Disclaimer: Ok, Ok. *puts hands up* I stole em! I STOLE EM ALL!
*bursts out into maniacal laughter* AND YOU CAN'T DO 'NUTTIN ABOUT IT!!
BWAHAHAHAA!!! *is dragged away by nutso-police*
To Everyone:
Thanks so much for your reviews! I have yet to decide what will happen in the end. Though it may seem E/C, I am still in a period of indecision. I would really enjoy it if more of you reviewed! It is my inspiration!! Tehe, just thought I'd mention that you guys are also very COOL!! lol
My Notes: Well, here goes the forth chapter. Wow!! It's been four chaps already!! This one involves a bit of mystery, so beware! lol There will be a song included in the middle of this chapter, which I've already posted a verse of earlier before one of my chaps (Chapter 2: Evanescence 'Taking Over Me', which *blush* I mis-named as 'Imaginary' *blush*). It may not entirely fit the story, but there are parts where it indefinitely reflects the emotions of Christine in that singular moment. :) Well, not much else to say about it, as I'm not entirely sure yet what is going to happen! lol So, here goes!!
Chapter Four: Missing
Erik gazed at the pitiful remains of his room, his breath caught in his throat in pitying shock as he realized just how much damage had been done. Everything. Everything was... gone. Right down to his last sheet of precious music. All that once meant the world to him, the very little he had to enjoy in life, had all been torn from him in one night. No... Since he'd met her, everything had been diminishing. He was more pathetic than those who hated him. His weaknesses lied within that which he craved the most.
A single fingertip grazed the blackened plank-like wood piece that was the very last bit of what was left of his organ. The keys were dislodged, the foot pedals broken in half, the wood scorched and burned, and everything that had made it beautiful ruined. Even the music. Erik tried once more to revive the sound in it that once was. As if the more he prodded it and hoped, it would eventually come back to its normal state. But no... It wasn't possible. The instrument that had expressed his wildest and most profound of emotions was now dilapidated.
A long moan escaped him as he sank to his knees before the ugly image of what once had been. His home! The only place he ever found refuge from the bitter cold of the world above! It existed no longer. A pain-stricken expression filled his face. He had not wept since the incident. He had not allowed it. And he insisted on never giving up this stubbornness. Yet, stuffing his emotions had been the worst possible thing he could have ever decided upon. Long ago he'd learned that with the harboring of emotions so deep came an indefinite consequence. But what does one do with his feelings when he cannot keep them to himself? Let them take over? Allow them to destroy him as time nourishes them to grow deeper and take root in ones soul? Or is it best to accept the reality that it will inevitably gnaw away at the core of the victim and consume them from the inside out?
Erik had only known agony. There was no rest for the weary, he had heard someone say to him long ago. This was true. He was living out this truth day to day. Exhausted as his body and mind were of being cast into fire after torturous fire, he never could rest. Never was he able to enjoy a blessing without a curse ensuing.
Christine had been a blessing....
And then he had cursed himself....
What an irony...
...And he began to laugh. Quietly, first, and then maniacally. He could not cry, why not laugh? Why not be just like the others who knew his dastardly story? Why not laugh at his disgusting existence? Why not??
Nadir walked languidly along the city streets of Paris that lead from the Opera House to various destinations. He really wasn't going anywhere, necessarily. This adventure was only to clear his mind and get away from the ever present depression in Erik's dark eyes. He felt sympathy for the man, but never could he empathize with what the renowned Opera Ghost was facing, had faced. It was all very foreign to him. Oh, no. Pain was surely a consistent companion of his. Emotional distress was always at his heels. He'd known what it was to be tortured, to be shut out from the light of the sky. But what was it to be -Erik-? What was it like to feel as he did? To have experienced all forms of evil and treachery by such a terribly young age, and to have to live with it for the rest of his life? The Persian had been given a childhood, free of any regret. No, he could definitely say that his boyhood was a joyous one, and that it had been the best of his years. But Erik had nothing to look back upon and thank Ala for. He had emptiness, darkness, and occasional serenity, though filled with loneliness. That was nothing to be grateful for. No wonder the man had such a temper and was so easily angered. What else was there for him to feel anymore? Certainly he'd tried to feel love, but the ending to that journey was a sour one.
