Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera in any way, shape, or form.
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Christine hated to sleep. She hated having to wake up in the middle of the night screaming and panting because of a nightmare; hated the look of stress on Raoul's boyish face.
But most of all, she hated herself. Poor Erik, she would think, how much pain I have caused you! Even if she were a married woman, she couldn't stop thinking about Erik.
He was always in her mind; day, evening, and night. He was her obsession. She would at times feverishly worship him as a God. Erik, Erik, Erik!
It could only be deemed an act of sacrilege.
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Author's Note: Eh, I don't exactly like the way it came out, but I tried. Poor Raoul; he must be pretty scared of Christine. I know I would. XD Oh, and I know the two words for the chapter title are antonyms. I did that on purpose.
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