Author's note PLEASE READ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:
This is my very first shot at a serious Phantom story. I have written a prologue type first chapter, and I wish for you to read it! I will need LOTS of feedback, constructive criticism, and Honesty!!! So, my wonderful readers and reviewers of my other, less serious works(ahem you know the ones, of course, not counting most of the poems:P), I need you now more than ever! Yes, yes, I am begging, I cannot deny that, but I'm serious! Please let me know what you think, especially areas of improvement. Now, sorry, that was long, just had to say…so read :D
Lost hope…lost love…It takes some time for these things to sink in. I stand here, staring out over the darkness of the lake…where she had disappeared. I wish…but what do I wish? That I had never met her? That she had never met that boy? That I had never fallen in love?...Love is not a word for the way I feel about her. I desperately try to think, but for once, my mind fails me. So I continue to stare, at a complete loss of what to do, or of what to think about. Lost hope, lost love...
Being completely oblivious to what my body is doing, I fall to the ground, and weep. I weep for lost hope, lost love, lost dreams…I weep for her. I have realized that she is not here…she has left…she is…gone. And she will never return to me. My Angel! I cry! I weep, and weep, and I cannot discontinue my tears, for the flow of water coming from my eyes seems to be as violent as rain in a heavy storm. And, at the moment, that is exactly how I feel. Oh Christine, what have you done to your Angel, to me, to Erik? I try to clear my thoughts, but all composure momentarily leaves me, and I lie here, near my home, close to the deadly stillness of this underground lake on the cold, hard stone ground... I have abandoned myself temporarily to the darkness, the sound of my sobbing and the trickle of tears gently falling into the water being the only. A clear, vivid image of her face swims to my mind, and I cry harder, howl at my misfortune, and scream out at nothingness. I lift up my hands to my face and entwine my nails into my flesh, scratching, scraping pounding. My cursed ugliness! My wretched soul! My violent actions! My insanity! The tears flow harder, and I begin to struggle for breath. But I do not care. I acknowledge the stabbing pains in my chest, for it is no use to pretend that they are not there. There is nothing left now but to weep, for the tears which continue to flow do not seem like they want to stop anytime soon. I lie here, having refrained from inflicting further physical pain upon my self, reflecting upon my life, and upon the people that I have met…and upon the world. If God exists, and if he truly and wholly grants wonderful things, I hope he relieves me of my pain. I wish to die tonight, for there is nothing left to live for. Take me…soon...
I grow shaky, experiencing a sensation similar to being spun around blackness repeatedly. How long I have been lying here, shuddering, shaking and weeping, I cannot tell, for time is no use to me. The tears become less, and the aching in my body more. I know it can't be any longer than a few minutes now…how exhausted I am. My eyelids grow heavy, and I sigh, satisfied. Slowly, I sink into utter blackness, the kind that is much more dense than that of a simply unlit room.