A sigh escaped the Persian man and he looked down at his feet as he continued to walk, his hands resting comfortably in the pockets of his long, trench-like coat. No, nothing could help Erik now. Nothing could be given him except pain.
A sharp yelp was heard from down the street. At first, it had sounded like a cat, or perhaps a young dog, but then, the more the sounds came, the more human they appeared to the ear.
"What's this?" he mumbled to himself, quickening his pace as he made his way down the street.
Nothing could be seen yet, but he perceived more voices than the one he'd heard before. There were men, and women, surrounding this singular voice that was so familiar...
Who? Who could be in danger?
Instantly his fast walk became a sprint and he turned a few sharp corners before entirely reaching the scene. It was a gory one. A vision full of horror. There, on the ground, in a pool of blood, lay a girl. She was only perhaps 16, but her clothing spoke of a womanly career. She was thinly dressed, her once dirty-white garments now a crimson red. Her hair was black. So black that it blended in with the shadows surrounding her and he at first hadn't realized she had any. Her lips matched that of the dresses new, more profound color and her cheeks were flushed. She looked as if she had been running a deathly fever for quite sometime. The surrounding people instantly came to her aid, turning her over to feel a pulse.
"Faint, but still there." one man remarked, obviously a doctor by the way he was dressed.
Apparently he'd only just come from his office, intent on a good night's rest before the morrow. But a doctor's work is never done.
After a few short moments, it was declared that indeed, the girl was dead. But the yelps, or more like wailing that had been heard really hadn't been the child. It had been something else... Whatever it was, it was certainly making it loudly. Nadir was genuinely curious at this point, and decided to pursue the noise. Taking his time, he walked slowly toward the alley, growing closer and closer to the wailing. Suddenly, he stepped on something of a different texture than the ground. A blanket? What was this... He knelt down stiffly, his joints not being what they'd used to be in his younger days, and with a slight grunt stood again to his feet to examine the now dirtied, white linen.
He brought it to his nostrils.
"Smells sweet... Like..." he turned to see a small bundle wiggling and squirming while also crying, "A baby..."
He wrapped the blanket into a ball and pocketed it before leaning down hurriedly to lift the little baby into his arms.
"Hush, hush..." he shushed the child, rocking it gently, "Where did you come from?"
It was then that his question was answered by assumption. A splotch of rose red had been found at one of the corners of the blanket. He turned his head to yet again take in the horrific sight of the girl, who was now being laid upon a stretcher and taken away. Someone had had the right idea and went to call for an ambulance. He again looked down at the baby.
"Your mother... Is the girl..." he whispered, shaking his head, "What a tragedy."
Finding it against all of his strong-standing morals to leave the baby alone or with anyone else, trusting himself more than he did the surrounding crowd, he decided it was his job to do the right thing and take the child home. At least, until he could find a home for him.
Christine sighed, sinking down to her knees at the coffin.
"Empty... Why would it be empty?" she breathed as a fingertip went to explore the smooth gold lining of the coffin's edge.
What had possessed Erik to leave? Had he gone to die somewhere else? The very thought that he would even choose to live out his last moments alone gave her an ill feeling in her stomach. Oh, Lord. Please, don't let it be. Don't let it be... I need to see him, once more, at least... My heart. Oh, my heart! Christine grasped at the cloth covering the area of skin where her heart was concealed, though she was sure that its beating could be seen through her chest. Her eyes closed tight as two despairing tears splattered on the ground and turned into several small droplets.
