Chapter Twenty: (Hope)

Christine opened her eyes to frantic knocks on her door.

She yawned and stretched as she called out, "I'm coming. I'm coming."

Silently she mumbled to herself in irritation. It was five in the morning and she could still get two more good hours of sleep since rehearsals didn't start till eight.

Christine pulled herself up from the bed. The red rose fell to the ground and caught her attention. She lifted it up in her hands and smiled as she hid it in one of the drawers of her vanity table.

The knocking continued.

"Christine! Open this door right now!" Madame Giry ordered.

"Just one minute!"

Christine put on her robe and opened the door. Madame Giry looked frantic.

"Meg is not in her room. I thought she might be with you," Madame said.

"No… No, Meg did not come here," Christine replied worriedly.

Madame Giry buried her face in her hands for a moment. She took a deep breath and then looked back up at Christine, her stern eyes filled with anxiety.

"Where can she be?" Madame exclaimed desperately.

Christine could see the fear and the worry in Madame Giry's usually cold demeanor. Christine herself felt a rush of fear leap to her heart.

"M-maybe she's in the theater?" Christine whispered while biting her lower lip and hoping against hope that her assumption was correct.

Madame Giry looked confused.

"Why would she be in the theater? And now?"

Madame sighed and continued in defeat, her voice wavering a little, "But I'll go check there. Maybe you're right…God… I hope you're right, Christine."

"I'll come with you," Christine said.

There she was, twirling around, dancing like an angel, to the distant melodies that were being echoed in the silence of the Opera House. She looked like a vision in the dark, swaying to the tunes of a ghost, on that vast, luxurious, empty stage, a beautiful maiden, bathed by the dim light of the blooming dawn.

Madame Giry's face relaxed and lit up. She let out a sigh of relief. A smile graced Christine's face at the sight of her friend. She had been so worried for her these past two weeks. Now it seemed as if the nightmare was over.

Madame Giry walked up to Meg and said with a frown on her face, "Ma Cherie, what are you doing? The doctor said that you need more rest."

"I'm fine, Maman. I've had enough rest to last me a lifetime. I want to dance," Meg replied with a smile.

Meg twirled happily as she continued with glee, "I just want to dance."

She moved past her mother, looking at Christine for a split second, before twirling away from her.

"Good morning, Christine!" Meg said casually.

Christine chuckled and replied, "Good morning, Meg."

Madame Giry smiled, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, while watching her daughter. She had recovered at last; her daughter was back. Meg was completely out of her shocked state now and Madame Giry's heart was overwhelmed with joy. Those past two weeks had been hell for her, although she had always tried to put on a strong front.

Those past two weeks had been hell on all of them as each had battled with their own demons.

Madame Giry looked at Christine.

"I'm sorry, my dear, if I woke you. It's just that, when I didn't find Meg in her room, I panicked and thought that maybe she would be with you, since you two are the best of friends," Madame said apologetically.

Christine smiled.

"It's fine, Madame. There's no need to apologize," she replied softly.

Madame Giry stood there for a few more minutes watching. Meg swayed and twirled in complete harmony with the music, the soft edges of her thin nightgown flowing ever so gracefully around her ankles.

All three women knew the source of those ethereal tunes that echoed ever so gently all around them.

With a smile, Christine walked up to Meg and held her hand, joining in the dance as both girls giggled and twirled ever so gracefully and beautifully.

They danced in their nightgowns, just like the old days, the days of chorus girls and ballet rats, when both women were not stars but dreaming children… they would sneak out at the early hours of dawn, two innocent little girls, to dance to the soft rays of the light in silent welcome to the day.

Without warning, Madame Giry joined in as well, dancing as she used to do, once upon a time, a long time ago, before the knee injury that had caused her to be content with the role of ballet instructor instead of Prima Ballerina.

The three of them smiled widely and swayed gracefully to the music that Erik was playing.

They embraced the dawn and danced to its tunes… the tunes of hope.

Erik played and played throughout the dawn. He felt the gentle light gleaming inside his tired soul, beaming with hope of a future and a lifetime of love.

The music was the cure.

It was healing him and raising him from the pits of darkness and into the arms of the light, just as it had healed Meg, Madame Giry, and Christine.

Erik played, not knowing that the three women he cared most for were dancing to his tunes, feeling happy and peaceful beyond words.

Erik played and played as his soul soared with every note.

And they danced to the music as they welcomed the dawn into their lives.

That day was a new beginning for Erik, Christine, Madame Giry and Meg. Hope filled their tired souls and shone through the darkened skies.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Six in the morning, Christine walked back to her room, leaving Madame Giry and Meg to embrace after their long dance of hope, peace and joy was over.

Christine opened the door to her room and walked in, a bright smile drawn on her face.

As she turned around to go take a bath, something caught her attention. Christine saw a big square-shaped package placed gently by the wall just underneath the window. She walked cautiously and curiously toward it. A small white envelope was placed on top of the package.

She raised the white envelope in her hands; it was not sealed. Three words were written on the outside: "To my angel"

She took out the paper from inside the envelope, ever so gently and carefully, and began to read.

"This is why I was late last night. You looked so beautiful.

I remain your obedient servant, Erik"

This time Erik had not signed it with his usual O.G initials. No, with Christine, he was just Erik.

Christine carried the package and softly laid it on the bed. Then she opened it enthusiastically.

There it was - a beautiful painting of her sitting by her vanity table, wearing the blue nightgown, when she had waited for Erik the night before.

Erik had captured her essence as she had stared at the mirror of her vanity, her brown curly hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. Her eyes had a gleam in them. At the bottom of the painting, written with golden letters, were the words: "Goddess of beauty, my angel, my Christine"

Christine's heart fluttered with joy, words could not express how much that painting meant to her.

Yes, to her that painting was the best gift she had ever received from anyone; its worth was priceless. Christine put the portrait in her closet, in a safe place where nothing could harm it.

Silently, she imagined that portrait hanging in their new home, in their room, an eternal token of love.

Christine sighed dreamily.

x-x-x-x-x-x

"It's amazing, isn't it? How hope seems to spring out of nowhere, to fill one's soul with beauty and joy.

Hope filled me that day…that night.

I had thought that I had lost Erik once again. But he came back to me, and out of the darkness of his being, after two long, torturous weeks. That night he had restored my hope, my joy, my peace, my existence.

Madame Giry had thought that she had lost her daughter. But that night, Meg was healed as well.

Yes, hope bloomed once again… Hope, born of a tune… Hope, cradled in a dance… Hope, kissed by a portrait…"

Christine's diary