A/N- The end is around the corner! Oh no! My baby's almost all grown up! Anyway enjoy this chapter and review please please please.
Oh and just a random thought- you know the scene in the musical when Raoul dives into the water... ever wonder what would happen if he missed the trap door?
R: OWWWW!
**Erik and Christine come by on the boat and run over him**
E: Ha, you stupid fop!
R: **groans** I AM NOT A FOP!
Disclaimer- This all belongs to whoever owns it. I own Marguerite and Jillian- ha!!!
Chapter Eight- You were once a friend and father, then my world was shattered…
All she could hear was the music, all she could feel was the music. It drummed in her pulse and prompted her to wake from her long slumber. Marguerite's eyes opened slowly, her eyelids still heavy with receding dreams. There was a feeling she had yet to identify growing in her soul. One of absolute peace and understanding and it grew stronger every day. And she knew in that moment, when her eyes opened to the beautiful room around her, that she would not last another month. Death was lurking around the corner and she was no longer afraid.
But still felt like she had unfinished business. Three was something left to tell.
**Jillian… I have yet to tell someone of her death and her murderer**
It is time to whisper her secret into a listening ear, for soon she would not have a chance. And she owed her sister some justice.
She slowly rose from her bed and stretched while her mind played elsewhere. She distantly dressed and washed up before leaving her room. Her father was playing vividly today, it seems his mind was elsewhere too. His long bony finger stroked the organ keys with a caress fit for a lover. She had never interrupted him when he played but, then again, there is a first time for everything.
"Papa?" her voice rose above the music as it was brought to an immediate halt.
Erik was surprised to say the least; she had never done this before. "Yes, my child?" He turned to face her and had to swallow a gasp when he looked upon the visible changes in her appearance. He had been trying to avoid seeing them but they had become too evident over the past week. Her hair, once so bright and full of life, now lay limp around her shoulders. Her shining golden eyes was reduced to dull amber. Her skin was paler than usual and her body was visibly frail. She was slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do about it.
Marguerite registered the shocked expression in his eyes. She wasn't the least bit surprised, her vision left something to be desired. "I need to tell you something. I need to share something with you."
His good eyebrow rose, "What do you mean?"
She slowly sat in a footstool by the organ bench before looking at him again, "I'm going to tell you a story and you have to promise me that you won't interrupt until I'm done."
He nodded and she began-
"Once upon a time, only three years ago, there lived a young girl named Marguerite who loved her sister very much. Her name was Jillian and she was everything Marguerite had dreamed about when she heard her mama was going to have a baby. Jillian looked exactly like her mother in every way shape and form and she made her father very proud.
"But unfortunately, Jillian inherited her fathers prying sense of curiosity. She was constantly looking through books and papers she couldn't read and messing up her parent's study. She had the urge to touch everything. Christine understood because she knew Jillian was only a child. But it made Raoul mad. He always yelled at her sending her rushing to her sister's room, scared and trembling from her father's wrath. This mad Marguerite angry, but she said nothing for she knew it would only get her in trouble.
"Jillian also inherited her mother's clumsiness. She consistently bumped into vases and statues, knocking them over. When her father found out she was beaten and sent to her room; but later on, Marguerite would slip into her room with some cold meat for her wounds.
"Now as she got older her clumsiness started to become less evident and she kept her hands to her self. But sometimes she did do something tactless but it was a rare occurrence. But one day Jillian made a big mistake that made Raoul very angry…"
It was midwinter and Marguerite was doing one of her favorite things, reading in front of the fire. Marguerite sat in her favorite chair reading "Romeo and Juliet" this evening. Dinner had just ended nearly twenty minutes ago. Her bedtime was in an hour, but she planned on finishing her book before that time. A loud creak shattered her quiet atmosphere and lurched her foreword in fright.
"Maggie?" a tiny voice said.
"Jilly? Don't do that you startled me!" she said turning to the tiny girl.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." Jillian shrank back a bit.
Marguerite put her book down and went to her sister, enfolding her in a hug. "It's okay Jilly-bean, I forgive you." She pulled back and looked into her sister's face. She was still terrified. "What's wrong?"
"It's papa, he's frightened me so, Maggie. He went into another one of his fits and hit mama. He makes me so mad! And so scared…" the little child started to sob.