The storm outside could be heard, even in the lowest of cellars where his lonesome home resided. It still stood tall, even despite the damage that had been done. Nearly burned down, everything was destroyed. Christine could not help but shed many disappointed tears as she examined the awful terror the mob had wreaked on Erik's only safe haven. The place where her adventures full of darkness and splendor had been forged was now not even close to the black kingdom it once had been. The place she had once admired and many times been very curious about. Now nothing was as it had been. Not a single thing.
Christine let out a small groan as she stood, her hands tightly holding one another in front of her. She wasn't sure what to think, what to do. Now that he was gone... Oh, what wretched horrors had befallen her and this fallen Angel.
"Why, Erik? Why run away only to die in abandonment?"
Her voice spoke to the silence that was still so very unresponsive.
Abandonment... Abandoning.... Abandon....
Forsake...
"Take her and go, monsieur le Vicomte. Leave and never come back..."
"I won't let you leave me..."
"Precious words, those are. The first of that kind I've ever heard."
"I want to understand you more, Erik. Yet, I am not sure how to start."
"My face, Christine...."
Raoul slowly approached her and took her hand in his, stroking her cheek, "We must go, now, Christine... It is the only way."
"No!"
....."It has always been a hindrance to me. A curse. An immortal burden."
"Erik, please! I entreat you!"...
"This... Is precisely the reason why you will never understand or have the ability to love me, Christine."
..."Do not forsake me like this!"
"He came to me, remember? Whispering something in my ear and handing me a small trinket of sorts."
"Yes, I recall."
"This, my dear, is what he gave me to give you."
"Oh, Erik..."
One would almost think, on instinct entirely, that he was leaving them. But instead, he stopped in front of the Vicomte and handed him something small before whispering in his ear.
"His ring..."
"Christine, he wanted you to keep this, as a promise to him."
"I am ready, Erik..."
"...not everything you want will, or should come true. It is time to face reality."
"Lord, if this is my destiny, let me be strong and do what is right..."
Christine wildly pounded the coffin lid with her fists, making an unearthly noise that was half way between screeching and sobbing. She had to find him. She couldn't lose him....
"You don't remember me,
But I remember you,
I lie awake and try so hard,
Not to think of you,
But who can decide what they dream?
And dream I do...
I believe in you,
I'll give up everything just to find you,
I have to be with you to live to breathe,
You're taking over me,
Have you forgotten all I know and we had?
You saw me mourning my love for you,
And touched my hand,
I knew you loved me then,
I believe in you,
I'll give up everything just to find you,
I have to be with you to live to breathe,
You're taking over me,
I look in the mirror and see your face,
If I look deep enough,
So many things inside that are just like you,
Are taking over,
I believe in you,
I'll give up everything just to find you....
I have to be with you,
To live...
To breathe...
You're taking over me....."
Christine's hands flew to her eyes to cover her face. Wretched madness! Why the torture??
A baby's cry interrupted her own tears.
"A child...?" she whispered to herself, instantaneously calm.
"Yes." a low voice replied, "Hush now, little one. You are safe."
A small coo was heard in reply.
"Nadir!" a gasp filled Christine's lungs and she turned around quicker than lightning, "Erik. Where is he?"
"You've... come back for him?" Nadir inquired as a smile slowly coming to his lips.
Christine copied this smile, hoping that this meant good news, "Yes." she grinned, a sense of relief filling her.
"Are you.. certain."
"Positive, Nadir. I miss him so much..."
"You've been crying..." the Persian man supported the little boy in one arm while wiping away a few of her tears in a fatherly fashion.
"Yes..." and screaming.
"Did he not come out? He of all people should know when you..." Nadir paused, "How long have you been here?"
"At the very least a half of an hour." Christine replied, unsure of what to read from the inquisitive expression on his face.
Her fingers twisted one another subconsciously as her worries began to brew yet again.
"Throwing a mad fit like you have... eh?"
Christine nodded with a large swallow, "W-why?"
