A/N: Another short chapter - and since I've run out of brilliant comments to make, I'm going to end my author's notes here.

Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are appreciated!


Chapter 9 - Memories

Bemused, I followed him from the room, and down a long, wide corridor.

"Where...where are we going?" I asked hesitantly.

"You'll see." His voice was amused.

A door on the right side of the corridor opened, and he paused in front of you.

"After you, Mademoiselle," he said mockingly. I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from uttering a cutting retort – something about it being too late for him to pretend to be a gentleman – and entered the room.

I froze.

"Do you like it?" whispered Erik's voice, from just above my ear. I turned to face him, and smiled brightly.

"How dare you?" I asked, my harsh voice a sharp contrast to my wide smile.

"How dare you!?"

I sank to the ground and curled myself into a ball, rocking slowly. His sigh came from above me, and then I heard a slight thud as he knelt before me.

"This, Christine Elizabeth Daaé, is the reason you are here," Erik told me, his voice gentle but unemotional.

Indifferent, almost.

The way he said those words, coupled with my full name, made it sound like a prison sentence…

I stayed curled up for a while, continuing to rock, and I could feel his presence in front of me the whole time, waiting patiently…

Inexorably…

Finally, I forced myself to let go of my knees, and moving back, I sat cross-legged before him, trying not to meet his intense gaze.

"Where…did you get all of this stuff?" I mumbled finally – anything to stop me from breaking down in front of my captor.

Erik stood, and walked around the room. My eyes followed him as he went to the small, familiar 14-inch viola lying on a table, picking it up gently.

"Don't you remember when this went missing?" I frowned, trying to think. I'd locked it away after the…incident…and I hadn't troubled to look for it after that…

I shook my head – and though I couldn't see his expression, I noticed the sadness inexplicably appearing in his eyes.

"Why do you have all of this stuff?" I demanded, and he laughed – bitterly discordant, the harsh sound made me want to block my ears – though thankfully he stopped quickly.

"This is a beautiful instrument, Christine," he commented dispassionately. "Slightly small, perhaps, but beautiful – your parents must have had a lot of musical knowledge to have been able to pick this instrument out – and a keen interest in your musical education…"

"Be quiet," I said softly.

"…But then," he continued as if he hadn't heard me, "they were quite talented in their own right…"

"Be…quiet." I said louder, with more force.

"…It really is a shame that they died the way they-"

"SHUT UP!!"

My scream was hoarse, but I wasn't crying – a small mercy. I buried my head in my knees – if I listened to him speak anymore I would go mad!

A hand brushed my hair softly, and I looked up at him warily, hoping he had finally finished speaking.

"You gave it all away, Christine…" Erik sighed, a musically beautiful sound of regret.

He walked back to the table to place the viola down, and came back to me. I flinched involuntarily before recovering myself quickly, though he seemed not to notice.

"There will be time for that later…Come – you must be hungry."

I ignored the black-gloved hand he offered politely to me, instead using my hands to push off the floor. He didn't seem offended though, simply walking out of the room.

As I followed, I refused to yield to my inner urge to look back at that place – that room which somehow had been turned into a memory of my best-forgotten past.

I didn't look back.

After all, I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry…


So...what did you think...?

Aah...I'm so sleepy...

Anyhow, I (as stated before) hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you review...um...I'll loan you Erik? (Obviously only for a short time - he tends to ruin houses, have insane fits of...insanity, and kill his cat accidentally.)