Disclaimer: I don't own the story. The story owns me. This is from Erik's
point of view and it explains why he wanted Christine to come back and bury
him.
In Dreams
A wave of guilt passes over me as I hear the door slam behind her. I love Christine with all my heart and yet no matter how hard I try I always end up hurting her. The argument we just had was foolish to say the least. I have been spending days and nights on end composing and I need sleep desperately. And poor Christine is under so much stress. I knew I should have postponed our lesson so we both could rest but opening night is tomorrow and I would hate for Christine to not be at her best. And in the end my somewhat good intentions blew up in my face. I saw the pain in her eyes as she turned to leave but my pride would not let my heart speak the words that would take that pain away. I try to concentrate on my music as I stare at the ceiling in a sleepless trance but the guilt keep invading my mind. I decide to apologize immediately just before the darkness envelops me.
The scene before me is so absolutely perfect; no poet could ever write a more perfect scene. No composure could ever write a more glorious song than the one coming from my darling Christine. She is calling me to her with song, beckoning me to come to her in the same way I beckoned her to pass through her mirror so long ago. Like her I am completely powerless to resist the song and it's most perfect singer. I walk towards her slowly taking in all that surrounds us; in order to transform it into one of my most cherished memories. I inhale deeply the scent of the flowers that surround us and delight at the feeling of sunlight warming my skin in the same way Christine warms my heart. I reach out to take her in my arms but we never meet. A cloud of darkness has set over the garden and I cannot see her. I call her name and hear her faint reply. I rush toward her voice only to see a pair of arms pull her away from me. Her scream echoes in my head as I reach the spot where she vanished. I call her name once more but all I hear is her scream. Hope rises as I turn to see a figure coming towards me. My heart stops when I see a person clothed in a scarlet cape and black hood instead of my precious Christine.
"Who are you?" I demand, "Where is Christine?"
"No one's there. No one cares." the figure replies.
Shivers run down my spine at the sound of that voice. I know that voice all too well. That horribly beautiful voice that will haunt me forever and never allow me to forget what I truly am. That voice that was always so harsh yet beautiful to my young ears, ears that only wanted to hear a fraction of the love a mother is to grant her son. Now to hear her voice again infuriates me. She is threatening to drown me in self-pity when my only concern should be Christine.
"What have you done with Christine?" I yell with a fury I have never known.
"No one's there. No one cares." Mother hisses.
"No one is where? No one cares about what? Where is Christine? Tell me." I scream at her.
"No one's there. No one cares." She answers as she motions for me to look around.
I gasp as I watch the once beautiful garden slowly melt into a cemetery. My heart fills with dread as the cloaked figure motions for me to examine a headstone. I silently pray that I will not come face to face with Christine's grave as I slowly walk over to the polished stone. A silent scream comes from my very soul as I see not her name but my own. I close my eyes to the accursed sight and pray that it will fade but as I open my eyes once again it still remains.
Here lies the earthly remains of the infamous
Phantom of the Opera
"No, no this can not be." I plead as I back away from the accursed stone.
Suddenly I lose my footing and fall down in to my own grave. I scream Christine's name but all I hear in return is the dark truth: No one's there. No one cares. The horrible truth still echoes in my mind as I slowly open my eyes to an angel watching over me.
"Erik, what's wrong?" she said concern shining in her glorious eyes, "I could hear you yelling from across the lake. What did you dream to make you react in such a violent way?"
"It was nothing Christine. Just the cold dark truth." I say as I make my way out of the room.
"That no one cares about you." she says following me, "Do you really believe that?"
"Christine, how can I not believe it? You know what I look like. You know just a fraction of the terrible things I've done. You should know as well as I do that no one cares about me and no one ever will." I say staring into the fireplace.
"I care about you, Erik." she whispers behind me. "If I didn't why am I here now?"
"You are here my dear because you are afraid of what I might do if you didn't come back." I spat.
I hear her sigh and know that she is on the verge of tears for the second time tonight. Why can't I stop hurting the ones I love? First my mother now Christine, why was I born only to ruin their lives?
Her voice interrupts my thoughts, "I am not afraid of you Erik. I come back because I care. I came back here tonight to apologize to you for acting the way I did. The only thing that I was afraid of was that you would not forgive me and no longer want me as a friend."
"Christine there is nothing that you can do to me that will ever make me want to never see you again. And I apologize for the way I have been treating you since you came back. My nightmare must have had a greater effect on me than I thought. I just don't want my life to end that way." I say as I offer her a seat.
"Are you afraid of death?" she asks with such innocence.
"No, my dear." I chuckle, "I am already considered a corpse. I live far below the ground and I sleep in a coffin. So no I am not afraid of death because I live it everyday. What I am afraid of is that I will be forever on display."
"What do you mean, Erik? I don't understand." she asks more than a little puzzled.
"It's quite simple, Christine. I saw my own headstone in my dream and I know that if I am buried in a marked grave I will never find eternal rest. I have spent most of my life on display for the people of the world and I want that all to end with my death. I do not want curious eyes disturbing my spirit's rest and if I have a headstone I can never find any rest. I would forever be an inevitable curiosity." I say watching her reaction.
"I will make sure your spirit finds rest, Erik." she says taking my hand in hers, "I want to be the person that helps you find the peace you could not find in life."
"Christine, I could never ask you to do such a thing. It is too gruesome a task for one such as you." I say turning away from her intense gaze.
"You never asked me, Erik." she corrects me, "It is something that I choose to do because I care about you. I want to live the rest of my life knowing that I helped you find eternal rest. Besides it will be my way of thanking you for all you have done for me and this way I know that no matter what I will have the chance to say goodbye to my angel."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~********** **************************************************************
You know the rest of the story. I think I feel a little better now that it's out in the open and not in my head. I know I'm not the best writer but I hope you enjoyed the story anyways.
