For those of you who have followed my other story prior to this one (Angel of Persia) please recall my love of DRAMA and misunderstandings as you continue to read this one. However, you also know I would never deny my darling Erik his happy ending. So with that in mind…..

Oh and Guest: Ginger – thank you for your kind review and your compliment. That made me smile big time!

Chapter 11

THINK OF ME FONDLY

As the following days past, Raoul remained ever vigilant over Christine. He and Meg took turns sitting at her bedside, hoping to see evidence of her awakening. It was on the third night, when Raoul sat gazing at her, that she began to stir. She became fitful, as if experiencing a bad dream. Her head turning from side to side, fighting against some terrible thought.

"No! No! Please don't," she cried out, her arms reaching for some unseen vision. "Don't do this Erik. Forgive me, I meant no harm. Erik!" On her last words, which rose to almost a scream, she sat up in bed fully awake as tears sprang to her eyes.

"Christine," Raoul said, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. "Do not fear, you are safe now. I am here." Her cry having reawakened the rage he felt for this villain. What had he done to have evoked such terror in her? What atrocities had she suffered at his hands?

Christine glanced around the room, confusion and disorientation mirrored in her eyes. Her gaze came to rest on Raoul.

"Raoul?" She asked, wondering if she was dreaming. "Where am I?"

"You are at my Villa. I have brought you here to safety.," with gentle pressure he willed her to lie back down. "Rest Christine, you have been unconscious for several days and I do not wish you to overdo yourself."

"Several Days?" Christine gasped. Her mind fought to regain the memories that temporarily eluded her. She recalled her attempted flight from Erik and her terrifying fight against the unyielding river…then there was nothing until she awoke here. Only a dream like haze with a few random recollections. Where was Erik, what had happened to him?

"Where is he?" Christine asked, grasping Raoul's hand fiercely. "Where is…?" She stopped just short of revealing his name.

Raoul, mistaking her urgency for fear, scowled.

"You mean The Phantom? This monster named Erik?" he asked, using the name she had called out in her dreams more than once.

Christine sucked in her breath, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

"You know his name? How?" She asked.

"You have called it out many times in your delirium, it was easy to deduce who it belonged to," he answered. "I also know he is no ghost as so many believe. He is a flesh and blood man and I swear that when I find him he shall suffer for what he has done."

"No!" Christine shouted, appalled at his frightening words. "You shall not harm him, not ever. He has committed no crime against me or any other."

"He stole you! Abducted is indeed an offense meriting punishment." Raoul argued.

"Not if I stayed with him of my own free will and for my safety," she pointed out. "That is how it was. He rescued me from the hands of an assassin and kept me safe, promising to return me when Carlotta's involvement in the plot against my life was discovered. He neither harmed me or held me prisoner."

"If that was the case, why is it that you were not returned on the second day?" He asked, suspicion falling across his face.

"I just told you. He said we must wait until Carlotta was discovered and it was safe. He was only concerned for my welfare, he would have informed me when the time was right."

"Then he spoke lies to you. For Carlotta has long since been gone, having disappeared the day following your abduction. You were kept not for your safety, but his own selfish motives." Raoul said coldly.

"No, Erik would not do such a thing. He would not lie to me." Christine said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh sweet Christine, you are too kind and trusting for you own good. I swear it is true, ask anyone. The plot against you was uncovered almost immediately, it would have been safe for you to have returned at once. You were being held prisoner by his lies," Raoul watched as her mind fought against the realization of Erik's betrayal. "Please Christine, do not fret over it any further. You are free now, you have my word that you will never have to suffer the sight of him again."

Oh how those words stung her heart. That had been the cause of her now flooding sorrow. The sight of him. Had she the power she would give all she possessed to take back that split second of unintentional error. To erase that look of agony and humiliation from her dear Erik's haunting eyes.

"How is it that I came to be here?" she asked quickly, wishing to know the manner of her arrival.

"He brought you to me," Raoul told her. "You were apparently a burden to him in your present state and he saw fit to abandon you, much to my infinite joy."

"You saw him then?" She questioned. "Did he say anything?"

"Very little, only threats and then he vanished. More than likely seeing it prudent to retreat in the face of my rage at his mistreatment of you."