Nadir gently handed her the child who instantly grew quiet in the arms of a woman. Her eyes never left the Persian for a moment, a strange, chilling fear racing through her. As he checked the room, his gestures became slower and more discouraged.
"My God, Erik. What now..."
He stepped into the darkness of the quarters and searched around, calling his name until it was evident that he no longer resided in the room.
"Christine." Nadir appeared from the black doorway and sighed waveringly, "He is not there."
Suddenly, his eyes caught a paper in the coffin which she had missed and he leant down to retrieve it while she nervously bounced the baby, half to calm him and half to calm herself. She nuzzled cheeks with the little boy, looking for comfort of some sort, any sort.
"What... does it say?"
Nadir read over it several times, trying to make sense of it, then repeated them aloud, "Forgive me, time is of the essence. And as it is, I have very little left. If she returns, and I will assume you know of whom I speak without needing a precise name, give her the little jade colored box with the grasshopper and the scorpion. Inside will be something very special for her. Erik."
Their eyes met, her own becoming overflowed with salty tears, "Here..." she paused to sob, "Take the boy. I cannot hold him while I am falling apart like this..."
Brushing away her tears with her thumb she allowed Nadir to receive the baby again.
"Where do you think... he's gone?" she murmured, staring at the empty fireplace with her arms wrapped around herself.
The position gave her a forlorn look, and the naiveté of a child which had plagued her features before shown through. She was once again the girl she had been. Reduced back to something so small in so short a time... Nadir wondered just what might be going through her mind at that moment.
"Some place of significance." he replied solemnly, "I am sorry, Christine..."
"Don't be." she bitterly hissed, "I don't need anyone's pity. I've had far too much of it for my stomach to handle any longer."
She then whirled upon him and in a half-rage threw down the ring so hard, it left a mark in the already scathed wood of the floor.
"He left me this time. His loss. His decision..."
Christine then was gone, and the baby again started to cry.
((Ok everyone!! Please read and review!! If you review quickly, I'll try to have another chapter up TODAY!! lol I'm in such a good writing mood!!))
To Everyone:
Thanks so much for your reviews! I have yet to decide what will happen in the end. Though it may seem E/C, I am still in a period of indecision. I would really enjoy it if more of you reviewed! It is my inspiration!! Tehe, just thought I'd mention that you guys are also very COOL!! lol
My Notes: Well, here goes the forth chapter. Wow!! It's been four chaps already!! This one involves a bit of mystery, so beware! lol There will be a song included in the middle of this chapter, which I've already posted a verse of earlier before one of my chaps (Chapter 2: Evanescence 'Taking Over Me', which *blush* I mis-named as 'Imaginary' *blush*). It may not entirely fit the story, but there are parts where it indefinitely reflects the emotions of Christine in that singular moment. :) Well, not much else to say about it, as I'm not entirely sure yet what is going to happen! lol So, here goes!!
Chapter Four: Missing
Erik gazed at the pitiful remains of his room, his breath caught in his throat in pitying shock as he realized just how much damage had been done. Everything. Everything was... gone. Right down to his last sheet of precious music. All that once meant the world to him, the very little he had to enjoy in life, had all been torn from him in one night. No... Since he'd met her, everything had been diminishing. He was more pathetic than those who hated him. His weaknesses lied within that which he craved the most.
A single fingertip grazed the blackened plank-like wood piece that was the very last bit of what was left of his organ. The keys were dislodged, the foot pedals broken in half, the wood scorched and burned, and everything that had made it beautiful ruined. Even the music. Erik tried once more to revive the sound in it that once was. As if the more he prodded it and hoped, it would eventually come back to its normal state. But no... It wasn't possible. The instrument that had expressed his wildest and most profound of emotions was now dilapidated.
