Chapter 11: Destroyed

When Antoinette reached the main floor, she was horrified. The Opera house had been the only home she ever loved. Everything was ruined, charred, soggy, and moldy. Below ground, she had not realized the extent of the damage. When she led Raoul down the fire had not spread too far and she had never been back up after that. As she walked around she saw that nothing had been spared. The stone and metal that had not burned was black with smoke residue. Still there was one thing she hoped had survived.

Carefully she picked her way through the debris to her room. Inside it looked a lot like the rest of the opera house. Her bed and couch were completely destroyed which was too bad because they had been very comfortable. The worst thing was that her pointe shoes were all destroyed, and she had kept every pair she ever owned in this room. However, what she was searching for was much more likely to have survived the fire.

She plowed through the debris to her dresser, and found what she was looking for. Her jewelry box was only charred, so she lifted the lid off. Some of the costume jewelry had melted, but anything expensive had survived. She put the few nice things she had in her bag before lifting out the top.

She sighed in relief; it was still there. She might have forgotten it, but a dream had reminded her. Smiling, she lifted Erik's necklace from the ruined box. Attempted to rub it clean on the hem of her dress, but it would need a true polishing before it would shine. Using her sooty mirror to see, she hooked it around her neck. When she centered the heart pendant with her hand, she paused.

She spotted her wedding band in the mirror and asked herself why she still wore it. Officially she was still married, but there was no reason to wear this constant reminder. The only reminder of that marriage she wanted was Meg. With some difficulty she pulled the ring from her finger and placed it on her dresser. Then she left the room, leaving it behind.

She knew she should leave and go find Meg, but she went to the theater anyways. Although she could not practically exit through the theatre, she still felt that she needed to go there for some reason. So she navigated the debris once again to a side door to the house. When she entered the theatre tears began to fall down her cheeks. All the lights on the stage had caused it to burn completely. The curtains and wings were gone and all scenery had been reduced to ash. The shattered chandelier still rested draped over the orchestra pit. In all the filth and destruction of the room it still caught the grey light of dawn and the fire of her torch and through them back at her. It was a gleaming reminder that Erik had been the one to destroy her house and the stage that had given both her and Meg a home and happiness.

However the stage floor remained, covered in ash and rubble in places, but still calling. It was lonely; it would never hold a performance again. She was lost; she had no home. So she climbed the stairs to the stage and removed her shoes. She placed her bundle of clothes in the corner by the stairs and put her shoes and lantern next to them.

She stood in the middle of the stage and gently settled her feet into fifth position. Her knees and hips protested but she ignored them. She closed her eyes, imagining the theater was still beautiful and she was still young. Slowly, but strongly she began her favorite tondue combination. It was very basic, but graceful, and also all she could manage in her dress. Just as she completed the right side and did the rond de jambe to start to the left, she heard a door squeak open. She opened her eyes just in time to see someone fall through a side door, which was blocked with debris. The person stood up and dusted herself off.

She had on mismatched clothes; the top was too large and the bottoms too small. Her long blonde hair was tussled and dirty from her fall but still very bright. Antoinette's mouth hung open. It couldn't be Meg; the coincidence was impossible. Still, from this distance, the young woman looked exactly like her daughter. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her because she had missed her daughter for so long. However, Antoinette decided there was no harm in checking. "Meg?" she called out as loudly as she could.

The woman looked back at her suddenly and Antoinette knew it was Meg. "Mother?" Meg called back incredulously. She stared for a moment but as soon as she was certain it was her mother, Meg practically sprinted up the aisle to the stage. As soon as she reached her she threw her arms around her mother in a crushing hug.

"Where have you been?!" demanded Meg as soon as she broke the hug.

Antoinette sighed; she was not looking forward to trying to explain everything to her daughter. However, she knew the truth was the best thing to tell her. "Here," she replied simply.

"What?! Why? What about your note? Christine told me he was still alive, but still how–"

"I think it's best I explain once everyone is all together. It is a long story"

xxx