OK, does third person work for everyone? Enjoy, this one sounds a bit 'orrible, but bear with me, I planned it out on paper ;)

The building was large, and stereotypically grey. The doors loomed ahead as Christine was dragged limply towards the ominous building. She vainly tried to thrust her heels into the ground, but was too tired to fight anymore. Raoul had gone, as had Erik. There was no one here for her now.

She whimpered hopelessly, as the large, mocking doors creaked open, and the rain spattered her face as it tumbled down to the ground. Old men in white coats greeted her gaolers, and she cringed as their bony, freezing hands pawed at her face and pulse, and their equally cold, impassive eyes looked into her own frightened, bloodshot ones.

The elder of the two doctors sighed, and ushered the servants to follow him, with Christine in tow. She continued her redundant squirms as they pulled her into a dark, damp room and lay her on the bed. They turned without a word, and strode to the door, without a backwards glance.

"Please don't leave me here," she croaked, crawling weakly off the thin mattress, "You would leave me here to die?!" The clanging door was her answer; their dying footsteps on the stone floor their laughter at Christine's 'madness'.

Christine sat alone in her cell, knees hugged under her chin as she sat alone. The voices started again, the sounds more daring in the gloom. She felt Erik's body wrap around her shuddering figure, and he held her close to him. After a while, Christine let out a frustrated sob and shoved his arm away from her shoulders and stood far away in the corner.

Erik laughed a little, and made to move towards her. "Don't touch me," she murmured, without turning to face him, "What have you done to me?"

"I warned you, my love, that you would suffer for your insolence."

"But like this? How you could be so heartless, so…so cruel!"

"My darling, listen to me!" Erik strode over to her, turning her roughly around by the shoulders and grasping her jaw upwards to him. "Now you are here, we will be free of that pathetic little boy you called Husband. Now it shall forever be you and me!"

"Not to mention the doctor's and psychologists who will forever be poking and prodding me! No, Erik, you say you have freed me from the insanities of what you call, my 'false marriage'. But now I really start to believe Raoul, my beautiful Raoul who you ripped away from me! Now, stuck in this hell, how can I understand fantasy from reality? Are you a reality? Is all that?"

She gestured to the window, to the dim moon and the hidden stars. "Erik, what I have with you is bliss, it is so beautiful to me that I so want to believe it's real. Now, seeing this grey old building, and the demon living in Raoul's eyes, I understand that you're beauty isn't real, and this horrible life I have now, is the reality. Strange that it has all came about because of you, simply a dream; a figment of my imagination."

Christine wiped at her eyes and paused to stop her voice from choking. Erik watched, heartbreak evident in his eyes. He made to move closer to her, but Christine held up her hand to him.

"I want you to leave, and I don't ever want to see you again. I…I can't pretend anymore. I have to face this world. I want to be with Raoul." Erik stepped back, closing his eyes as tears rolled down his face. The silence held for a lifetime.

Erik broke it, by taking Christine's slight fingers in his hand and kissing each tip, and then the palm. Christine looked away, desperately trying to erase any emotion she had for the now transparent entity that was Erik. "I'll be close," he whispered, his lips still grazing her outstretched palm, "I'll be so close."

He carefully dropped her palm, and was suddenly not there anymore. Christine waited a moment, before swaying on her legs and dropping to the floor, crying into her dirty skirts. Behind her, looking through the little window in the padded door, stood two old men in white coats.

xXx

"She's clearly delusional," The taller stated, still looking at the weeping girl inside, "There's nothing for it."

"Yes," the smaller replied, straightening his coat while his face twitched into a little smirk, "The famous French soprano, who'd have thought it? You're completely right:

Miss Daae must undergo treatment immediately."