After the Ashes: The Phantom of the Opera After a Year

Chapter IV: Seals Broken Raoul's Point of View

My thoughts stopped as I heard Christine's shudder. Glancing away from the threshold, the place where the letter, that was now in Christine's frozen hand, had laid. Gently, I placed my hand on her trembling one, unclasping her immobile fingers. "Raoul", she whispered, as I stared at the red skull seal, on the letter in my hand. I knew I had to open it, but I dreaded I knew what was going to come.

I gently broke the seal and removed the small piece of parchment inside. There, was that all too familiar handwriting, all too familiar words. I looked at the letter, and put my arm around Christine, who had begun to shiver. Mlle Daae, and Monsieur deChagny; My sincerest well wishes and Greetings; As you may know, auditions have resumed at the populaire. My ingénue will be there, of course. And for les vicomte; I shall see you in Box Five, once again. I remain, your obedient servant, OG. I glanced at Christine, her eyes clouded. I pulled her close, my eyes locked on the door, so she wouldn't see the tears clouding my own.

"Raoul," she whispered, "Can I return to the opera house?", but truthfully I wasn't sure. "Spectre D'opéra, Mon Ange,Chanter, Chanter, Chanter", she stammered. It alarmed me, wondering if she had suddenly become delirious. I wasn't far from wrong, because it seemed as soon as I said this, her long eyelashes began to flutter. My heart was pounding, and my simmering blood, was back to it's previous state in the carriage, boiling again. "The Phantom of the Opera. Spectre D'opéra". I repeated, only my words were more angry than confused. Glancing toward the trembling person in my arms I started upstairs. After I was sure Christine was safe, I started to move toward the door. But seeing the letter I had lain on the bedside table, near now sleeping Christine, I took it, and then began pacing the confines of her room. I sighed. Would that man ever stop? And if he did, what would it take to make him cease his horror. These thoughts still with me, I left for the study, the letter still in hand. What would Erik do? I sighed. If only the Phantom was predictable.

FRENCH TRANSLATIONS:

Opera Ghost

My Angel!

Sing, Sing Sing.