must seek out others even if I never let them see or hear me. I had heard Apparition's shrill cries of pain over the crowd and all the other sounds at the fair. A cry of pain I could recognize among a thousand voices of happiness.
The crack of the whip on flesh made a sound that had brought painful memories back to me from my childhood. Without even thinking about being seen I had set upon that man holding the whip before it even entered my mind as a thought to do so. Only the need to extricate myself and that magnificent beast had forced me to leave that poor excuse for a human being alive that night. I had rendered him unconscious as well as leaving a few very painful reminders that I had been there.
Once I had calmed the frightened animal I soothed him with my voice. Eventually he had calmed enough for me to risk touching him. I had patted his nose and he playfully nudged me back. He can sense my moods just as I can at times sense his. He does not care for my darker moods and shows that to me by acting contrary so as to gain my full attention. Cleverly he has learned how to pick my pockets so as to relieve me of my handkerchiefs. He knows this trick will bring a smile to my lips when nothing else will. Being an animal perhaps he doesn't equate smiles with happiness but the sound of my laughter that follows the smile I am sure has a better sound than my growling and cursing at the world in general.
Forcibly my mind battled with my heart that last day when the last few seconds ticked past all too quickly. I had allowed myself one last, long, lingering look toward my beloved. The carriages had all passed over the horizon. Lifting the rose to my lips I whispered the words of love for the last time. I will not have the chance to ever declare my love to Christine again. Not today or perhaps not tomorrow, but someday I will be able to put the love I feel for her in a place where pleasant but fruitless dreams belong. Until then I will have her rose to fill me with her essence for the short time it holds life.
That sad painful day I bid farewell to my love. I bid her to live happily without her Angel of Music even if he shall die in despair never knowing another love such as what he felt for her.
A/N: Please, please, please review and give me your opinion. I don't think my love and dreams for Erik will ever come to an end. There will always be new loves and new lives for him to live.