Christine was unable to stifle her moan of sorrow, turning her head away from Raoul. Had she truly hurt him so deeply that he was now void of all feelings for her except contempt. Or worse, indifference? She could hardly blame him. First she all but destroyed his dignity by daring to look at his face, then adding insult to injury, attempting to escape. He had apparently taken pity on her and had rescued her from the river and the clutches of death, much as one might rescue a drowning spider from a pool of water. You have no love for it but you still do not wish for it to die. Christine now yearned to have died in the watery grave she had fought so hard against. The immense suffering she felt now was far worse, and she longed to slip into a blissful ignorance where this pain could not intrude.

"Please leave me Raoul," Christine asked, her voice a horse whisper over her choking sorrow. "I wish to be alone. Please, just for a while."

Raoul hesitated, but seeing no way to dissuade her, complied. Shutting the door quietly behind him.

Once alone, Christine gave way to sobs. Oh how her life had been shattered, her happiness turned into a mockery. Erik was now as a stranger to her. Could she ever regain his love? Could she even find him in order to try?

She didn't know when sleep had overtaken her but it offered no comfort. The rest of the night she was plagued by dark and foreboding

dreams, until it escalated in a sudden visions of Erik. She saw him as a child, small, helpless and alone, standing in the midst of a hazy fog. He was reaching out frantically, his eyes behind the mask were full of fear and sadness. He turned, calling out to a figure that had appeared in the distance. His childish voice already betrayed the glorious promise it held.

"Why Mother? Why don't you love me?" he beseeched the undistinguished figure.

"Because of your hideous face! Because you are a monster, you ruined my life!" A woman's voice answered cruelly.

"Please, can't you love me despite my terrible face? Please mother, love me. I am your son," he begged again, the agony in his voice giving Christine immense pain.

"I shall never claim you as a child of mine, your repulsiveness banishes you to walk through your miserable life unloved! You will never know love." With that the faceless figure vanished, leaving the crushed boy to sink to his knees as tears ran from under his mask.

"No!" He cried in defiance. "You lie! You lie! I will be loved, someone will love me despite my face. I know they will."

Suddenly in her dream Erik rose, transforming in a turn from a fragile and neglected child to the full height of the powerful and dominant man he had become. His sensual voice and almost caressing gestures seemed to draw her to him, and out of the mist Christine watched a figure of herself emerge.

"You will love me," he said, his words almost a question. "I need you to love me Christine. You are my last hope, I shall surely die of grief is you can't." She watched, unable to control the scene unfolding in her dream, as her replica advanced to Erik. He stood waiting, his arms held open in a trusting gesture, waiting for her. Then to Christine's horror, the other her reached up and tore the mask from his face. The cry of anguish that escaped his lips could have brought a mindless killer to tears. She remained transfixed as the dream Christine shrank back in horror, covering her eyes as Erik writhed in pain and agony.

"Why Christine! Why did you betray me? Why did you betray our love! Why?" he called out through the swirling mist.

Christine sat up in her bed, drenched in sweat, the room echoing the name she had apparently screamed seconds ago. Erik.

The door burst open and Raoul rushed in, followed by Meg.

"Christine, are you all right?" He asked, kneeling at her bedside as he took her trembling hand in his.

She looked at him her eyes brimming with tears.

"I have to return to him. I must find a way to reach him. He is so alone, so sad. He needs me and…" she blinked, trying to see if

Raoul understood. "…I love him." she finished, hoping those simple words would clear up any confusion that he felt.

"No!" Raoul shouted. "You don't know what you are saying," he began to pace the floor, his mind afire with bewilderment. "How has he brainwashed you, poisoned your mind till you pity his evil plight. He is a beast, he deserves only to be locked away in a cage!"

"He would die first!" Christine gasped, remembering all too well Erik's tone of voice when he had spoken of how they had imprisoned him

behind cold iron bars all those years ago. "He is not an animal, he is a man. One who is kind and gentle, and I do love him, with all my heart."

Raoul was so angry he was unable to speak. So out of complete frustration he turned and stormed out of her room.

"Oh Meg, what have I done?" Christine cried, covering her face with her hands. "I seem to be hurting everyone I care for, and I don't know how to break this hateful cycle. Meg, help me. What shall I do?"

Meg sat beside the weeping Christine, cradling her against her as she rocked her back and forth.

"Hush now. Raoul will be back, his isn't angry with you, just frightened. He has been out of his mind with worry ever since you disappeared and he is afraid for you." Meg said soothingly.

"Afraid I may have gone mad? Afraid that there could be no other possible reason for my insane confessions of love?" Christine asked, looking up at Meg.

