He didn't deserve to die... after all he was just a pathetic fop of a man
It had been three days since the incident in the basements of the Opera House, but there was no sign of change. Christine was still not responding to me. She stared blankly at the wall, not really seeing. She moved rarely, only to use the bathroom. I fed her of course for she wouldn't take any food on her own. I talked to her, sang to her, held her, and still nothing… I rarely left her bedside for fear that she would wake up and be alone and afraid.
She did sleep but her dreams were violent. She would thrash about and sometimes she would scream in agony. I was staring to loose hope.
I woke up in the chair by her bedside, stiff as usual. Stretching silently, I looked at Christine to find she was all ready awake and crying.
Hope welled up in my chest, "Christine?"
She was mumbling so lowly I had to lean in to hear, "My fault, my fault, it's all my fault, my fault. My fault Raoul is dead dead dead dead dead nevermore dead… my fault my fault my fault!"
I shook her, "Christine stop." She kept on mumbling, growing more upset by the moment. I pulled her into my arms and held her, whispering comfortingly to her.
"It's not your fault Christine. It's not your fault."
"Yes it is! It is!" she sobbed into my chest.
"Sh, little one. I'm here, everything is going to be all right. You'll see, you'll see," I lulled.
Soon she was asleep against my chest, and I placed her back down on the bed. I tucked her in and resumed my position on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. Slowly, I nodded off as well.
My eyes opened slowly, the first thing in my sight of vision was a smiling face. Light lit up her hair and added a shine to her blue eyes.
"Good morning, Erik," she sighed.
"Good morning, Christine. Are you feeling well?" I asked, amazed she was even awake.
"Oui, much better, Erik, thanks to you," she smiled shyly at me. But it faded quickly. "Erik, Raoul's dead isn't he?"
I watched as her bottom lip started to tremble. I opened my arms in an invitation of comfort. I expected her to reject me, as she should but instead she threw herself into my arms. Carefully, I closed my arms around her giving her plenty of time to pull away. But she didn't instead she clung to me like there was no tomorrow.
"Oh, Erik," she sobbed. "He didn't deserve to die…"
It had been three days since the incident in the basements of the Opera House, but there was no sign of change. Christine was still not responding to me. She stared blankly at the wall, not really seeing. She moved rarely, only to use the bathroom. I fed her of course for she wouldn't take any food on her own. I talked to her, sang to her, held her, and still nothing… I rarely left her bedside for fear that she would wake up and be alone and afraid.
She did sleep but her dreams were violent. She would thrash about and sometimes she would scream in agony. I was staring to loose hope.
I woke up in the chair by her bedside, stiff as usual. Stretching silently, I looked at Christine to find she was all ready awake and crying.
Hope welled up in my chest, "Christine?"
She was mumbling so lowly I had to lean in to hear, "My fault, my fault, it's all my fault, my fault. My fault Raoul is dead dead dead dead dead nevermore dead… my fault my fault my fault!"
I shook her, "Christine stop." She kept on mumbling, growing more upset by the moment. I pulled her into my arms and held her, whispering comfortingly to her.
"It's not your fault Christine. It's not your fault."
"Yes it is! It is!" she sobbed into my chest.
"Sh, little one. I'm here, everything is going to be all right. You'll see, you'll see," I lulled.
Soon she was asleep against my chest, and I placed her back down on the bed. I tucked her in and resumed my position on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. Slowly, I nodded off as well.
My eyes opened slowly, the first thing in my sight of vision was a smiling face. Light lit up her hair and added a shine to her blue eyes.
"Good morning, Erik," she sighed.
"Good morning, Christine. Are you feeling well?" I asked, amazed she was even awake.
"Oui, much better, Erik, thanks to you," she smiled shyly at me. But it faded quickly. "Erik, Raoul's dead isn't he?"
I watched as her bottom lip started to tremble. I opened my arms in an invitation of comfort. I expected her to reject me, as she should but instead she threw herself into my arms. Carefully, I closed my arms around her giving her plenty of time to pull away. But she didn't instead she clung to me like there was no tomorrow.
"Oh, Erik," she sobbed. "He didn't deserve to die…"