A long moan escaped him as he sank to his knees before the ugly image of what once had been. His home! The only place he ever found refuge from the bitter cold of the world above! It existed no longer. A pain-stricken expression filled his face. He had not wept since the incident. He had not allowed it. And he insisted on never giving up this stubbornness. Yet, stuffing his emotions had been the worst possible thing he could have ever decided upon. Long ago he'd learned that with the harboring of emotions so deep came an indefinite consequence. But what does one do with his feelings when he cannot keep them to himself? Let them take over? Allow them to destroy him as time nourishes them to grow deeper and take root in ones soul? Or is it best to accept the reality that it will inevitably gnaw away at the core of the victim and consume them from the inside out?
Erik had only known agony. There was no rest for the weary, he had heard someone say to him long ago. This was true. He was living out this truth day to day. Exhausted as his body and mind were of being cast into fire after torturous fire, he never could rest. Never was he able to enjoy a blessing without a curse ensuing.
Christine had been a blessing....
And then he had cursed himself....
What an irony...
...And he began to laugh. Quietly, first, and then maniacally. He could not cry, why not laugh? Why not be just like the others who knew his dastardly story? Why not laugh at his disgusting existence? Why not??
Nadir walked languidly along the city streets of Paris that lead from the Opera House to various destinations. He really wasn't going anywhere, necessarily. This adventure was only to clear his mind and get away from the ever present depression in Erik's dark eyes. He felt sympathy for the man, but never could he empathize with what the renowned Opera Ghost was facing, had faced. It was all very foreign to him. Oh, no. Pain was surely a consistent companion of his. Emotional distress was always at his heels. He'd known what it was to be tortured, to be shut out from the light of the sky. But what was it to be -Erik-? What was it like to feel as he did? To have experienced all forms of evil and treachery by such a terribly young age, and to have to live with it for the rest of his life? The Persian had been given a childhood, free of any regret. No, he could definitely say that his boyhood was a joyous one, and that it had been the best of his years. But Erik had nothing to look back upon and thank Ala for. He had emptiness, darkness, and occasional serenity, though filled with loneliness. That was nothing to be grateful for. No wonder the man had such a temper and was so easily angered. What else was there for him to feel anymore? Certainly he'd tried to feel love, but the ending to that journey was a sour one.
A sigh escaped the Persian man and he looked down at his feet as he continued to walk, his hands resting comfortably in the pockets of his long, trench-like coat. No, nothing could help Erik now. Nothing could be given him except pain.
A sharp yelp was heard from down the street. At first, it had sounded like a cat, or perhaps a young dog, but then, the more the sounds came, the more human they appeared to the ear.
"What's this?" he mumbled to himself, quickening his pace as he made his way down the street.
Nothing could be seen yet, but he perceived more voices than the one he'd heard before. There were men, and women, surrounding this singular voice that was so familiar...
Who? Who could be in danger?
Instantly his fast walk became a sprint and he turned a few sharp corners before entirely reaching the scene. It was a gory one. A vision full of horror. There, on the ground, in a pool of blood, lay a girl. She was only perhaps 16, but her clothing spoke of a womanly career. She was thinly dressed, her once dirty-white garments now a crimson red. Her hair was black. So black that it blended in with the shadows surrounding her and he at first hadn't realized she had any. Her lips matched that of the dresses new, more profound color and her cheeks were flushed. She looked as if she had been running a deathly fever for quite sometime. The surrounding people instantly came to her aid, turning her over to feel a pulse.
"Faint, but still there." one man remarked, obviously a doctor by the way he was dressed.
Apparently he'd only just come from his office, intent on a good night's rest before the morrow. But a doctor's work is never done.
After a few short moments, it was declared that indeed, the girl was dead. But the yelps, or more like wailing that had been heard really hadn't been the child. It had been something else... Whatever it was, it was certainly making it loudly. Nadir was genuinely curious at this point, and decided to pursue the noise. Taking his time, he walked slowly toward the alley, growing closer and closer to the wailing. Suddenly, he stepped on something of a different texture than the ground. A blanket? What was this... He knelt down stiffly, his joints not being what they'd used to be in his younger days, and with a slight grunt stood again to his feet to examine the now dirtied, white linen.