"Hush now," Marguerite held her sister closer. "It's going to be all right now, Maggie's here."
"Why does mommy let him do that to her, Maggie? Why does papa hurt her?" she continued to sob.
Marguerite knew that Jillian wouldn't understand their mother's situation, after all, she was only seven years old.
"Mommy is just scared that's all. Daddy doesn't mean to hurt her…" the latter sentence was such a lie. It felt like sucking on a greasy coin, but the truth would sting her too much.
"No!" Jillian suddenly flung herself out of Marguerite's arms. "No! He should pay for what he does! It's not fair that he hurts mum like he does. He should pay!" she shouted.
"Jillian." Marguerite warned.
"No! If he's going to hurt something special to me, I'm going to hurt something special of his!"
The young girl then ran to he fathers desk and picked up his ledger book and, before Marguerite could stop her, hurled it into the fire.
"Jillian, no!" Marguerite lurched forward to get the book but it was too late. It burst into flames. And when things couldn't get any worse, it did.
Raoul burst in yelling, "What's all the fuss about?" And that's when he saw his ledger on fire.
"Who did this? Who?" He eyed us both.
Now, Marguerite was a big sister. And she knew she could take the heat much more gracefully than her sister could. "I did it papa, it was an accident."
He turned automatically to Jillian, "Why did you do this?"
"I did it!" Marguerite screamed.
He looked at me cruelly, "Oh really? Then why did you scream 'Jillian, no'!" he mocked.
Marguerite had no answer to that.
"For lying I banish you to your room, go now."
"No, not until I know what you are going to do to Jillian."
"Marguerite, I gave you a direct order. Leave before I lose my temper."
"No, not until I know what will happen to her."
"LEAVE THIS INSTANT!" Raoul bellowed as he lost his cool.
"No," her tone was like slick ice.
Raoul lashed out and backhanded her across the face, "Never use that tone with me again."
"You can't tell me what to do, you have no power over me!"
He slapped her again, harder this time. "Go to your room!"
Marguerite gave Jillian a look that said 'leave while I'm distracting him'. "No, you stupid fop! I will not."
He punched her for that one, in the gut. "Never bad mouth me again, young lady do you hear me? I am your father and I deserve some respect!"
Marguerite was in obvious pain, but she would not back down. "You deserve nothing! You deserve to be-" SMACK SMACK
Marguerite was on the ground now, bleeding. She managed to peer up and see that Jillian was gone. "I'll be in my room."
She dashed out of the room as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Raoul was behind her as soon as she went across the first corner. She sped up the steps and as she went by her sister's room, she yelled 'Lock your door' before dashing into her room and doing the same.
"Raoul banged on that door for god knows how long. If my mother had been home, she would have had a fit. I was so frightened… I don't know how I fell asleep." She paused and glanced up for the first time during the tale. She wished she hadn't though, Erik looked incensed. His hands were gripping the piano bench so hard she thought it would break. His face was red and hot with strain but his eyes were two cold orbs.
"Father be calm. If this part upsets you well- I'd hate to think about what you'd think about the rest of the story." She took a deep breath before continuing. This part would be the hardest.
"I don't know when I woke up. I remember it was dark and cold. Something had startled me awake but it hadn't been a dream, it was a noise. It was screaming, like a child's voice. And I later learned that it was indeed a child's voice, my sister's. I wanted to run to my mama right there and then but she had gone out of town to visit her father's grave. So, I decided to do something about it. I looked out my window, listening so I could find the source of the voice. And that's when I saw the barn by our house, there were dim lights glowing from it. So, I threw a cape on and crept out of the service door.
"I ran to the barn, the snow freezing my feet, the cold going straight through my thin nightgown. All I remembered was my fall into the lake four years previous. The screaming got louder as I approached the barn and then came down to scarcely heard whimpering. I was so scared, so scared…." Her voice was cracking as she held back a sob. She was reliving the memories. It was like putting salt on a fresh wound. It hurt so much, the memories, yet she found the strength to continue.
"I crept up to the barn… I didn't want to look inside but I had to. And there I saw Jillian on the floor. She was being raped in front of my very eyes. And her attacker… her attacker was- was- was…." She couldn't continue. She sobbed into her hands. Deep, painful sobs that ripped into her decaying lungs. She didn't stop crying, not when the pain became so intense it was hard to breathe, and not when she felt two, big warm arms hold her to an equally warm chest.
