Rating: K+
By Ravenseye131
Truly whoever said the apple doth not fall far from the tree obviously knew exactly of what they were speaking. In the six years that my son Gabriel has been alive he has followed nearly every step in his Papa's shadow. I remember that snowy winter's day when his screams filled my ears and the midwife proclaimed, 'It's a boy!' I recall how Erik came in trembling with fear and excitement, how his eyes filled inexplicable joy as he was handed our new babe and found him to be a perfect little godsend. I remember the feeling of weakness and darkness reaching up within me. How I smiled and whispered Gabriel, how the look of joy upon my beloved husband's face fell, how the edges of my vision became blurred, how the doctors came rushing in…their voices so loud, so faded. The screams of agony of my child and the hopeless cries of my name from my Erik. I remember feeling like I was floating…then blinding darkness…then days later I saw my beloved again. He wept at a grave, my grave, the helpless forms of Antoinette and Meg Giry standing not far off, the younger of the two holding Gabriel as they too wept. I found myself angry, 'Why?' I argued often with myself. I suppose that's why I remain tied to my husband and child, unable to move onward due to my own stubbornness. Perhaps also because my own selfish desire to journey into the next world hand in hand with my Angel of Music. Whatever the reason I am standing here, I find myself incapable of complaining. I am dead, yes, but Gabriel is alive as is Erik. So long as they are together and happy they need never know that La Daae, Le Phantomess de la Opera, 'Beloved Wife and Mother' or just plain Christine is guarding and watching over them.
EndA/N: I felt like a first-person work for once, thus came this. Please review luvs! ;P