"Who knows when love begins
Who knows what makes it start
One day it's simply there
Alive inside your heart
It slips into your thoughts
It infiltrates your soul
It takes you by surprise
Then seizes full control
Try to deny it
And try to protest
But love won't let you go
Once you've been possessed
Love never dies
Love never falters
Once it has spoken
Love is yours
Love never fades
Love never alters
Hearts may get broken
Love endures
Hearts may get broken
Love endures
And soon as you submit
Surrender flesh and bone
That love takes on a life
Much bigger than your own
It uses you at whim
And drives you to despair
And forces you to feel
More joy than you can bear
Love gives you pleasure
And love brings you pain
And yet when both are gone
Love will still remain
Once it has spoken
Love is yours
Love never dies
Love never alters
Hearts may get broken
Love endures
Hearts may get broken
Love never dies
Love will continue
Love keeps on beating
When you're gone
Love never dies
Once it is in you
Life may be fleeting
Love lives on
Life may be fleeting
Love lives on!"
And the aria ended.
The audience immediately jumped to its feet jubilantly, clapping so hard, I think their hands nearly bled. Mother beamed, her smile as bright as the stage lights as she curtsied gratefully to the appreciative audience. They were roaring and cheering in praise and threw roses onto the stage. I looked up to see if father threw one, but his box was empty. In fact, he had left right in the middle of the aria. Mother had made her choice, and it was all too much for him to bear. But a rose fell down from the other box and it was a creamy snow white with a black ribbon on the stem.
I looked up. Erik was on his feet applauding, shouting at the top of his voice, "Brava, Brava! Bravissima!" His smile was wider than I had ever seen it and with a flourish, he disappeared from view. I rose from my seat and went backstage. I skipped down the hall to Mother's dressing room, ready to congratulate her, when a hand grabbed my arm. It was Meg, her eyes slightly red and her persona eerily calm. She seemed to be in a sinister fog, as if her brain was addled.
"Juliet," she said in a sweet, empty voice, "I need you to come with me. Your Mother wants to see you outside." "Oh! Um, Miss Giry, you must be confused. I was supposed to meet Mother here in her dressing room so we could go out to dinner with father and celebrate. Now, if you would please excuse me." I tried to go, but Miss Giry only tightened her grip on my arm. "Juliet, I can't have you do that. You must come with me." "No, Miss Giry I don't want to. Now, please let me go!" But her grip became like an iron clamp causing her knuckles to turn white. "I'm warning you, if you don't come with me now…" she warned. I was fed up. "No, Miss Giry! For the last time, I can't! Let me go, your hurting me!" As quick as a flash of lightning, Miss Giry pulled out a long silver pistol and jammed the barrel next to my temple.
I immediately stopped squirming the moment I felt the cold, biting steel and swiveled my eyes toward Miss Giry's hand on the gun's trigger. I hyperventilated and began to sweat while Fear's icy hand clutched me in triumph. Miss Giry came nose to nose with me, her face exuding loathing and rage. "You'll do exactly what I say, you little bitch, or my finger might just slip and the pain in your arm will seem like a tiny pinch compared with this bullet, understand?!" I nodded slightly. This seemed to calm her down and she put the gun at my back. "Good, now walk, and go where I say."
I didn't have much of a choice, so I caved in. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Miss Fleck stare after us. I only prayed silently that she'd get Mother or Erik to come help. We walked out of the theatre, out of Phantasma, and down the street, blending in with the crowd of people as the night began. Only this time, the darkness wasn't so welcoming. We finally came to a dock and Miss Giry wrenched my hand dragging me up onto a luminous deck high above the sea in her comatose state. I began to break as I saw the churning merciless water below. "Please, Miss Giry, I want to go back!" She stared at me. "I can't swim! That's one of the reasons I came to Coney Island; I wanted to learn how. Oh, Holy God, please take me back to my Mother!" But Miss Giry then began to talk absently as if in a different world and as if she could hear me, but didn't listen to the context of my words.
"Don't worry, Juliet. The sea is calm and gray." I tried to slow her down by dragging my feet, but she still pulled me along. "The water washes everything away for you. And don't worry if you can't swim, for it's almost over." She held my face and I cringed, jerking my head away. She went on, "Sink into the blue, cool, kind, deepness of it. Then drift off to sleep as the hurt is forgotten as the past is unwound." We were now at the edge and my head repeated over and over This is it, I'm going to die. Goodbye Mother, Goodbye Erik, Goodbye father. God, forgive me for going with her. And then there came a miracle: "Juliet! Juliet!" It was Mother yelling, rushing toward me with Erik beside her and Madame Giry bringing up the rear.