She snuggled closer as she cried herself out. She finally whispered, "Oh papa, I wish mama were here."
"Wish granted."
*
When Christine saw the huge opera house, she hesitated. This was once her home, now it was a strangers land. Slowly she crept inside, clinging to the shadows. A show had just ended and people were flooding out of the auditorium and into their carriages, merrily chanting about the show they had just witnessed. Christine silently slipped through the halls until she came upon her old dressing room. This corridor was deserted so she doubted that anyone had inhibited the room.
She slowly opened the door and stepped inside. It felt like she was cracking open her own grave, for she HAD died, the moment she said 'I do'.
She was surprised to find her room did belong to someone. She was nervous until she saw her letter to her daughter sitting on the vanity. They gave her room to her daughter…
"What idiots…. Didn't think twice about the opera ghost did they?" she thought as she pressed the button to the counter weight.
As she went down the steps, she heard a voice but it was too faint to say whose it was. She found Erik's boat on the shore. She was unsure how to use it but she did her best as she pooled across.
The voice, she finally realized, was Marguerite's. But it had flowed of her tongue in the same manor that Erik's had, in calm musical waves. She listened in on the conversation and was shocked when she heard Raoul had smacked her daughter around so harshly. She bumped onto the shore as she heard her daughter talking of the screaming. Christine softly walked into the house, barely making a sound, and stood in the doorway of the room that encompassed her two greatest loves.
She watched at how Erik was watching her daughter, their daughter. And in an instant, she knew that he knew. She wondered briefly how before it left her mind completely. Erik was happy and comfortable with his daughter that's all that mattered.
She continued to listen to Marguerite speak until she had broken into sobs. Christine felt her arms ache to hold and comfort her precious child. And Christine was shocked, to say the least, when Erik's arms which had killed so many, lovingly wrapped around Marguerite and held her close.
"Oh papa," **She knew too?** "I wish mama were here."
"Wish granted," she stated simply.
*
"Christine…" Erik's voice slowly wrapped around her in a lovers caress.
"Mama?" Marguerite shot up in a nanosecond, sounding like a lost three-year-old.
Christine could only bite her lip and nod. Her baby, her first and only baby left, was so sick. So visibly sick and she hadn't been there. "Oh baby, I'm here now."
"Mama!" Marguerite sobbed as she launched into her open mother's arms. "Oh mama, I missed you so much. I thought I'd never see you again!"
"Oh my sweet Maggie- what have I done! Why didn't I stop him. It's all my fault!"
Marguerite was going to say something when Erik beat her to it. "Christine, don't blame yourself. It isn't your fault people get sick. People get hurt. People… people die."
"Erik! Don't say such things Maggie's going to be fine… aren't you?" She looked down at her sweet daughter's face for reassurance. "Aren't you?"
"Oh mama, the words he has spoken, I'm dying mama…" her lips twisted into a smile. "But you're here and we're a family now. That's all I wanted before I died. We can be a family now, can't we? You still love each other, don't you?" she asked innocently, her eyes switching from her mother's face to her father's.
"Yes," they answered simultaneously.
Marguerite smiled brightly. She stood in between her mother and he father. She held out a hand to her mum and one to her father. She cocked an eyebrow, "Family?"
Erik took Marguerite's hand. "Family."
Marguerite looked towards Christine for her decision. Her hand was held out like a question, a sacrifice. Christine looked into Erik's eyes and saw the man she had made love to all those years ago staring back. This may be the easiest decision she ever made.
"Family," she accepted with a smile.
Marguerite then drew them all into a hug and each person was surprised when everyone accepted the embrace.
"This is it, we're family now," Christine thought as she snuggled closer to her love and her child.
Erik noticed the tears running down Marguerite's face. "Dear child, why are you crying?"
"I'm just so happy!" she exclaimed as she pulled them both closer. "We're finally together, we're a family!"
A gunshot rang out through the room, cutting open the happy moment like a knife through butter.
"I hate having to break up this cavity giving reunion- oh who am I kidding- I'm happy as hell."
