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*ROCKS BACK AND FORTH* HE'LL ALWAYS BE THERE..PUTTING STORIES IN MY HEAD........*SINGS*
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Erik sunk to the floor in agony, unsure if he could believe the truth. She had returned, but to what? To torture him? He wished that his body had given up long before his heart did-that he had been able to commit suicide. He loved her so, and for her to know that and come back to the Opera…what good would it do? To watch her again, to dream of touching her hair, or kissing her lips. Maybe he imagined the kiss she had given him.
Ayesha came up to him and nudged his shoulder, wondering what all the alarm was about. Inching herself slowly into his lap…she rubbed her face on him and purred away, as if to heal his pain. But she couldn't.
And Erik wasn't sure who could. He was sure, though, that the love he had for Christine never died. He had waited so patiently to hear a word...anything. He had even hoped that after DeChangy died...that he might hear her voice calling to him, welcoming him with arms tiny, yet loving. That she wanted him, existed simply because the other lived…why that was too much. But…a dream never hurt, did it? For dreams never came true, and were so harmless to believe, even if only for a while.
Christine sighed in the rain, searching the Paris cemetery for a familiar friend. She noticed the family crypt, his name on the small building in the form of a plaque. Crying softly, she kissed the white roses she had gathered and put them in the vase holder, saying goodbye. She began to pray, careless of the mud and the rain drenching her skirts as she knelt. It was appropriate she thought, for the rain to come.
Let the sky and heavens weep for the death of such a great young man...If Christine had her way the skies would be crying forever for Raoul De Changy and her father, for inside, that's what she was always doing.
Megan felt her fight with her mother coming on the minute she stepped out again onto the stage. True, she was a little out of practice, but she wasn't that horrible. Yet her mother ran her harder than she could ever remember, more impatient than she had ever seen. Sweat beaded on her face pouring from her, and she felt so sick as if she might faint.
"Really, Maman, you were being unreasonable today!" She muttered after practice, when everyone else had left the stage.
Her mother rounded on her in a fury, her hands on her hips and her eyes like piercing ice. "You, who have no respect for anyone save yourself? Do you know what you did to me when you left? I was worried for your safety…your dangerous journey almost gave me heart attacks at night, just thinking about it. You never told me why. You brought back Christine, which causes more pain to people than you know. What about being unreasonable towards other's feelings!"
Megan began to slump a bit, in her purple leotard and new toe shoes. But the anger grew in her too, well aware that her mother caused pain by protecting her from her father. "She's my kindest and dearest friend, mother. I took her home because she needed to be around people instead of that place she lived in. It was a dump, that's what."
"What she does with her life is her business." A mother said curtly. "It isn't your duty to rescue her. It isn't your duty to hide her in my home. Do you forget what she and the late phantom caused here?"
"No," Megan said, "but I'm sure Erik has tons of opinions on my rescuing her, since you forgot to tell me he's alive as well. It very well shouldn't be your duty anymore to protect him either. But who are we kidding, mother? You've let my father live and breathe right next to me for four years of my life, watching me. You, who told me I had no father at all, because he was dead. He was a abusive man. Well if he was such a bad man in the first place, wouldn't your first duty to me would be to get your young daughter and yourself as far away from that father too? "
Mme.Giry sunk into a chair, unsure if she could even move, much less breathe. Her daughter's brutal honesty…it killed her inside to hear it. "Megan, sometimes you do things because you love them still… or care about them. Richard…he knows, but he's kept quiet. He's happy in his new life…and he's never told a soul our secret. But…how did you know?"
"I came in to look for you one evening, and the letters had fallen from your desk. I picked them up, and one headline caught my eye." Meg said coldly, not sure if sympathy or anger was filling her. She hated to see her mother deteriorate with one argument…, but she also had to take to heart that her mother only hurt herself and her daughter by her actions.
"Then you know. Everything?" Mme.Giry asked, quivering in her chair.
Megan wanted to take everything she said back in the world, for three months ago when her ignorant world ended, her mother had reserve. Now she was breaking right before her eyes. Megan cried softly, crouching and putting her head in her mother's lap. "Yes, I do know. And I'm sorry, for I never should have peeked…but why mother, why everything?"
And Mme.Giry, for the first time in her life, had no answer. She just softly touched her child's head, fingering through her blonde curls. Both women cried, for the grief in their lives.
The night had turned cold, Christine noticed. She should have returned to Megan's home hours ago, but she had wondered from the carriage after it had dropped her off at their home. Soaking wet then from the rain, and freezing now. But she had forgotten how numb her body had became. It had been so easy to slip in the Opera when no one noticed, too busy with gossip, or practice to be aware of Christine Daae, her white dress torn, muddy and wet, her blue cloak in much the same way.
Feeling warmth returning to her body, she began to shudder, but still she walked towards her purpose. The Angel upon the roof would welcome her, she thought. She could rest in it's arms, and maybe then she could see Raoul, and her father. She hadn't slept in days. To sleep forever…
She had thought about going up to see the angel from the moment she entered the carriage. It felt as if the world closed in on her and demanded her to leave. The angel would understand, angels always did, and would never tell a secret.