"Well you have to admit that it is all quite sudden and not at all like you," Meg's eyes shone once more, with excitement and anticipation. "Tell me about him, tell me about your Phantom." She begged.

Christine gave a sad laugh. Tell her about him, she asked. Had Meg a few lifetimes to spare in which to hear all of her words of love? How could she describe him, the man who saw himself as only a monster yet she saw only as perfect. She could not find enough words, then she could find too many. It was like she had been given an essay to write. 'Erik in 200 words or less.' Then it came to her.

"He is my Angel of Music," she said, her face revealing a dreamlike smile. She then went on to tell Meg about their nightly singing lessons, how he had become such an expected and essential part of her life. As she spoke Meg saw that for Christine the sun rose and set in this Phantom, this man. Through her magical description, Meg began to see him not as a frightening ghost, but as gentle, devoted and real. The purity of the love that shown in Christine's eyes released Meg of any apprehension and doubt as to the loss of her sanity.

Christine's tale came to an abrupt halt after her description of the rescue by Erik from the assassin.

"That is all I am at liberty to tell, for I gave my word that I would not betray his secrets," she explained, then gave a sad look. "Yet it seems that I have already failed in that request, for Raoul knows his name by admission of my own uncontrolled lips."

"You mean Erik?" Meg asked. "You can hardly be held accountable for what you may say when unconscious."

"Then he had been far more wise than I when he insisted on blindfolding me when we dared leave his home," her smile returned again as she thought of him and his qualities. "His mind is ever keen and there seems to be nothing he doesn't know or can't do. The magic tricks, his music, and that voice that ever calms me yet at the same time excites my every sense." She ended, looking away, a blush spreading across her face .

"He sounds divine and so romantically mysterious," Meg said. "Please though…if you could…tell me what he looks like."

Christine's face grew sad, as she stared blankly at the wall.

"You wonder why he wears a mask? Why he hides, shrouded in darkness?" She looked straight at Meg, and though she saw anger burning in her kind eyes, Meg knew it wasn't directed at her. "Because the people of this world are too cruel and stupid to be able to look beyond the surface and see how beautiful he is inside. He wears it out of courtesy for those who are not worthy to lick his boots!"

So harsh were her words that Meg remained silent, waiting for Christine to calm herself. She then tried to change the subject.

"Did he give you that beautiful necklace?" Meg asked, having admired the gem since Christine's return.

Christine's hand flew to her neck in surprise. She hadn't noticed it there, yet was both confused and delighted to find it back in her possession.

"He…he must have given it back it me." She whispered, thinking aloud. Then seeing Meg's inquiring look she tried to explain. "Yes, he gave it to me, but I had lost it before he brought me back. Somehow he must have found it and gave it back, but if he found it he must have known I was telling the truth, otherwise why would he have returned it?" She then looked sad once again. "Then again he may have returned it because like me, it no longer holds any meaning for him."

"Why Christine? Why would he feel this way?" Meg asked.

"Because I have done the unthinkable, Meg. I have betrayed the trust he had given me, and now he looks upon me with eyes full of disgust. I have lost him and I don't know how to get him back."

Meg shook her head sadly at her friends predicament.

"For now there is nothing you can do, so I suggest you rest." Meg

said.

Christine was afraid to close her eyes, for though she could see the sun rising outside her window, she was frightened that the dream would return to haunt her.

"No, please just talk to me Meg, tell me anything to distract my mind. Tell me of what has been happening in my absence." She pleaded.

So Meg sat beside her and filled her head with all the latest theater gossip and news. The most important of which was how Andre and Firmin had been forced, out of the lack of a diva, to hire another singer to fill in for Christine. Her name was Jorjet and from the way Meg described her, she was just as bad, if not worse, than Carlotta.

"She is just as foul tempered and sings like a sick cow. She was hired on the recommendation of Piangi, the rumor is that they were once lovers. You should see the two on stage together, when they sing a duet it is enough to make your stomach turn." Meg make a comical face, but Christine wasn't laughing.

"They have replaced me?" She asked.

"Oh no, they would never replace you!" Meg was quick to assure her. "But the doctor said it would be almost a week before you were strong enough to perform again and they had to find someone until then. Believe me, our managers know how talented you are and they are quite anxious that you return as soon as possible," Meg glanced up at the clock and gave a startled cry. "Speaking of, I better get over to the Opera House. Rehearsals will start soon and Mother will be angry if I am late," she leaned down and kissed Christine's cheek. "Don't fret anymore, we will figure something out. Rest now and we will speak more when I return." She got to the door but Christine's words stopped her.

