Christine
The next morning, after I got dressed, I went into the sitting room. Erik was sitting at his organ. A slow, peaceful melody drifted across the room. I walked to him and kissed his cheek. He stopped playing and turned around.
"Bon matin mon chérie," he said.
"Good morning," I echoed. He stood up and kissed my forehead.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Very well thank you," I replied.
"I'm glad. Would you like something to-" Erik didn't finish his sentence for at that moment the door to the lair opened and a shot rang out. Erik gasped for breath and then collapsed to the floor.
"Erik!" I shrieked. I looked to the door and saw Raoul. He stood with a blank expression on his face then he too fell to the floor. Behind Raoul stood Christian, a gun pointed to exactly where Raoul's head had been. He dropped the gun and ran to Erik's side. I did the same.
"Erik," I moaned and cradled his head in my lap. He was breathing, but just barely so.
"Christine," he whispered.
"Don't speak Erik," I said.
"I love you..."he trailed off and took my hand. He felt each of my fingers, and I could tell he was searching for the ring he had given me. When he found it, he smiled slightly and kissed my hand. "You have given me so much Christine. You h-have made me," he paused to regain his breath, "so happy. I'm glad I got to finally l-love someone."
"Erik don't leave me!" I cried. "I love you!" Tears poured down my cheeks and Erik gently wiped them away.
"The tears of an Angel should be spilt," he drew a raspy breath, "over someone more worthy of them than me," he murmured.
"Erik I can't live without you!" I exclaimed.
"Yes you can. Do it for me. Do it for Christian. He needs you," he said softly. He was slipping away from me and there was nothing I could do about it. "Promise me you'll do that for me."
"I promise Erik," I sobbed.
"Where is Christian?" Erik asked.
"I'm right here Father," Christian said moving so Erik could see him.
"Take care of your mother for me," Erik instructed.
"I promise," Christian stated.
"I love you Christian," Erik whispered.
"I love you too father," Christian replied, silent tears running down his cheeks.
"Christine," Erik said in barely a whisper. "My wife."
"I'll always love you Erik," I said through my tears.
"And I you Christine." His eyelids dropped down over his beautiful, golden eyes, and his hand on mine went limp. He was gone.
"Oh God!" I cried and began sobbing uncontrollably. Christian wrapped his arms around me and we cried together for Erik.
Three days later, there was a private funeral for Raoul. Only a few close friends and relatives attended other than Christian and I. The next night, at midnight, Christian and I watched as two of our most trusted servants buried my dear Erik. The Daroga was there as well.
I cried, and still do, for my Angel. I've kept my promise tough and so has Christian. I go through each day knowing that Erik is watching over me. Sometimes, mostly at night, I wander through my garden or I go to the Opera and revisit the labyrinth. Sometimes, even still, I hear my Angel. When I do, I stop and I listen. I listen to my Angel and am haunted by the past.
The next morning, after I got dressed, I went into the sitting room. Erik was sitting at his organ. A slow, peaceful melody drifted across the room. I walked to him and kissed his cheek. He stopped playing and turned around.
"Bon matin mon chérie," he said.
"Good morning," I echoed. He stood up and kissed my forehead.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Very well thank you," I replied.
"I'm glad. Would you like something to-" Erik didn't finish his sentence for at that moment the door to the lair opened and a shot rang out. Erik gasped for breath and then collapsed to the floor.
"Erik!" I shrieked. I looked to the door and saw Raoul. He stood with a blank expression on his face then he too fell to the floor. Behind Raoul stood Christian, a gun pointed to exactly where Raoul's head had been. He dropped the gun and ran to Erik's side. I did the same.
"Erik," I moaned and cradled his head in my lap. He was breathing, but just barely so.
"Christine," he whispered.
"Don't speak Erik," I said.
"I love you..."he trailed off and took my hand. He felt each of my fingers, and I could tell he was searching for the ring he had given me. When he found it, he smiled slightly and kissed my hand. "You have given me so much Christine. You h-have made me," he paused to regain his breath, "so happy. I'm glad I got to finally l-love someone."
"Erik don't leave me!" I cried. "I love you!" Tears poured down my cheeks and Erik gently wiped them away.
"The tears of an Angel should be spilt," he drew a raspy breath, "over someone more worthy of them than me," he murmured.
"Erik I can't live without you!" I exclaimed.
"Yes you can. Do it for me. Do it for Christian. He needs you," he said softly. He was slipping away from me and there was nothing I could do about it. "Promise me you'll do that for me."
"I promise Erik," I sobbed.
"Where is Christian?" Erik asked.
"I'm right here Father," Christian said moving so Erik could see him.
"Take care of your mother for me," Erik instructed.
"I promise," Christian stated.
"I love you Christian," Erik whispered.
"I love you too father," Christian replied, silent tears running down his cheeks.
"Christine," Erik said in barely a whisper. "My wife."
"I'll always love you Erik," I said through my tears.
"And I you Christine." His eyelids dropped down over his beautiful, golden eyes, and his hand on mine went limp. He was gone.
"Oh God!" I cried and began sobbing uncontrollably. Christian wrapped his arms around me and we cried together for Erik.
Three days later, there was a private funeral for Raoul. Only a few close friends and relatives attended other than Christian and I. The next night, at midnight, Christian and I watched as two of our most trusted servants buried my dear Erik. The Daroga was there as well.
I cried, and still do, for my Angel. I've kept my promise tough and so has Christian. I go through each day knowing that Erik is watching over me. Sometimes, mostly at night, I wander through my garden or I go to the Opera and revisit the labyrinth. Sometimes, even still, I hear my Angel. When I do, I stop and I listen. I listen to my Angel and am haunted by the past.