Everything went down hill from that day Christine decided to stay with
Erik. A week passed and nothing progressed; partly because of Erik's
horribly short temper, and his lack of will to try to live with his new
condition. He wouldn't face the facts that he would never again be the way
he was before, and he kept trying to find bizarre ways to gain his hearing
back... mostly from madness.
Christine caught him more than once trying to hear the sound of his organ by standing on the keys and pressing his ear against the pipes in attempt to hear even the slightest sound from the blaring instrument; a stunt in which if he HAD been able to hear, it would have made him deaf with the addition of a continual ringing in his ears. Instead, it left him with a great throbbing of the head, even though he successfully heard nothing.
Erik didn't want to learn sign language.. "What's the use," he'd say, "I don't want to learn some pointless way of communication, when I never communicate with people! I want to HEAR!" And he wouldn't look on the bright side, which Christine had been trying to get him to do. He'd just reply sarcastically, "Isn't there a song about looking on the bright side?"(Though he still wasn't sure if there really was one), which would leave Christine more than guilty, and hush up about that rubbish.
Christine reminded Erik of Beethoven, the deaf composer, and Erik would just laugh, "Beethoven was a damned genius!"
Every way Christine tried to help him, Erik had some snide remark to add. She soon just figured out that it was no use, and the only way Erik would ever be happy again would be if he regained his hearing. Which he most likely wouldn't. What a stubborn man he was! Although, one time, Christine snapped after one very rude comeback of Erik's, and she just couldn't take it anymore. That was a week and two days after Erik's sudden disability.
"Erik!" She shouted, slamming down a giant book of deaf history so hard it shook the whole house, making Erik's eyes snap back to where Christine sat from staring at the ceiling. "I've tried to help you in so many different ways! I've stayed up all night for you, you don't have ANY idea of what I've tried to do! And if you would just cooperate - once! If you would give me a break just for a minute, everything would be fine, but it keeps on seeming more and more as if you want just the opposite! It's impossible to help you, Erik, when you don't want any help!" Christine shouted this, pointing her finger at him the whole time and ranting quite exaggerated so it was easy enough for Erik to understand.
She took a short breath and said, "Fine! You gave up the instant I started helping you... so, so... I'm giving up too! I'm not going to do this if you're not even TRYING, Erik!" Her expression softened back to the way she normally was, but her voice still boomed louder than ever. "I wanted to HELP you," she said, "And you turned everything I've done for you down so far..." Christine glared at the silent Erik for a moment. "So, make your decision... what is it? To accept your fate, or let it swallow you up? Tell me... quick, because I feel like leaving and never coming back right now."
There was still more silence.
"Erik," Christine said, "Which do you choose? To sink or float?"
Erik was just about to ask which was better; to struggle above water for a few minutes before sinking anyway, or just getting it over with?, but he resisted the temptation to push Christine further. So instead, he sighed deeply, paused for a moment, and said, "I'll keep at it," Erik muttered, "but only if you stay."
"Yes, that's mainly the idea," Christine teased. Erik wasn't looking, though. She poked him to get his attention. He turned to her obediently. "I read... that the deaf use throat vibrations to find the tone of their voices... maybe if you got used to the vibrations of your organ... you could write music just as easily as you did before," she suggested weakly.
Erik nodded forcefully, trying to look even mildly interested.
That's how the day went; Christine giving him more ideas and tips straight from the books she had been reading, boring him of his mind and making him look fascinated, besides.
She just didn't get it... he didn't want VIBRATIONS... his music was to please himself, not others... and if HE couldn't hear it and enjoy it, then why make it in the first place? To him, nobody but Christine deserved to be a part of his music.
It was late before Christine finally dozed off on the couch when Erik left to the confines of his music room, sitting at his organ and not playing a note. For hours it seemed, and it may well have been, Erik stared at the ivory keys of his powerful instrument, imagining the individual notes each played for him, and he heard his Don Juan being played on it, and all the songs he and Christine had sung with it as an accompaniment...
Finally, slowly, Erik lifted his fingers and rested one on a cold, recently- unused key, almost hearing the note, knowing it was being emitted from the organ at that very moment. He felt the vibration underneath his fingertips, but that was all. There was still silence. Still that evil, taunting, maddening silence...
With an outburst of fury that had similarly come often from the moment he had lost his hearing, Erik stood up, letting his bench tumble off behind him as he kicked furiously at his organ that would play him no music. He kicked through the wooden walls of his old instrument, tore up the smooth, perfect ivory keys, bent the tallest, mocking pipes... he didn't stop until all of his anger was melted into shameful self pity in which by then, his organ was in as horrible of shape as he was.
In the middle of the mess, he was somewhere between the second and third row of keys, which was now a pile of broken teeth, leaning against the bending pipes and gasping for the breath he could not hear escape his lungs.
He was a bird without wings. Now he just waited for the cat to come and finish him off.