He brought it to his nostrils.
"Smells sweet... Like..." he turned to see a small bundle wiggling and squirming while also crying, "A baby..."
He wrapped the blanket into a ball and pocketed it before leaning down hurriedly to lift the little baby into his arms.
"Hush, hush..." he shushed the child, rocking it gently, "Where did you come from?"
It was then that his question was answered by assumption. A splotch of rose red had been found at one of the corners of the blanket. He turned his head to yet again take in the horrific sight of the girl, who was now being laid upon a stretcher and taken away. Someone had had the right idea and went to call for an ambulance. He again looked down at the baby.
"Your mother... Is the girl..." he whispered, shaking his head, "What a tragedy."
Finding it against all of his strong-standing morals to leave the baby alone or with anyone else, trusting himself more than he did the surrounding crowd, he decided it was his job to do the right thing and take the child home. At least, until he could find a home for him.
Christine sighed, sinking down to her knees at the coffin.
"Empty... Why would it be empty?" she breathed as a fingertip went to explore the smooth gold lining of the coffin's edge.
What had possessed Erik to leave? Had he gone to die somewhere else? The very thought that he would even choose to live out his last moments alone gave her an ill feeling in her stomach. Oh, Lord. Please, don't let it be. Don't let it be... I need to see him, once more, at least... My heart. Oh, my heart! Christine grasped at the cloth covering the area of skin where her heart was concealed, though she was sure that its beating could be seen through her chest. Her eyes closed tight as two despairing tears splattered on the ground and turned into several small droplets.
The storm outside could be heard, even in the lowest of cellars where his lonesome home resided. It still stood tall, even despite the damage that had been done. Nearly burned down, everything was destroyed. Christine could not help but shed many disappointed tears as she examined the awful terror the mob had wreaked on Erik's only safe haven. The place where her adventures full of darkness and splendor had been forged was now not even close to the black kingdom it once had been. The place she had once admired and many times been very curious about. Now nothing was as it had been. Not a single thing.
Christine let out a small groan as she stood, her hands tightly holding one another in front of her. She wasn't sure what to think, what to do. Now that he was gone... Oh, what wretched horrors had befallen her and this fallen Angel.
"Why, Erik? Why run away only to die in abandonment?"
Her voice spoke to the silence that was still so very unresponsive.
Abandonment... Abandoning.... Abandon....
Forsake...
"Take her and go, monsieur le Vicomte. Leave and never come back..."
"I won't let you leave me..."
"Precious words, those are. The first of that kind I've ever heard."
"I want to understand you more, Erik. Yet, I am not sure how to start."
"My face, Christine...."
Raoul slowly approached her and took her hand in his, stroking her cheek, "We must go, now, Christine... It is the only way."
"No!"
....."It has always been a hindrance to me. A curse. An immortal burden."
"Erik, please! I entreat you!"...
"This... Is precisely the reason why you will never understand or have the ability to love me, Christine."
..."Do not forsake me like this!"
"He came to me, remember? Whispering something in my ear and handing me a small trinket of sorts."
"Yes, I recall."
"This, my dear, is what he gave me to give you."
"Oh, Erik..."
One would almost think, on instinct entirely, that he was leaving them. But instead, he stopped in front of the Vicomte and handed him something small before whispering in his ear.
"His ring..."
"Christine, he wanted you to keep this, as a promise to him."
"I am ready, Erik..."
"...not everything you want will, or should come true. It is time to face reality."
"Lord, if this is my destiny, let me be strong and do what is right..."
Christine wildly pounded the coffin lid with her fists, making an unearthly noise that was half way between screeching and sobbing. She had to find him. She couldn't lose him....
