I was still very dazed and pale, when I returned to the house upon the lake. I didn't see Erik, but I heard a few keys, so I knew he was composing. I didn't want his to see me like this. I cannot say why I reacted so suddenly, but perhaps it was due to all the sudden responsibility thrust upon my small shoulders. Yes, I did say that I wanted this job, but only when it was served to me, did I realize just what I needed to become. And that I was far from ready.
So instead of grabbing a book, and having a rest, I stood motionless in the middle of the library, facing away from the door. All I was aware of myself, was that my hands were shaking uncontrollably. I heard the door to the library. Oh no.
"Victoria," Erik murmured and motioned toward me, touching my arm. "Victoria, are you okay?"
I tried to turn to face him, but my legs gave out from under me. Erik barely caught me, and helped me onto the ground. At this point my whole body was shaking. Even though I was seated, safely, on the ground, Erik still had his arms hovering around me.
"Victoria," It was barely a whisper, "What's wrong?"
I couldn't breathe. My heart was racing and I felt like I was about to lose what little I had had for breakfast that morning. My senses stopped responding, and though I looked frozen, my mind was whirring. I couldn't do this. I wasn't ready. I needed… I needed to leave.
Stars appeared behind my eyes, and I felt as though I was about to faint. Is this what it feels like to die?
"Victoria," Erik pleaded, "What's going on? Victoria, you're scaring me."
The shaking didn't stop, instead it got more intense. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't move my hands. I was completely numb all over and I couldn't feel anything.
The first few tears slid their way down my cheek and I collapsed in on myself. Erik knelt beside me, trying to catch my eye line. I, finally getting control over myself, looked at him, masked face and all.
"Victoria," he said yet again, "What is going on?"
Tears still sliding down my face, answered, "I'm stage manager."
He looked at me, his eyes searching. His lips turned up into a small smile. When I didn't respond the same way, his smile faltered.
"Isn't that a good thing?" he asked "Isn't that what you wanted?"
I shook my head. "When I said it, I guess I did, but I didn't realize the full reasonability of this job. Yes, I wanted it then but now… I'm so scared."
"You needn't be afraid," He reassured, "You have no reason. This opportunity is simply the ability to be heard. That's what said you wanted. Is that not what you wanted?"
I took a breath. "Yes, that is what I wanted."
"Then you got what you wanted. In that case, shouldn't you be happy?"
I glanced at him. For the first time I noticed one eye was a warm, brown, then the one on the side that was covered with the mask, was a clear, piercing blue.
"I-I should b-be happy. B-but I c-can't."
"Why not?" Erik asked.
"I-I… I don't know."
"You should always strive to achieve happiness," He began, "Even when the future seems bleak and empty. Always look for the happiness, however small. Life will get far too depressing if you allow all of that to weigh down on yourself."
I smiled. The phrase seemed familiar.
"Is that what has kept you alive all these years?" I asked
"No." he laughed, "It's just good advice for girls like yo – all these years? How old do you think I am?"
I looked away from him, "I don't know, over fifty?" I ask.
He looked mock insulted, "By my sound calculations, I have just graced thirty."
"Oh." Was all I could muster.
Erik still smiled. "I guess, to a young sixteen year-old however, thirty is still a long while away."
It was my turn to laugh, "Erik," I said, "I'm twenty-one, not sixteen. You're off by five years."
Erik shot me a look, "And you're off by over twenty years."
I said nothing.
And there we sat in the most painfully awkward silence I had ever experienced in my entire life.
Then suddenly, we both spontaneously, just burst out laughing. We must have looked a sight, sitting on the floor of the library, wheezing with laughter at almost nothing but the sheer awkwardness of the previous conversation.
As we settled down, again, he glanced behind me. I was facing away from the door, so I couldn't see what was going on, but it didn't seem good.
His face paled and turned a solemn expression, "Wait my dear, I believe we have a guest."
I turned,
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
"Raoul."