Christine's eyes grew wide in fear as she whispered, "Raoul."
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh and just a random thought- you know the scene in the musical when Raoul dives into the water... ever wonder what would happen if he missed the trap door?
R: OWWWW!
**Erik and Christine come by on the boat and run over him**
E: Ha, you stupid fop!
R: **groans** I AM NOT A FOP!
Disclaimer- This all belongs to whoever owns it. I own Marguerite and Jillian- ha!!!
Chapter Eight- You were once a friend and father, then my world was shattered…
All she could hear was the music, all she could feel was the music. It drummed in her pulse and prompted her to wake from her long slumber. Marguerite's eyes opened slowly, her eyelids still heavy with receding dreams. There was a feeling she had yet to identify growing in her soul. One of absolute peace and understanding and it grew stronger every day. And she knew in that moment, when her eyes opened to the beautiful room around her, that she would not last another month. Death was lurking around the corner and she was no longer afraid.
But still felt like she had unfinished business. Three was something left to tell.
**Jillian… I have yet to tell someone of her death and her murderer**
It is time to whisper her secret into a listening ear, for soon she would not have a chance. And she owed her sister some justice.
She slowly rose from her bed and stretched while her mind played elsewhere. She distantly dressed and washed up before leaving her room. Her father was playing vividly today, it seems his mind was elsewhere too. His long bony finger stroked the organ keys with a caress fit for a lover. She had never interrupted him when he played but, then again, there is a first time for everything.
"Papa?" her voice rose above the music as it was brought to an immediate halt.
Erik was surprised to say the least; she had never done this before. "Yes, my child?" He turned to face her and had to swallow a gasp when he looked upon the visible changes in her appearance. He had been trying to avoid seeing them but they had become too evident over the past week. Her hair, once so bright and full of life, now lay limp around her shoulders. Her shining golden eyes was reduced to dull amber. Her skin was paler than usual and her body was visibly frail. She was slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do about it.
Marguerite registered the shocked expression in his eyes. She wasn't the least bit surprised, her vision left something to be desired. "I need to tell you something. I need to share something with you."
His good eyebrow rose, "What do you mean?"
She slowly sat in a footstool by the organ bench before looking at him again, "I'm going to tell you a story and you have to promise me that you won't interrupt until I'm done."
He nodded and she began-
"Once upon a time, only three years ago, there lived a young girl named Marguerite who loved her sister very much. Her name was Jillian and she was everything Marguerite had dreamed about when she heard her mama was going to have a baby. Jillian looked exactly like her mother in every way shape and form and she made her father very proud.
"But unfortunately, Jillian inherited her fathers prying sense of curiosity. She was constantly looking through books and papers she couldn't read and messing up her parent's study. She had the urge to touch everything. Christine understood because she knew Jillian was only a child. But it made Raoul mad. He always yelled at her sending her rushing to her sister's room, scared and trembling from her father's wrath. This mad Marguerite angry, but she said nothing for she knew it would only get her in trouble.
"Jillian also inherited her mother's clumsiness. She consistently bumped into vases and statues, knocking them over. When her father found out she was beaten and sent to her room; but later on, Marguerite would slip into her room with some cold meat for her wounds.
"Now as she got older her clumsiness started to become less evident and she kept her hands to her self. But sometimes she did do something tactless but it was a rare occurrence. But one day Jillian made a big mistake that made Raoul very angry…"
It was midwinter and Marguerite was doing one of her favorite things, reading in front of the fire. Marguerite sat in her favorite chair reading "Romeo and Juliet" this evening. Dinner had just ended nearly twenty minutes ago. Her bedtime was in an hour, but she planned on finishing her book before that time. A loud creak shattered her quiet atmosphere and lurched her foreword in fright.
"Maggie?" a tiny voice said.
"Jilly? Don't do that you startled me!" she said turning to the tiny girl.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." Jillian shrank back a bit.
Marguerite put her book down and went to her sister, enfolding her in a hug. "It's okay Jilly-bean, I forgive you." She pulled back and looked into her sister's face. She was still terrified. "What's wrong?"
"It's papa, he's frightened me so, Maggie. He went into another one of his fits and hit mama. He makes me so mad! And so scared…" the little child started to sob.