In Dreams
A wave of guilt passes over me as I hear the door slam behind her. I love Christine with all my heart and yet no matter how hard I try I always end up hurting her. The argument we just had was foolish to say the least. I have been spending days and nights on end composing and I need sleep desperately. And poor Christine is under so much stress. I knew I should have postponed our lesson so we both could rest but opening night is tomorrow and I would hate for Christine to not be at her best. And in the end my somewhat good intentions blew up in my face. I saw the pain in her eyes as she turned to leave but my pride would not let my heart speak the words that would take that pain away. I try to concentrate on my music as I stare at the ceiling in a sleepless trance but the guilt keep invading my mind. I decide to apologize immediately just before the darkness envelops me.
The scene before me is so absolutely perfect; no poet could ever write a more perfect scene. No composure could ever write a more glorious song than the one coming from my darling Christine. She is calling me to her with song, beckoning me to come to her in the same way I beckoned her to pass through her mirror so long ago. Like her I am completely powerless to resist the song and it's most perfect singer. I walk towards her slowly taking in all that surrounds us; in order to transform it into one of my most cherished memories. I inhale deeply the scent of the flowers that surround us and delight at the feeling of sunlight warming my skin in the same way Christine warms my heart. I reach out to take her in my arms but we never meet. A cloud of darkness has set over the garden and I cannot see her. I call her name and hear her faint reply. I rush toward her voice only to see a pair of arms pull her away from me. Her scream echoes in my head as I reach the spot where she vanished. I call her name once more but all I hear is her scream. Hope rises as I turn to see a figure coming towards me. My heart stops when I see a person clothed in a scarlet cape and black hood instead of my precious Christine.
"Who are you?" I demand, "Where is Christine?"
"No one's there. No one cares." the figure replies.
Shivers run down my spine at the sound of that voice. I know that voice all too well. That horribly beautiful voice that will haunt me forever and never allow me to forget what I truly am. That voice that was always so harsh yet beautiful to my young ears, ears that only wanted to hear a fraction of the love a mother is to grant her son. Now to hear her voice again infuriates me. She is threatening to drown me in self-pity when my only concern should be Christine.
"What have you done with Christine?" I yell with a fury I have never known.
"No one's there. No one cares." Mother hisses.
"No one is where? No one cares about what? Where is Christine? Tell me." I scream at her.
"No one's there. No one cares." She answers as she motions for me to look around.
I gasp as I watch the once beautiful garden slowly melt into a cemetery. My heart fills with dread as the cloaked figure motions for me to examine a headstone. I silently pray that I will not come face to face with Christine's grave as I slowly walk over to the polished stone. A silent scream comes from my very soul as I see not her name but my own. I close my eyes to the accursed sight and pray that it will fade but as I open my eyes once again it still remains.
Here lies the earthly remains of the infamous
Phantom of the Opera
"No, no this can not be." I plead as I back away from the accursed stone.
Suddenly I lose my footing and fall down in to my own grave. I scream Christine's name but all I hear in return is the dark truth: No one's there. No one cares. The horrible truth still echoes in my mind as I slowly open my eyes to an angel watching over me.
"Erik, what's wrong?" she said concern shining in her glorious eyes, "I could hear you yelling from across the lake. What did you dream to make you react in such a violent way?"
"It was nothing Christine. Just the cold dark truth." I say as I make my way out of the room.
"That no one cares about you." she says following me, "Do you really believe that?"
"Christine, how can I not believe it? You know what I look like. You know just a fraction of the terrible things I've done. You should know as well as I do that no one cares about me and no one ever will." I say staring into the fireplace.
"I care about you, Erik." she whispers behind me. "If I didn't why am I here now?"
"You are here my dear because you are afraid of what I might do if you didn't come back." I spat.
I hear her sigh and know that she is on the verge of tears for the second time tonight. Why can't I stop hurting the ones I love? First my mother now Christine, why was I born only to ruin their lives?
Her voice interrupts my thoughts, "I am not afraid of you Erik. I come back because I care. I came back here tonight to apologize to you for acting the way I did. The only thing that I was afraid of was that you would not forgive me and no longer want me as a friend."
"Christine there is nothing that you can do to me that will ever make me want to never see you again. And I apologize for the way I have been treating you since you came back. My nightmare must have had a greater effect on me than I thought. I just don't want my life to end that way." I say as I offer her a seat.
"Are you afraid of death?" she asks with such innocence.
"No, my dear." I chuckle, "I am already considered a corpse. I live far below the ground and I sleep in a coffin. So no I am not afraid of death because I live it everyday. What I am afraid of is that I will be forever on display."
"What do you mean, Erik? I don't understand." she asks more than a little puzzled.
"It's quite simple, Christine. I saw my own headstone in my dream and I know that if I am buried in a marked grave I will never find eternal rest. I have spent most of my life on display for the people of the world and I want that all to end with my death. I do not want curious eyes disturbing my spirit's rest and if I have a headstone I can never find any rest. I would forever be an inevitable curiosity." I say watching her reaction.
"I will make sure your spirit finds rest, Erik." she says taking my hand in hers, "I want to be the person that helps you find the peace you could not find in life."
"Christine, I could never ask you to do such a thing. It is too gruesome a task for one such as you." I say turning away from her intense gaze.
"You never asked me, Erik." she corrects me, "It is something that I choose to do because I care about you. I want to live the rest of my life knowing that I helped you find eternal rest. Besides it will be my way of thanking you for all you have done for me and this way I know that no matter what I will have the chance to say goodbye to my angel."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~********** **************************************************************
You know the rest of the story. I think I feel a little better now that it's out in the open and not in my head. I know I'm not the best writer but I hope you enjoyed the story anyways.