"Let the girl go!" Erik cried as they rushed up the deck, "Let her go now!" Meg immediately seized me by the neck and pushed me so I was leaning over the water. I grabbed the pole of a lamp to keep my balance and tried not to look down. Mother screamed and ran forward, but Meg leaned me back farther. "Not another step!" Mother retreated back and Erik stayed where he was with his hands outstretched. Meg looked at Erik with sinister triumph. "I always wondered how I could make you watch! Well, watch me now!" And she spitefully rambled on:
"You don't know what I've gone through! The only reason I came to this cold, uncaring country was because of you! I only did it because mother told me that you needed our help, so I tried to do what I could to help you reach the pinnacle of your career. I worked myself to the bone to make money so that you would have riches beyond any person's wildest dreams! But that's not how it works on Coney Island, for you have to pay for every crumb. And so, I gave whatever they would take, just for you! And I had already become Bathing Beauty on a beach! Bathing Beauty in her dressing room! Bathing Beauty in the dark, in their arms, on their laps, in their beds!" Only until I matured did I understand Meg's words; she had degraded herself by becoming a whore and resorting to prostitution. "Oh, Meg! My poor little girl!" cried Madame Giry. Apparently, this was the first Meg's mother had ever heard about this and it broke her heart.
"And who kept singing and dancing and dying up there hoping for your favor and attention so that she could be saved? I sacrificed everything for you and this is what you have given me as compensation?! And then she came," Meg spat, pointing at Mother, "and I was totally erased from your mind, wasn't I?! I had sold myself, you ignored me, you replaced me, but knowing she was the cause was the straw that broke this camel's back. So, I hope that you will never forget me after this!" And Meg pulled me up, dangled me over the sea and put the gun back against my head.
"No! Juliet!" Mother wailed. "Meg, let the girl go, please! I beg of you! For God's sake let her go!" Erik cried. And miraculously, Meg stood me back up and set me free. I rushed toward Mother, who clutched me and kissed me and rubbed my hair as if she'd never let me go. "My darling girl!" she sobbed, "Oh, my treasure!" Erik rushed over and knelt down. I turned my head and he brushed the hair from my eyes. "Are you alright?" I nodded and hugged him tight for a few seconds until he stood back up to deal with Meg. Mother tried to hug me again, but I pulled away. Severely traumatized and overwhelmingly queasy, I retched over the side of the deck. I looked back up at Erik and Meg.
"Well, now that I've got your attention at long last," Meg sobbed as she brandished the gun at Erik, "here's the big finish and then you can go!" And she held the gun under her chin with her eyes shut. "No, Meg! Don't!" screamed Madame Giry. She rushed forward, but Erik used his other arm to restrain her. He started toward Meg very slowly, his arm still outstretched. "Meg, give me the gun. Give me the hurt and the pain," he coaxed, "Give me the full blame for not seeing the things that you have done for me, Meg. Give me the gun. Give me the chance to see you clearly at last." And he began to sing and it then dawned on me.
Erik had that way of singing that wormed its way into your thoughts and rested there firmly, draining everything else away like a parasite. It wasn't just like a spell or being possessed or hypnotized; it was a call. And when you heard the call, you had to obey it. It would take a while, but you had to succumb to it or you would never forgive yourself. Well, the truth was that Erik was actually possessing people with his voice. It wasn't just a way to describe what he was doing, it was the actual way he was doing it. Mother had succumbed to it, I had succumbed to it, and now Meg would succumb to it as well. And for a while, it was working. As Erik sang, Meg gradually began to lower the gun and hand it to him.
"You feel robbed of love and pride,
Been ignored and pushed aside.
Ah, but me!
I can see all the Beauty Underneath.
You feel ugly, you feel used.
You feel broken, you feel bruised.
Even so, I still know,
There is Beauty Underneath.
Diamonds never sparkle bright
If they aren't set just right.
Beauty sometimes goes unseen,
But you can be like Christine."
And the moment Erik said "Christine," the spell broke. Meg finally had shattered at last. She scoffed. "Christine?! Oh, of course! It's always about Christine!" She flailed the gun about and it went off. There was a tense silence as we all looked around for where the bullet made its mark. And then we all saw the dark stain on Mother's stomach, blooming like a rose on her dress. There was a second as disbelieving shock hung in the air. And Mother collapsed onto the ground.
"NO!" Erik and I screamed. Meg's eyes popped and she screamed like a wounded banshee. We all rushed toward Mother. Erik grabbed her and leaned her body up against his chest and began to rock back and forth. Meg came stumbling forward exclaiming: "Christine! Oh, dear God, what have I done?! I didn't mean to! It just went off! Please, Christine, forgive me! Let me help you!" And she tried to touch Mother, but I whirled around. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!" I shrieked. "Madame Giry!" Erik cried turning toward the shocked, sobbing woman, "Get help! Quickly!" Madame Giry nodded. "Meg, come! Let's go to the police!" She grabbed Meg's wrist and they ran off.
