Once again the scene changed. Erik looked around discovered they were back in Paris. He was not sure if he should feel relived or not about this.

It was night in Paris. Did every place they visited have to be cloaked in darkness? Erik supposed that, even though he didn't realize it, even as he lived in the dark he allowed others to live in the light.

This was one of the few parts of Paris Erik recognized. The streets and allies around his Opera House were ones he could never forget.

Erik did not even bother asking the angel what they were doing in this place. He knew the reason would show itself soon enough.

Looking around Erik saw nothing out of the ordinary. The street lights were lit, sending a yellow glow out into the velvety darkness. The shadows they cast slid on and off the few people wondering the streets.

Erik knew that the only people who were out here now were the prostitutes and their customers. It was a fact that some of the dancers in the ballet took up this old profession for a boost in cash.

In fact, here was one of them now. Erik watched her as she led a man towards an ally way. He knew she was a dancer by her tall frame and the way she walked. In mild disgust, Erik watched the two in the ally. He saw the woman's skirts lifted and the man press against her.

Finished rather quickly, the man stepped away from the woman and re did his pants. The woman smoothed down her skirts and waited. However the man began to walk away.

"Hey!" the woman cried, and though her voice was a bit gravelly from drinking and smoking, Erik thought he had heard that voice before…

"Hey! You didn't pay me!" The man had been walking away from her and she stopped him just as he passed into the light of one of the street lamps. The face of the woman was still hidden in shadow, but Erik could see the man.

He was quite sickening looking. He was rather plump with dark, greasy hair and little beady eyes. Instead of saying anything to the woman, he raised his hand to her and slapped her so hard across the face she fell over into the pool of lamp light. He walked away grumbling something about prostitutes and their place.

Slowly and fearfully, Erik walked over to the form of the woman lying on the ground. He was almost afraid to see her face, because he had a feeling he knew who she was.

"No," Erik whispered, heartbroken, "Oh God,"

His Christine. What had he done! Erik sank to his knees before her.

"Christine, why?" Erik felt more awful than ever before.

The angel came up behind him, "Erik, you were the reason she was noticed by the world! You gave her music to love and fed her soul! Your strict tutelage kept her away from the trouble other dancers find themselves in, you gave her the chance to sing on stage, and be noticed by her husband and her true love…without you none of that was possible,"

Erik felt tears in his eyes again. This was his Christine! And despite the fact that she had broken his heart and left him, he had still loved her more than any other woman in his life. In the end, he only wanted her happiness. That was exactly why he had sent her off with Raoul.

Christine had given him other things besides a broken heart. She had been something to love and take care of, which had made his darkness a bit brighter. She was his muse, and the hours he had spent enraptured by music had been because of her.

She had shown him compassion as well. She had cared for him, pitied him for his life of darkness. Erik supposed that while pity was not love by any means, it was better than nothing. And she had done something more; he had known Christine, in the Biblical sense of the world. For one night, he had had her. She had given him one night of pleasure in a life of pain.

Never would her want this for her. Her life was ruined, her voice was ruined. He had sent her off wishing that she found love and joy, even if it was without him.

Suddenly Christine stirred. She sat up and rubbed her sour face. Her brown eyes narrowed and she stared off in the direction the man had been heading.

"Bastard," Christine growled. Erik noted that the bright naiveté in her eyes he had loved so much was gone. Destroyed by the world she had fallen into.

Erik tried to reach out and grab her shoulders but of course he could not.

"Oh Christine why!" Erik cried, "My poor Christine! I am so sorry my love! I never meant for this to happen!"

Of course Christine did not hear him. She simply walked off, looking for another man who would make up for the loss of money.

Erik would have gone after her. He would have followed her to the end of the earth just to watch her, even if he could do nothing to help her. However he was not allowed.

In a flash they were back where they had started.

The house by the lake. Erik looked around his home. It somehow seemed strange to him. All the familiar furniture and rooms were suddenly not so familiar. It was as though he had been dropped into someone else's house.

Erik realized, though nothing in his house had changed, he had.

The angel watched as Erik walked to the far corner of the kitchen. His back was turned to her, but she knew he was trying to compose himself.

Finally he turned to face her. His eyes were red and he looked very tired.

"Alright," Erik said shakily, "I understand, I cannot let that happen to Christine…or to Nadir or…to anyone,"

The angel smiled that white, beautiful smile that made Erik's heart beat faster.

"I thought you would realize in the end," the angel said, walking toward him, "And I never want you to think about this killing yourself idea ever again either, your life was worth more than you known…when I look at you Erik, I see your soul, and believe me it is quite beautiful,"

The angel was now hardly an inch away from him. She reached up and touched his deformed face with her delicate hand. Erik found her beauty suddenly even more stunning. His heart, which had already been pumping very quickly, now began to race.