"Meg," she called. "You are truly a dear and understanding friend. Thank you."

"Any time Christine." Meg answered then left.

Raoul was waiting in the parlor, and ran to the foot of the stairs when Meg descended.

"Does she hate me?" He asked, his face drained of all color at the thought. "Have I turned her from me with my unthinking words.?"

Meg placed a sympathetic hand on his.

"No Raoul," she said, using his given name for the first time, but he took no notice. "In fact, Christine is worried she has enraged you. She is going through a lot of painful and confusing emotions and I suggest you try to remain calm for her. Be her lighthouse in a sea of turbulence and if she wishes to be saved she will look to you for guidance," she shook her finger at him sternly though. "and you best not berate her Phantom Erik again! There is no stronger emotion a woman can possess than when she is protecting one she loves. If you do not wish to push her further into his arms, you keep a civil tongue."

Raoul turned away in thought, he knew Meg's words to be truthful.

"I see your point, and it is well taken. To Christine I will be the model of sympathy and compassion in her plight for her Erik, but when out of her sight I shall move heaven and earth to entrap this Phantom and force him to release her from his evil spell. Christine will know happiness again, I swear it." He vowed, bringing is fist down on a small table nearby.

"Well Raoul…that isn't exactly what I had in mind," she shook her head sadly. He meant well, he only wanted to do what was best for her. One could not think too badly of him, having so assured himself that he was in the right. Meg only wished he would feel such a need to protect her from the world as he did Christine, for his misguided actions were born from love, pure and simple.

"Promise that you will keep this between only the two of us. Please Meg?" He begged, taking her hands in his.

And since Meg could deny Raoul nothing, just as Erik could refuse no request of Christine's, she complied with a silent nod.

So as Meg journeyed to the Opera House, Raoul made peace with Christine. All the while feeling justified for the small deception he was playing upon her.

After Raoul had stolen Christine from the Opera House and sabotaged any means that Erik had to watch over her, he had slipped into a dark and lonely mood. Making the journey back down to his house he all but cursed the silence that greeted him. His home, that had rung with laughter and music a few days ago, was now as quiet and cheerless as a tomb. There Erik stood, the condemned man looking upon his final and inescapable resting place.

Oh, but if only he could truly rest, for he was growing so tired. Without Christine his life once again stretched out before him like a never-ending nightmare. He stumbled mindlessly to his room and collapsed on his bed, not bothering to make any semblance of the destroyed blankets. He just slept, letting all thoughts trickle slowly from his tormented mind, and no dreams dared approach him that night.

He awoke the next morning with the sensation of something soft touching his cheek and in the split second before waking he entertained the glorious though that it may have been Christine's velvet lips. However, he didn't see Christine's beautiful blue eyes as he awoke, he instead found himself gazing into a pair of green ones. It was Midnight, cautiously standing beside him on the bed, his soft mews almost an apology for the tragedy he had unintentionally played a part in. Erik rolled over and placed the kitten on his chest, stroking his soft fur.

"You are not to blame, little one. I alone hold that sole honor. It was not my fate to possess her heart, not my destiny to possess any kind of good and pure love. She is back where she belongs…with him," Erik found that he had trouble saying Raoul's name without feeling the bile rise in his throat, threatening to gag him, so he avoided speaking it aloud if possible. "You should have seen how defiant he looked when he stood before me. Though I could have killed him with a thought, and I'm sure he knew it, the young rouge dared to ignore better judgment and didn't back down. If I didn't detest that insolent boy so much I might have actually praised him on his courage. But alas, we are destined to forever remain enemies so long as I drag a ragged breath from this body which exists only to worship Christine." He looked at the kitten who had apparently not understood a single word. "No Midnight, you are not to blame, you are just a poor animal not to be held accountable for your actions." Erik only wished Christine could find it in her heart to forgive him his animal rage as well, allowing it to give way to anything except the pity he so earnestly detested.

For the next few weeks Erik went through his daily routine like a zombie, Midnight's persistence for attention his only distraction. More times that he dared count he found himself in Christine's room, gazing at all the things which reminded him of her. Her clothes, her brush, her ribbons and perfume. Then there was her bed, where she had lay in slumber as innocent dreams of the beauty of love had come to her on the soft wings of butterflies. Then her dreams had turned into a nightmare, one she could not awaken from. He had shattered them all, one by one with his face and cruel words.