I clutched Mother's hand. She was sweating profusely and her breath was coming out in shallow shudders. The blood stain was getting bigger each minute. Erik kissed her head and smoothed her hair feverishly, trying to soothe her to no avail. I looked wildly around. "Father! Where's father?!" I stood up to scan the crowd of people far off. "Juliet," Mother said shakily, "there's something I need to tell you." I kneeled down and looked into her eyes. "Your Father…" she began, but Erik cut her off. "Christine, no!" Mother looked into his eyes. "I know, I promised you. But you're all she has now. She has to know the truth." "Christine, please!" Erik sobbed and his voice faded as he lowered his head. Mother squeezed my hand and looked back into my face. "Juliet, your Father…your real Father…is here."
My eyes widened and I stared into Erik's face. And it all made sense: why there was music in my head, why I had an obsession with the night, why I didn't have any of father's traits in me, why Meg had chosen me specifically to target so she could get to Erik…and yet…part of me didn't want him as my Father.
Now, reader, you're probably reading this and thinking that I'm insane. I mean, Erik was the most perfect man I could have for a Father but instead I had wound up with an alcoholic gambler who I thought was my father and I would welcome my real one with open arms in ecstasy (if it weren't for Mother being shot, for feeling ecstatic at that moment would've been inappropriate). But imagine yourself in my position, whether your Father was nasty or not. You had a man with you your whole life who fed you, raised you, and clothed you. And then comes along some man who was a stranger/friend and you find out he is your real Father. Would you want to give up your "father" that easily? You see what I mean? And "father" hadn't always been that bad. I did have pleasant memories of him before the drinking started. A small part of me was still attached to those memories didn't want to let that go for all the gold in Heaven, but I knew that I would have to accept Erik as my Father or I'd have nothing.
Mother spoke to me. "Juliet, you are all each other has now. Promise me that you accept him?" The tears were pouring out of my eyes as I clutched her hand. Accepting Erik would have to be my final choice, whether I wanted it to be or not. "I promise Mother. But do you want me to find the Vicomte de Chagny and bring him here to say goodbye? I can find him, I know." Mother nodded her head. I brought my face closer to hers. "Mother, if you are…" I couldn't get the word out. "…gone when I come back, I just want you to know this: I love you so much. I have always admired you and I will try to live up to your legacy as best as I can and that's a promise. I swear it to you. I can't think of anyone else I could have for my Mother and I'm grateful. I love you, Mother." She feebly kissed my head and smiled. "I love you, too, Juliet. You are the best daughter a Mother could ask for. Now hurry, find Raoul before he leaves." And without looking back, I ran.
I dodged through the crowd of people to find father…I mean, Vicomte de Chagny. The Atlanta Queen had already moored in the harbor and I knew time was running out. Eventually, I spotted him, still in his suit with a battered suitcase. "Vicomte!" I shouted, "Vicomte!" He saw me running. "Juliet? What's the matter? And why aren't you calling me Father?" he shouted. I reached him. "You have to come with me! It's Mother!" The Vicomte's eyes froze and he turned away. "I can't come back; she's made her choice, and I must leave." And he started to walk off. "But Vicomte, you have to! Mother's been shot!" Immediately he turned around. "What?! By who?! It was that hell spawn demon, wasn't it?! I tear him limb from limb once I get my hands on him!" And he rushed forward but, I pulled him back. "It wasn't monsieur Erik, it was Meg! Mother wants to see you one last time, hurry!" The Vicomte dropped his suitcase and we ran off.
I had never run faster in my life. I kept repeating in my head: don't let her be dead when I get back, don't let her be dead when I get back, don't let her be dead when I get back! But when Vicomte de Chagny and I reached the deck, we saw that we hadn't come quickly enough; it was too late. She was dead. Erik had her body laid across his lap and was hyperventilating as his face was submerged in her hair. I burst into tears and threw myself upon Mother's skirt, never wanting to come out. But the satin creases in the dress shifted, signaling that Erik had handed Mother to the Vicomte. I looked at the man who had once been my Father through tear blotted eyes and saw a man whose life had been taken from him and he couldn't go on.
The deck began to creak. I rubbed my eyes and watched Erik walk up the deck to the edge. He stared at the hurtling fathoms below churning on and on as if the sea was the only thing that would relieve his pain. I couldn't let that happen. I stood up and silently walked over not wanting to shock him. He rested his hand on the deck's railing, but I reassuringly touched his arm. "Don't. If you're my Father, then you're all that I have left. So, don't. For if you go too, I won't be able to bear the grief." He kneeled down and gazed at Mother. He turned his gaze toward me and feebly sang:
"Love never dies
Love never falters
Once it has spoken
Love is yours
Love never fades
Love never alters
Hearts may get broken
Love endures."
This was too much for the both of us. We both broke and tightly embraced, our tears mingling with each other. Erik also kissed me on my head, and it felt like little sparks were going off on my skin. The Vicomte had never kissed me with such love or emotion when he was my father. I pushed away and put my hand on his mask. He sharply inhaled, but I gently lifted it off and the wig didn't fall off this time. I stroked that tortured face and simply said, "She really did love you. And love you too…Father."