"Remember that Erik," She whispered, and with that, she brought her lips to meet his.

Erik felt like his heart had exploded. The sensation of her kiss was pure heaven. He felt like a bright beam had just been cast onto him, fully lighting his dark heart at last.

He felt her hands on either side of his face, and the slight brush against his shoulders as her wings circled him. He had his arms around her waist and he felt her breathe in and out, he felt the comfort and warmth of her. He never wanted this to end.

(Narration change!)

It was like waking from a dream. It took me a moment, but I slowly realized that the angel was gone. I was slumped over at my kitchen table, the needle beside me, just where I had started.

I reached for the needle and picked it up. Yes, I was back. I sat there wondering; had all that really happened? Or had it all been my imagination? A hallucination brought on by the drug?

I was so lost in thought that I did not hear him coming. Nadir had made sure that the boy and Christine found their way out of the cellar. I had not thought he would return, I was sure he was through with me at last. However, he felt it was his responsibility to come back.

"Erik!" He called; walking through the house, "Erik!"

Nadir entered the kitchen and found me with the needle in my hand. I can imagine what he thought.

"Oh Erik," Nadir sighed, "You are a fool to do such things to yourself,"

But I was not listening to him. I was eyeing a white feather. I knew that there was only one way it could have gotten there. The angel had been real; as had been everything she had shown me.

I looked up at Nadir, and I could see the shocked look on his face. At first he recoiled; I wore no mask. And yet, this was not the thing which shocked him.

After realizing it all must have been real, I felt a great happiness and relief welling up inside of me that I was completely unfamiliar with. I was ecstatic, for once, to be alive, to know that all of those horrible things had not happened to the people I had discovered I really cared about.

Nadir standing in front of me proved that. And the reason he looked so surprised was that he had never seen me look so happy.

"Nadir! Old friend! You are alive! And here in Paris!" I cried, throwing down the needle and quickly embracing the shocked Persian.

"Of course I am! Where else would I be?" Nadir stared at me, "Are you drunk Erik?"

I laughed. Nadir again was shocked. He had never heard such a mirth filled noise come from my lips.

"No! You silly old fool! In fact I think I have never been in such a pure, good, state of mind!" I smiled at him and he looked confusedly back at me.

"And what of Christine?" I continued happily, "Did she go off and marry her boy?"

"Yes Erik, you know that she did," Nadir said slowly, "You were the one who sent her off with him,"

"Good," I said, still grinning broadly, "I think she will be happy,"

"Erik really," Nadir said, "What has gotten into you? I have never know morphine to have this effect on you,"

"It isn't morphing Nadir," I said. For the first time I looked away from him. I had let myself fall down a dark spiral of morphine and madness. Nadir had tried to pull me out, but I couldn't see just how bad I had gotten.

But now I could. Having had my life taken away and then shown such terrible images, and then being kissed by an angel…I had been given a new perspective. Now I could see what kind of danger I was in.

I eyed my dark, depressing home. Suddenly I felt I couldn't stand the place. I knew my life had had some purpose, though I didn't know what more I could do from this point on. But I did know that come what may, I didn't want to die in this house by the lake.

"I want to get out of here Nadir; I can't live here anymore," I said.

Of all the moods Nadir had pictured me in; this was not even close to what he had imagined. Sadness, anger, defeat…that had been what he had expected. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would find me elated and happy, wishing to quit my dark abode.

"Erik, what has gotten into you? Why are you acting this way?" Nadir asked.

How could I explain? I laughed. There was no way I could explain this change in me to him. I couldn't mention the angel; he would think I was crazy or hallucinating.

"I can't explain it Nadir," I said truthfully, "I just need to get out of here; will you help me? I don't think I can do this alone," Seeing as how without me Nadir would have been ripped apart by a tiger, I figured he owed me.

"Erik I have tried to help you!" Nadir cried, "You are a drug addict and…well your moods are so unpredictable it is intolerable,"

"I know," I sighed, "I have really made a mess of things haven't I? But Nadir I don't want to be like that anymore; I want to quit morphine and I want to get the hell out of this place…I think it is half the reason I am so crazy,"

I was almost sure it was. How could anyone be normal when they lived in a house underground with no light and slept in a coffin?

"Erik if you are serious," Nadir eyed me suspiciously, "Than I will help you, but you had better not relapse because I don't want a drug addict around me; I will give you this one last change,"

"Thank you old friend," I said in the most heartfelt tone I think I have ever used with him, "I promise I won't disappoint you,"

That same day I collected a few things; clothes, pens and music sheets, and a few other odds and ends and went with Nadir to his apartment. I would live there until I could stand on my own two feet again.