Erik tried to reconcile himself with the knowledge that she was young, that in time her scared mind would mend and she would find happiness in the arms of her handsome Vicomte. Not so for Erik… his scars would never heal, neither the ones on his face nor the ones on his crumbling heart. For that was what was happening, bit by bit she had taken pieces of it without knowing and now what remained could not find the strength to hold together without her tender help. He would soon die a broken man, yet she would not be to blame. No, not his Christine, for she was the only true innocent in this whole twisted affair. In the end they would both be free. Christine free to live and Erik free to die.

In the meantime Meg sat by Christine as they had morning tea in her room. It had been almost two weeks and from the many notes that accompanied the virtual forest of flowers the two managers had sent,

Christine knew they were growing impatient for her return. Jorjet had not drawn the crowds as hoped and they sorely missed their new found diva, not to mention the proceeds her performances would bring in.

"When will you come back?" Meg asked, as she did every day.

Christine only shrugged as she gazed at her cup of tea.

"I would have thought you would be anxious to return, all things considered…" Meg's voice trailing off, her words almost as bait, which Christine picked up on with curious interest.

"What do you mean, 'all things considered'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well it is just that if this Erik of yours loves music, I don't see any better way of getting his attention than singing," Meg pointed out.

"Erik had been my inspiration, he gave me my will to sing. I am not sure I can do it without him…and I am frightened to try," she confessed.

"Yet, if he had all this faith in you, can't you have just a little bit in yourself. For heaven's sakes, if the man found you great enough to dedicate his opera to, who are you to disagree?" Meg put her cup down and stared dreamily into space as she often did when discussing love. "I would hardly need an entire opera. If a man were to write one song for me I would just die of pure joy." She told her, giving a heavy sigh.

Christine's eyes got large, renewed hope springing forth to shine there once more.

"Meg, that is it!" She cried, jumping to her feet.

"What?" Meg inquired, quickly mopping up the tea Christine has spilled on the table in her hurry to rise.

"I shall write a song, one that will convey my love for him and sing it at the Opera. If he attends, and I pray he does, he will know once and for all how I feel. I love him, Meg and whether he still returns such feelings or not, he will hear and know mine." Grabbing Meg's hand she ran down to the parlor to the grand piano that waited there.

"How do you plan on composing an entire piece of music yourself? You don't know the first thing about writing music and I can assure you I know even less." Meg told her.

"I won't have to write a single note, my skeptical little Meg. Erik himself has already done that for me. I will just put words to his work. A bit of him, a bit of me, how can it fail?" She said, but even amid her smiles Meg saw a hint of doubt. "All I have to do now is remember how it went. I do so wish I had paid better attention to my lessons as a child." She began to pluck nervously at the keys, attempting to recreate Erik's music as he had taught it to her. The happy hours they had spent together returning to her mind. Remembering how he had patiently instructed her, praising her every success, no matter how small. This song had brought tears of joy to her eyes, she only hoped it would do so again.

The rest of the day the two girls sat at the piano as Christine diligently hunting for the right words that may sway a Phantom's heart. Long into the night Christine continued to work, Meg having given up the ghost long ago, so to speak, and went to bed. She now realized how Erik must feel when writing his opera, it was a personal thing, a labor of love in every word, one you do not wish to be disturbed during or criticized on. Her words had to wear a mask just as Erik did. It would need to seem just an ordinary song to ordinary people, but to someone who knew the hidden meaning behind the words it needed to convey a heart full of love.

She was glad that Raoul had been called away on business for the weekend for she was not sure he would have understood her obsession over this piece. He had apologized profusely and had never spoken a bad word against Erik since, but that strange gleam in his eye at the mention of his name betrayed Raoul quicker than any words could. She couldn't hate him for it though, how could she for he felt he was protecting her. If only he knew Erik as she did his views would change. Until then he was trying his best and she appreciated him for that.

The next morning Christine sent word to Monsieur Andre and Firmin that she would return and sing at the end of the week, but only if she would be permitted a special number following the performance. They of course readily agreed, willing to stand on their heads if that had been her request.

Christine worked hard to perfect her plan, as did Raoul when he learned of hers. His plan consisted of an accomplice as well, Joseph Buquet, the shifty man from the Opera House who had no qualms about crossing the Opera Ghost for a price. The managers had planned a big 'to do' for the night, all the socially correct people were invited and the gala was publicized and talked about all over town. No one did not know of the plans, including Erik deep down in his tunnels.