It was her only train of thought, and it occupied everything. The Christine who had arrived back in Paris was not the woman who had come back from seeing Raoul's grave. The inscription on his tomb, it would haunt her forever.
Remember me, Lotte.
The hour or so it took to reach the roof, didn't matter much. The snow felt comforting as it fell from the sky, the wind howled, but it sounded like music to her. Reaching the angel, she laid in it, feeling warmth leave as she saw the night sky, so sparkling with the snow. So filled with life that was threatening to leave her. Letting go was so easy. It was a matter of just sleeping, which her exhausted body needed badly.
She began to pretend that the structure was really embracing her. Like Erik's arms, she thought. That one time… when she kissed him so deeply. No kiss on earth had ever felt like that, not the ones after and not the ones before. But the thing that made the memory cling was the scent of him, and those arms that held her so firmly. Now this world of make believe would become reality, and she smiled dreamily, closing her eyes and pretending to be in the arms of the angel of music.
Megan ran after the form roaming the halls, sure of whom it was. Christine was going insane, she thought to herself. Even Meg couldn't get home after the snow started to hit. It was safer to stay in the warm opera. Mother had gone off to be alone, and she herself had stayed in one of the dressing rooms, leaving the door open. That was when she saw Christine walk past. She cursed underneath her breath, grabbed her wrap, and an extra pair of clothes, putting them on quickly.
She'll catch her death like that, Meg thought, and then she realized that was exactly what Christine wanted to do. Meg followed her quietly and saw her lay herself into the angel and close her eyes. Meg stifled back tears and anger. Damn her! Didn't she see that everything would be alright now?
That she had Meg there to talk to, and they would get through anything because Meg believed it to be so! What if Erik found her, and then there would be two dead bodies on the roof because he couldn't live without her, either!
Cursing, she felt the wind bite her cheeks unwelcomingly. Everything screamed, even the air, for her to leave Christine to this insanity. But she couldn't. Meg's boots scuffed as she ran to the lyre and wrapped her arms around Christine, slapping her face.
"Christine! How could you leave me! Especially now!!!!!" Meg cried, slapping Christine's face, hardly aware of the shallow breathing that Christine was producing. Meg thought she surely had found her friend dying.
She began to cry, slapping her friend's face and getting no response. Going into hysterics, she screamed into the night, Megan angry at the foolishness of love. It had destroyed everything and everyone she knew, and she vowed that she would never surrender.
READ AND REVIEW IF YOU LIKE! :)
*ROCKS BACK AND FORTH* HE'LL ALWAYS BE THERE..PUTTING STORIES IN MY HEAD........*SINGS*
@------'----------,-----------'--------------,------------
Erik sunk to the floor in agony, unsure if he could believe the truth. She had returned, but to what? To torture him? He wished that his body had given up long before his heart did-that he had been able to commit suicide. He loved her so, and for her to know that and come back to the Opera…what good would it do? To watch her again, to dream of touching her hair, or kissing her lips. Maybe he imagined the kiss she had given him.
Ayesha came up to him and nudged his shoulder, wondering what all the alarm was about. Inching herself slowly into his lap…she rubbed her face on him and purred away, as if to heal his pain. But she couldn't.
And Erik wasn't sure who could. He was sure, though, that the love he had for Christine never died. He had waited so patiently to hear a word...anything. He had even hoped that after DeChangy died...that he might hear her voice calling to him, welcoming him with arms tiny, yet loving. That she wanted him, existed simply because the other lived…why that was too much. But…a dream never hurt, did it? For dreams never came true, and were so harmless to believe, even if only for a while.
Christine sighed in the rain, searching the Paris cemetery for a familiar friend. She noticed the family crypt, his name on the small building in the form of a plaque. Crying softly, she kissed the white roses she had gathered and put them in the vase holder, saying goodbye. She began to pray, careless of the mud and the rain drenching her skirts as she knelt. It was appropriate she thought, for the rain to come.
Let the sky and heavens weep for the death of such a great young man...If Christine had her way the skies would be crying forever for Raoul De Changy and her father, for inside, that's what she was always doing.
Megan felt her fight with her mother coming on the minute she stepped out again onto the stage. True, she was a little out of practice, but she wasn't that horrible. Yet her mother ran her harder than she could ever remember, more impatient than she had ever seen. Sweat beaded on her face pouring from her, and she felt so sick as if she might faint.
"Really, Maman, you were being unreasonable today!" She muttered after practice, when everyone else had left the stage.
Her mother rounded on her in a fury, her hands on her hips and her eyes like piercing ice. "You, who have no respect for anyone save yourself? Do you know what you did to me when you left? I was worried for your safety…your dangerous journey almost gave me heart attacks at night, just thinking about it. You never told me why. You brought back Christine, which causes more pain to people than you know. What about being unreasonable towards other's feelings!"
Megan began to slump a bit, in her purple leotard and new toe shoes. But the anger grew in her too, well aware that her mother caused pain by protecting her from her father. "She's my kindest and dearest friend, mother. I took her home because she needed to be around people instead of that place she lived in. It was a dump, that's what."