A/N: Yeah, yeah.. depressing chapter. Next one's comin' soon! Thanks for alla reviews! YAY!! :)
Christine caught him more than once trying to hear the sound of his organ by standing on the keys and pressing his ear against the pipes in attempt to hear even the slightest sound from the blaring instrument; a stunt in which if he HAD been able to hear, it would have made him deaf with the addition of a continual ringing in his ears. Instead, it left him with a great throbbing of the head, even though he successfully heard nothing.
Erik didn't want to learn sign language.. "What's the use," he'd say, "I don't want to learn some pointless way of communication, when I never communicate with people! I want to HEAR!" And he wouldn't look on the bright side, which Christine had been trying to get him to do. He'd just reply sarcastically, "Isn't there a song about looking on the bright side?"(Though he still wasn't sure if there really was one), which would leave Christine more than guilty, and hush up about that rubbish.
Christine reminded Erik of Beethoven, the deaf composer, and Erik would just laugh, "Beethoven was a damned genius!"
Every way Christine tried to help him, Erik had some snide remark to add. She soon just figured out that it was no use, and the only way Erik would ever be happy again would be if he regained his hearing. Which he most likely wouldn't. What a stubborn man he was! Although, one time, Christine snapped after one very rude comeback of Erik's, and she just couldn't take it anymore. That was a week and two days after Erik's sudden disability.
"Erik!" She shouted, slamming down a giant book of deaf history so hard it shook the whole house, making Erik's eyes snap back to where Christine sat from staring at the ceiling. "I've tried to help you in so many different ways! I've stayed up all night for you, you don't have ANY idea of what I've tried to do! And if you would just cooperate - once! If you would give me a break just for a minute, everything would be fine, but it keeps on seeming more and more as if you want just the opposite! It's impossible to help you, Erik, when you don't want any help!" Christine shouted this, pointing her finger at him the whole time and ranting quite exaggerated so it was easy enough for Erik to understand.
She took a short breath and said, "Fine! You gave up the instant I started helping you... so, so... I'm giving up too! I'm not going to do this if you're not even TRYING, Erik!" Her expression softened back to the way she normally was, but her voice still boomed louder than ever. "I wanted to HELP you," she said, "And you turned everything I've done for you down so far..." Christine glared at the silent Erik for a moment. "So, make your decision... what is it? To accept your fate, or let it swallow you up? Tell me... quick, because I feel like leaving and never coming back right now."
There was still more silence.
"Erik," Christine said, "Which do you choose? To sink or float?"
Erik was just about to ask which was better; to struggle above water for a few minutes before sinking anyway, or just getting it over with?, but he resisted the temptation to push Christine further. So instead, he sighed deeply, paused for a moment, and said, "I'll keep at it," Erik muttered, "but only if you stay."
"Yes, that's mainly the idea," Christine teased. Erik wasn't looking, though. She poked him to get his attention. He turned to her obediently. "I read... that the deaf use throat vibrations to find the tone of their voices... maybe if you got used to the vibrations of your organ... you could write music just as easily as you did before," she suggested weakly.
Erik nodded forcefully, trying to look even mildly interested.
That's how the day went; Christine giving him more ideas and tips straight from the books she had been reading, boring him of his mind and making him look fascinated, besides.
She just didn't get it... he didn't want VIBRATIONS... his music was to please himself, not others... and if HE couldn't hear it and enjoy it, then why make it in the first place? To him, nobody but Christine deserved to be a part of his music.
It was late before Christine finally dozed off on the couch when Erik left to the confines of his music room, sitting at his organ and not playing a note. For hours it seemed, and it may well have been, Erik stared at the ivory keys of his powerful instrument, imagining the individual notes each played for him, and he heard his Don Juan being played on it, and all the songs he and Christine had sung with it as an accompaniment...
Finally, slowly, Erik lifted his fingers and rested one on a cold, recently- unused key, almost hearing the note, knowing it was being emitted from the organ at that very moment. He felt the vibration underneath his fingertips, but that was all. There was still silence. Still that evil, taunting, maddening silence...
With an outburst of fury that had similarly come often from the moment he had lost his hearing, Erik stood up, letting his bench tumble off behind him as he kicked furiously at his organ that would play him no music. He kicked through the wooden walls of his old instrument, tore up the smooth, perfect ivory keys, bent the tallest, mocking pipes... he didn't stop until all of his anger was melted into shameful self pity in which by then, his organ was in as horrible of shape as he was.
In the middle of the mess, he was somewhere between the second and third row of keys, which was now a pile of broken teeth, leaning against the bending pipes and gasping for the breath he could not hear escape his lungs.
He was a bird without wings. Now he just waited for the cat to come and finish him off.
A/N: Yeah, yeah.. depressing chapter. Next one's comin' soon! Thanks for alla reviews! YAY!! :)