"Hush now," Marguerite held her sister closer. "It's going to be all right now, Maggie's here."
"Why does mommy let him do that to her, Maggie? Why does papa hurt her?" she continued to sob.
Marguerite knew that Jillian wouldn't understand their mother's situation, after all, she was only seven years old.
"Mommy is just scared that's all. Daddy doesn't mean to hurt her…" the latter sentence was such a lie. It felt like sucking on a greasy coin, but the truth would sting her too much.
"No!" Jillian suddenly flung herself out of Marguerite's arms. "No! He should pay for what he does! It's not fair that he hurts mum like he does. He should pay!" she shouted.
"Jillian." Marguerite warned.
"No! If he's going to hurt something special to me, I'm going to hurt something special of his!"
The young girl then ran to he fathers desk and picked up his ledger book and, before Marguerite could stop her, hurled it into the fire.
"Jillian, no!" Marguerite lurched forward to get the book but it was too late. It burst into flames. And when things couldn't get any worse, it did.
Raoul burst in yelling, "What's all the fuss about?" And that's when he saw his ledger on fire.
"Who did this? Who?" He eyed us both.
Now, Marguerite was a big sister. And she knew she could take the heat much more gracefully than her sister could. "I did it papa, it was an accident."
He turned automatically to Jillian, "Why did you do this?"
"I did it!" Marguerite screamed.
He looked at me cruelly, "Oh really? Then why did you scream 'Jillian, no'!" he mocked.
Marguerite had no answer to that.
"For lying I banish you to your room, go now."
"No, not until I know what you are going to do to Jillian."
"Marguerite, I gave you a direct order. Leave before I lose my temper."
"No, not until I know what will happen to her."
"LEAVE THIS INSTANT!" Raoul bellowed as he lost his cool.
"No," her tone was like slick ice.
Raoul lashed out and backhanded her across the face, "Never use that tone with me again."
"You can't tell me what to do, you have no power over me!"
He slapped her again, harder this time. "Go to your room!"
Marguerite gave Jillian a look that said 'leave while I'm distracting him'. "No, you stupid fop! I will not."
He punched her for that one, in the gut. "Never bad mouth me again, young lady do you hear me? I am your father and I deserve some respect!"
Marguerite was in obvious pain, but she would not back down. "You deserve nothing! You deserve to be-" SMACK SMACK
Marguerite was on the ground now, bleeding. She managed to peer up and see that Jillian was gone. "I'll be in my room."
She dashed out of the room as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Raoul was behind her as soon as she went across the first corner. She sped up the steps and as she went by her sister's room, she yelled 'Lock your door' before dashing into her room and doing the same.
"Raoul banged on that door for god knows how long. If my mother had been home, she would have had a fit. I was so frightened… I don't know how I fell asleep." She paused and glanced up for the first time during the tale. She wished she hadn't though, Erik looked incensed. His hands were gripping the piano bench so hard she thought it would break. His face was red and hot with strain but his eyes were two cold orbs.
"Father be calm. If this part upsets you well- I'd hate to think about what you'd think about the rest of the story." She took a deep breath before continuing. This part would be the hardest.
"I don't know when I woke up. I remember it was dark and cold. Something had startled me awake but it hadn't been a dream, it was a noise. It was screaming, like a child's voice. And I later learned that it was indeed a child's voice, my sister's. I wanted to run to my mama right there and then but she had gone out of town to visit her father's grave. So, I decided to do something about it. I looked out my window, listening so I could find the source of the voice. And that's when I saw the barn by our house, there were dim lights glowing from it. So, I threw a cape on and crept out of the service door.
"I ran to the barn, the snow freezing my feet, the cold going straight through my thin nightgown. All I remembered was my fall into the lake four years previous. The screaming got louder as I approached the barn and then came down to scarcely heard whimpering. I was so scared, so scared…." Her voice was cracking as she held back a sob. She was reliving the memories. It was like putting salt on a fresh wound. It hurt so much, the memories, yet she found the strength to continue.
"I crept up to the barn… I didn't want to look inside but I had to. And there I saw Jillian on the floor. She was being raped in front of my very eyes. And her attacker… her attacker was- was- was…." She couldn't continue. She sobbed into her hands. Deep, painful sobs that ripped into her decaying lungs. She didn't stop crying, not when the pain became so intense it was hard to breathe, and not when she felt two, big warm arms hold her to an equally warm chest.