"What she does with her life is her business." A mother said curtly. "It isn't your duty to rescue her. It isn't your duty to hide her in my home. Do you forget what she and the late phantom caused here?"
"No," Megan said, "but I'm sure Erik has tons of opinions on my rescuing her, since you forgot to tell me he's alive as well. It very well shouldn't be your duty anymore to protect him either. But who are we kidding, mother? You've let my father live and breathe right next to me for four years of my life, watching me. You, who told me I had no father at all, because he was dead. He was a abusive man. Well if he was such a bad man in the first place, wouldn't your first duty to me would be to get your young daughter and yourself as far away from that father too? "
Mme.Giry sunk into a chair, unsure if she could even move, much less breathe. Her daughter's brutal honesty…it killed her inside to hear it. "Megan, sometimes you do things because you love them still… or care about them. Richard…he knows, but he's kept quiet. He's happy in his new life…and he's never told a soul our secret. But…how did you know?"
"I came in to look for you one evening, and the letters had fallen from your desk. I picked them up, and one headline caught my eye." Meg said coldly, not sure if sympathy or anger was filling her. She hated to see her mother deteriorate with one argument…, but she also had to take to heart that her mother only hurt herself and her daughter by her actions.
"Then you know. Everything?" Mme.Giry asked, quivering in her chair.
Megan wanted to take everything she said back in the world, for three months ago when her ignorant world ended, her mother had reserve. Now she was breaking right before her eyes. Megan cried softly, crouching and putting her head in her mother's lap. "Yes, I do know. And I'm sorry, for I never should have peeked…but why mother, why everything?"
And Mme.Giry, for the first time in her life, had no answer. She just softly touched her child's head, fingering through her blonde curls. Both women cried, for the grief in their lives.
The night had turned cold, Christine noticed. She should have returned to Megan's home hours ago, but she had wondered from the carriage after it had dropped her off at their home. Soaking wet then from the rain, and freezing now. But she had forgotten how numb her body had became. It had been so easy to slip in the Opera when no one noticed, too busy with gossip, or practice to be aware of Christine Daae, her white dress torn, muddy and wet, her blue cloak in much the same way.
Feeling warmth returning to her body, she began to shudder, but still she walked towards her purpose. The Angel upon the roof would welcome her, she thought. She could rest in it's arms, and maybe then she could see Raoul, and her father. She hadn't slept in days. To sleep forever…
She had thought about going up to see the angel from the moment she entered the carriage. It felt as if the world closed in on her and demanded her to leave. The angel would understand, angels always did, and would never tell a secret.
It was her only train of thought, and it occupied everything. The Christine who had arrived back in Paris was not the woman who had come back from seeing Raoul's grave. The inscription on his tomb, it would haunt her forever.
Remember me, Lotte.
The hour or so it took to reach the roof, didn't matter much. The snow felt comforting as it fell from the sky, the wind howled, but it sounded like music to her. Reaching the angel, she laid in it, feeling warmth leave as she saw the night sky, so sparkling with the snow. So filled with life that was threatening to leave her. Letting go was so easy. It was a matter of just sleeping, which her exhausted body needed badly.
She began to pretend that the structure was really embracing her. Like Erik's arms, she thought. That one time… when she kissed him so deeply. No kiss on earth had ever felt like that, not the ones after and not the ones before. But the thing that made the memory cling was the scent of him, and those arms that held her so firmly. Now this world of make believe would become reality, and she smiled dreamily, closing her eyes and pretending to be in the arms of the angel of music.
Megan ran after the form roaming the halls, sure of whom it was. Christine was going insane, she thought to herself. Even Meg couldn't get home after the snow started to hit. It was safer to stay in the warm opera. Mother had gone off to be alone, and she herself had stayed in one of the dressing rooms, leaving the door open. That was when she saw Christine walk past. She cursed underneath her breath, grabbed her wrap, and an extra pair of clothes, putting them on quickly.
She'll catch her death like that, Meg thought, and then she realized that was exactly what Christine wanted to do. Meg followed her quietly and saw her lay herself into the angel and close her eyes. Meg stifled back tears and anger. Damn her! Didn't she see that everything would be alright now?
That she had Meg there to talk to, and they would get through anything because Meg believed it to be so! What if Erik found her, and then there would be two dead bodies on the roof because he couldn't live without her, either!
Cursing, she felt the wind bite her cheeks unwelcomingly. Everything screamed, even the air, for her to leave Christine to this insanity. But she couldn't. Meg's boots scuffed as she ran to the lyre and wrapped her arms around Christine, slapping her face.
"Christine! How could you leave me! Especially now!!!!!" Meg cried, slapping Christine's face, hardly aware of the shallow breathing that Christine was producing. Meg thought she surely had found her friend dying.
She began to cry, slapping her friend's face and getting no response. Going into hysterics, she screamed into the night, Megan angry at the foolishness of love. It had destroyed everything and everyone she knew, and she vowed that she would never surrender.
READ AND REVIEW IF YOU LIKE! :)