Chapter Two:
Christine woke in a cold sweat, her chocolate curls plastered to her face and her heart pounding, threatening to burst from her chest. She looked around frantically, sleep still clouding her vision. Dying oil lamps cast eerie shadows on the sleeping forms tossing in their beds and the curtains danced lazily as the bitter January wind seeped through the thin, cracked walls. She was in the ballet dormitories…she was home.
She sighed with relief and lay back down, snuggling under the covers and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.
After what seemed an eternity, her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate slowed, but she could not find rest. So many questions…so much that did not make sense. Each thought collided with the next, running together until she could not distinguish where one ended and the other began.
She sat up and looked out the small ornate, dusty window by her bed. It was still early morning; the gray of the sky gave the city of love a somber, mournful appearance. The shops, normally bustling with life, were still closed and the chairs of the outdoor cafés were face down on the tables. Snow drifted slowly on the soft breeze before dusting the empty streets in pure, undisturbed white powder. Save for the elderly man hobbling around delivering papers, it seemed a ghost town.
Giving up any hope of sleep, she pushed the covers from her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Perhaps a visit to her father's grave would help. With so many things weighing on her mind over the last few months and now this all-too-real dream, she needed to be near him. Despite having been gone for years, he still was able to comfort her and help the toughest decisions seem easier to make.
As her bare feet touched the ice cold floor, a violent shiver racked her petite form. She quickly pulled a small blanket from the bed to cover herself.
Christine moved stealthily past the quiet figures around the room, expertly avoiding the floor boards that groaned and creaked with age. She opened the door to find Raoul asleep on the floor; he had spent the night watching over her, should the Phantom attempt to take her. She smiled, moved by his thoughtfulness yet slightly irritated, he had not left her one moment to herself since that night on the rooftop.
Silently she closed the door, knowing he would panic if he woke to find it open and she were missing, and tiptoed past him. She glanced back at him once more before wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and leaving him to his fantasies.
The walk to the stables was all but a blur, her feet guided by memory alone. Her mind tried to recall the dream that had seemed so real; replaying it over and over again, trying to understand and every detail was becoming more painfully clear. Her heart felt heavy and at the same time broken, as if in a million pieces, cutting into her soul until she felt tears sting her eyes.
As she wiped the tear stains from her face, she found herself in the wardrobe room with a black dress draped over her arm. She vaguely remembered paying for the buggy and seeing the stable master hitching the horses. She turned to make her way to the dressing corner when she saw them, a bouquet of deep red roses bound by a black satin ribbon. Only one person left her such gifts, tokens of his love and affection…he was watching her. The thought should have made her uneasy, but he was her Angel, he would always be there. Regardless of what everyone thought, as long as he watched over her she knew she was safe.
Once again deep in thought as she walked to the carriage, Christine didn't notice the boots lying inside an empty stall, nor the cloaked figure upon the coach box.
"To my father's grave please" she muttered, barely above a whisper, as she climbed into the coach, smoothing her skirts as she sat. With a snap of the reigns and a small lunge forward, the Opera Populaire began to fade into the distance.
The bleak still of the morning, the howling of the wind, the beating of hooves, the crunch of the snow, and the gentle sway of the carriage melded together in a resounding requiem. Her heart raced, matching the steps of the horses and her blood felt as cold as the air biting her face. Never in her life had anything sounded so mournful, so desolate, reaching to the core of her soul and ripping it to shreds. She had felt this way in her dream; the pain had felt so true, so tangible…even now it tormented her.
She had married Raoul, her childhood sweetheart, her fiancé. They had lived a wonderful life and had beautiful children. Everything she had ever dreamed of having since she was a child had come true, so why could she feel only sorrow? How had pain, heartbreak, regret, and loneliness become so much a part of her life that she could remember nothing else?
'In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came, that voice which calls to me, and speaks my name…'
Those words echoed in her head and the headlines from her dream flashed before her eyes, 'Phantom of Opera Found Dead!'.
Fresh tears rolled down her face as a wave of grief washed over her; she had lost him. Her Angel, her Phantom, her Erik had died.
The thought of losing him frightened her. How could she live without him? He has been everything to her for the better part of ten years. He has given her everything; hope, music, joy, compassion, happiness, companionship, and love.
'Love? Does he love me? Do I love him? No, of course not! I love Raoul, we are to be married!' She reasoned with herself, trying to quiet that little voice of doubt. ' it is love, isn't it? Or do I love the memories we share of my father? No!' She scolded herself, 'I love Raoul and he loves me, he always has.
'But, then where has he been? All these years since my father's death, why did he never come looking for me? Surely his family has enough money and resources that they could have found me. If he loves me as much as he claims, why did he leave me alone?' But as that thought crossed her mind, a small smile curved her tear stained lips. ' but I wasn't alone, I had my Angel…Erik. He was always there with me.'
The hansom came to an abrupt halt outside the cemetery gates and momentarily pulled her from her thoughts. As she stepped down and through the tall iron threshold, any and all happiness in her life seemed to vanish. Her entire body was empty, a black hole of pain and despair. Each breath came heavier than the last, the overwhelming sadness all consuming.
A dense fog hovered over the ground; snow falling like widow's tears, covering the graves of loved ones in a cold embrace. The looming hooded guardians stared down at her with empty eyes as she walked past. She caressed the petals of the roses he had given her, hoping for some comfort.
"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing…her father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music…her father promised her,her father promised her."