Christine would sing again! Erik would hear her, a delight to his ears even if he could not hold her. He knew he should probably stay away from her, try to purge her from his mind, but the gnawing at his gut would not permit it. He needed to go, he had to go…he would go. If only for a final glimpse at the heaven he had aspired to grasp but which had slipped through his fingers.

Erik donned his best opera suit, took his hat, gloves, cane, cape and a single red rose then headed for Box 5, with no idea of the plan Christine had laid out…or the one Raoul had orchestrated with equal effort.

Erik sat on the edge of his seat in the far corner of his box, out of sight from any prying eyes. From the moment she entered the stage to the moment she left, Erik was riveted. He felt like a starving man, and the sight of her was his only nourishment. Her grace, her actions and every turn of her head was like a dance that she alone could hear the music to. At the end of each scene, Erik would applaud loudly and then wait with baited breath for the next moment she would appear. Christine was beyond magnificent! She sang like an angel, his angel, and he felt a stab of jealousy at having to share her with the world that adored her so… but never so intently as he did. His love was boundless, unequaled yet sadly, unrequited.

All too soon the opera ended and the crowd burst into applause, all standing in unison as they praised Christine's performance. Erik's gaze fell on Box 2 across the way and his eyes narrowed…there was Raoul, sitting with Andre and Firmin. They were all smiling at one another, even patting each other on the back as if they had sung the opera themselves. This was Christine's triumph, not theirs, and here they were basking in the glory that was hers alone. It turned Erik's stomach and he stood to leave before he became sick.

Yet, he never reached the door because the announcement from the stage drew him back to his seat like a moth to a flame. Christine has planned a solo, one she had composed herself? Erik could not have been swayed from his chair at that moment by all the threats or entreaties in the world.

Erik watched as Christine took center stage and waited for

the orchestra to begin. When the first note was played Erik recognized the piece immediately. It was his music, in a slightly different key, a few notes out of place, but his none the less. She had given his music words as she had given him life. His heart pounded unmercifully as he waited for her to sing.

Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said good-bye. Remember me once in a while please promise me you'll try.

When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back and be free if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me.

We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea but if you can still remember, stop and think of me

Think of all the things we've shared and seen don't think about the things which might have been...

Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.

Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do , there will never be a day, when I won't think of you

We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea but please promise me that sometimes, you will think of me!

When her last note dissipated, there was a few seconds of silent awe before Christine was bombarded by thunderous applause as she received her second standing ovation that night. Yet over it all she almost dared believe she had heard Erik's voice. Of course she considered the possibility that she could have only imagined it, wishing so hard for it to be true, but she prayed silently that he had truly been in attendance, that he had understood. Would he come to her?

Erik had cheered louder than anyone, risking discovery by his boisterous display, but he couldn't have cared less. He had called out 'Bravi, Bravi, Bravissimi' while he applauded enthusiastically, his heart all but bursting with pride for his lovely Christine. Tonight she had sang for him, he was sure of it. Her words had touched his lonely heart, renewing his hope that there may yet be a chance for them.

Dare he believe what his mind had deciphered from her song? How could he know for sure? He was afraid to go to her for if she were to reject him again, face to face, there would be no hope of his recovery from such a fatal blow. No, he would instead write her a note, leave it in her dressing room and hope for the best. It would be safer that way.

So Erik made his way from Box 5 through the secret passages to stand once again behind Christine's mirror. Taking a pen in his shaking hand he wrote her a note, one that would either set him free or seal his fate. It was all up to her now, he only prayed that he had not read too much into her song, that he wasn't just deceiving himself. When he was finished he slipped into her room, laying his note and the rose on her dressing table, then left, retracing his steps down into his home. If she indeed cared for him he would see her soon enough. If she didn't, he couldn't bear to watch as she read the note, possibly laughing at his misguided hopes.

Soooo, what do you think?

How was Christine's reaction when she woke up?

Her and Meg's talk?

Raoul and all his 'brilliant' ideas?

Erik's musings?

Christine's big idea to sing for him?

And now what do you think will happen with the note and rose?

OHHH, by the way...if you are looking for a new and exciting story to read - go check out the new one by

Phan3145 called
"Ideas are Bullet Proof"

So far it is VERY good and I think you will all like her Erik very much!