"You don't remember me,
But I remember you,
I lie awake and try so hard,
Not to think of you,
But who can decide what they dream?
And dream I do...
I believe in you,
I'll give up everything just to find you,
I have to be with you to live to breathe,
You're taking over me,
Have you forgotten all I know and we had?
You saw me mourning my love for you,
And touched my hand,
I knew you loved me then,
I believe in you,
I'll give up everything just to find you,
I have to be with you to live to breathe,
You're taking over me,
I look in the mirror and see your face,
If I look deep enough,
So many things inside that are just like you,
Are taking over,
I believe in you,
I'll give up everything just to find you....
I have to be with you,
To live...
To breathe...
You're taking over me....."
Christine's hands flew to her eyes to cover her face. Wretched madness! Why the torture??
A baby's cry interrupted her own tears.
"A child...?" she whispered to herself, instantaneously calm.
"Yes." a low voice replied, "Hush now, little one. You are safe."
A small coo was heard in reply.
"Nadir!" a gasp filled Christine's lungs and she turned around quicker than lightning, "Erik. Where is he?"
"You've... come back for him?" Nadir inquired as a smile slowly coming to his lips.
Christine copied this smile, hoping that this meant good news, "Yes." she grinned, a sense of relief filling her.
"Are you.. certain."
"Positive, Nadir. I miss him so much..."
"You've been crying..." the Persian man supported the little boy in one arm while wiping away a few of her tears in a fatherly fashion.
"Yes..." and screaming.
"Did he not come out? He of all people should know when you..." Nadir paused, "How long have you been here?"
"At the very least a half of an hour." Christine replied, unsure of what to read from the inquisitive expression on his face.
Her fingers twisted one another subconsciously as her worries began to brew yet again.
"Throwing a mad fit like you have... eh?"
Christine nodded with a large swallow, "W-why?"
Nadir gently handed her the child who instantly grew quiet in the arms of a woman. Her eyes never left the Persian for a moment, a strange, chilling fear racing through her. As he checked the room, his gestures became slower and more discouraged.
"My God, Erik. What now..."
He stepped into the darkness of the quarters and searched around, calling his name until it was evident that he no longer resided in the room.
"Christine." Nadir appeared from the black doorway and sighed waveringly, "He is not there."
Suddenly, his eyes caught a paper in the coffin which she had missed and he leant down to retrieve it while she nervously bounced the baby, half to calm him and half to calm herself. She nuzzled cheeks with the little boy, looking for comfort of some sort, any sort.
"What... does it say?"
Nadir read over it several times, trying to make sense of it, then repeated them aloud, "Forgive me, time is of the essence. And as it is, I have very little left. If she returns, and I will assume you know of whom I speak without needing a precise name, give her the little jade colored box with the grasshopper and the scorpion. Inside will be something very special for her. Erik."
Their eyes met, her own becoming overflowed with salty tears, "Here..." she paused to sob, "Take the boy. I cannot hold him while I am falling apart like this..."
Brushing away her tears with her thumb she allowed Nadir to receive the baby again.
"Where do you think... he's gone?" she murmured, staring at the empty fireplace with her arms wrapped around herself.
The position gave her a forlorn look, and the naiveté of a child which had plagued her features before shown through. She was once again the girl she had been. Reduced back to something so small in so short a time... Nadir wondered just what might be going through her mind at that moment.
"Some place of significance." he replied solemnly, "I am sorry, Christine..."
"Don't be." she bitterly hissed, "I don't need anyone's pity. I've had far too much of it for my stomach to handle any longer."
She then whirled upon him and in a half-rage threw down the ring so hard, it left a mark in the already scathed wood of the floor.
"He left me this time. His loss. His decision..."
Christine then was gone, and the baby again started to cry.
((Ok everyone!! Please read and review!! If you review quickly, I'll try to have another chapter up TODAY!! lol I'm in such a good writing mood!!))