She snuggled closer as she cried herself out. She finally whispered, "Oh papa, I wish mama were here."
"Wish granted."
*
When Christine saw the huge opera house, she hesitated. This was once her home, now it was a strangers land. Slowly she crept inside, clinging to the shadows. A show had just ended and people were flooding out of the auditorium and into their carriages, merrily chanting about the show they had just witnessed. Christine silently slipped through the halls until she came upon her old dressing room. This corridor was deserted so she doubted that anyone had inhibited the room.
She slowly opened the door and stepped inside. It felt like she was cracking open her own grave, for she HAD died, the moment she said 'I do'.
She was surprised to find her room did belong to someone. She was nervous until she saw her letter to her daughter sitting on the vanity. They gave her room to her daughter…
"What idiots…. Didn't think twice about the opera ghost did they?" she thought as she pressed the button to the counter weight.
As she went down the steps, she heard a voice but it was too faint to say whose it was. She found Erik's boat on the shore. She was unsure how to use it but she did her best as she pooled across.
The voice, she finally realized, was Marguerite's. But it had flowed of her tongue in the same manor that Erik's had, in calm musical waves. She listened in on the conversation and was shocked when she heard Raoul had smacked her daughter around so harshly. She bumped onto the shore as she heard her daughter talking of the screaming. Christine softly walked into the house, barely making a sound, and stood in the doorway of the room that encompassed her two greatest loves.
She watched at how Erik was watching her daughter, their daughter. And in an instant, she knew that he knew. She wondered briefly how before it left her mind completely. Erik was happy and comfortable with his daughter that's all that mattered.
She continued to listen to Marguerite speak until she had broken into sobs. Christine felt her arms ache to hold and comfort her precious child. And Christine was shocked, to say the least, when Erik's arms which had killed so many, lovingly wrapped around Marguerite and held her close.
"Oh papa," **She knew too?** "I wish mama were here."
"Wish granted," she stated simply.
*
"Christine…" Erik's voice slowly wrapped around her in a lovers caress.
"Mama?" Marguerite shot up in a nanosecond, sounding like a lost three-year-old.
Christine could only bite her lip and nod. Her baby, her first and only baby left, was so sick. So visibly sick and she hadn't been there. "Oh baby, I'm here now."
"Mama!" Marguerite sobbed as she launched into her open mother's arms. "Oh mama, I missed you so much. I thought I'd never see you again!"
"Oh my sweet Maggie- what have I done! Why didn't I stop him. It's all my fault!"
Marguerite was going to say something when Erik beat her to it. "Christine, don't blame yourself. It isn't your fault people get sick. People get hurt. People… people die."
"Erik! Don't say such things Maggie's going to be fine… aren't you?" She looked down at her sweet daughter's face for reassurance. "Aren't you?"
"Oh mama, the words he has spoken, I'm dying mama…" her lips twisted into a smile. "But you're here and we're a family now. That's all I wanted before I died. We can be a family now, can't we? You still love each other, don't you?" she asked innocently, her eyes switching from her mother's face to her father's.
"Yes," they answered simultaneously.
Marguerite smiled brightly. She stood in between her mother and he father. She held out a hand to her mum and one to her father. She cocked an eyebrow, "Family?"
Erik took Marguerite's hand. "Family."
Marguerite looked towards Christine for her decision. Her hand was held out like a question, a sacrifice. Christine looked into Erik's eyes and saw the man she had made love to all those years ago staring back. This may be the easiest decision she ever made.
"Family," she accepted with a smile.
Marguerite then drew them all into a hug and each person was surprised when everyone accepted the embrace.
"This is it, we're family now," Christine thought as she snuggled closer to her love and her child.
Erik noticed the tears running down Marguerite's face. "Dear child, why are you crying?"
"I'm just so happy!" she exclaimed as she pulled them both closer. "We're finally together, we're a family!"
A gunshot rang out through the room, cutting open the happy moment like a knife through butter.
"I hate having to break up this cavity giving reunion- oh who am I kidding- I'm happy as hell."
Christine's eyes grew wide in fear as she whispered, "Raoul."
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!