Author's note: Here is another chapter from Erik's point of view, in which
the events immediately following the previous two chapters are described.
This chapter, however, is written as though Erik is remembering the events
a year or so in the future. Please review! I hope you enjoy.
Erik, 1857
The trouble started on an occasion when my aunt had gone to dance at the Opera House in Paris. I had been left alone in my bedroom and I had been peaceably playing the violin for most of the afternoon. My concentration was suddenly broken by the most tremendous row coming from downstairs. I decided to go out onto the landing and investigate. I knew my aunt didn't really like me to leave my room while she was away, but my natural curiosity got the better of me. I slowly crept out onto the landing and looked down at the scene below.I could just make out several figures in the downstairs hallway, and I could hear joyful shouts.maybe my parents had returned from a business trip to Paris. I crept further down the attic staircase, and beheld the figure of my mother. It had to be my mother.I recognised her from my portrait. She was holding a beautiful blonde little girl in her arms, and both were laughing gaily. I watched in wonder as she bent her head and pressed her lips against the girl's cheek. Two other girls also ran to greet her. I was both touched and saddened by this vision of family togetherness. They made a lovely group, all laughing and talking together, and I suddenly found myself wishing that I could go downstairs and share in their mutual warmth and love. Maybe I could ask my aunt if I could go down and see them when she came back. It might be a good opportunity to meet my parents, now that they were both together. Smiling wistfully to myself, I made my way back up to my room.
Late that evening, when my aunt returned, she was surprised to find that I was still awake. She looked at me suspiciously for a moment or two, and then smiled.
"You've been up to something today!" she said, with mock seriousness. "You've got that innocent look on your face.I can always tell when you've been up to something! Well, what have you got to say to me?"
I swallowed nervously.I knew that I was about to ask a brave question.
"Aunt Giry?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Please can I go and see my parents tomorrow?"
My aunt was visibly startled, and she looked at me in surprise.
"What makes you ask that?"
"I saw them coming into the house today.they were greeting my sisters.can I go and see them?"
My aunt shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. They'll be too busy."
"Please! I'd love to meet them!"
"No! And don't you dare leave your room when I'm away again!"
I stepped back in shock.my aunt had never spoken to me like this before. "I'm.I'm sorry."
My aunt's face softened. "It's all right.just promise you won't do it again."
I nodded hastily. "I promise."
That night, after my aunt had tucked me in, I lay on my bed and thought. Why had my aunt reacted so strangely to my request? She never usually spoke to me like that.it had quite upset me. She had seemed startled and angry.what was she hiding from me?
I looked around my little bedroom in bewilderment, my eyes resting first on my piano, then on my violin, which had been propped up against a chair. Finally, my eyes rested on my bedside table, where the small portrait of my mother stood. I felt tears form in my eyes. Why didn't she ever want to see me? What had I done to upset her? For the first time in my life I really began to feel lonely and unhappy. My mother was downstairs, with my father and sisters, and this portrait was the closest I could get to her.
I didn't sleep a wink that night, and I was still awake the next morning when my aunt entered the room.
"Your breakfast's ready, Erik," she said, putting a tray down on the table. "What's the matter?" She had seen how sad I looked, and she walked over to the bed to stand beside me. "Are you upset because I shouted at you yesterday? I'm sorry."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's just that.I'm lonely, that's all."
Aunt Giry sat down next to me. "Oh," she said. "I see."
"Why don't they want to see me, Auntie? Have I done something wrong?"
"No, of course not." She put her arms around me. "It's just that your parents have been very busy over the last few years. You know, what with your father's job and all."
"But why can't they find time to see me? I am their son, after all."
"Never mind," said my aunt, smiling at me. "I'll have a word with your mother tomorrow. Maybe she'll let you go down and say hello. Would that make you feel better?"
"Yes. Thank you, Auntie."
The following morning I was up bright and early, hoping that my aunt would soon come in and tell me that I could go down and see my parents. I dressed, had some breakfast, and tried to play the piano, but I was so restless that I found it impossible. Eventually, I decided to sneak downstairs and look for Aunt Giry myself.
I soon found her, standing by what must have been the living room door. As I approached her I saw how angry she looked. She didn't seem to notice me at first. Instead she remained standing there, shaking her head and muttering things under her breath. I bounded over to meet her.
"Hello," I said. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, I'm sorry Erik," she said, sadly. "Your mother and father are too busy. You can't see them today."
I was more than unhappy now. I was furious. "It's not fair!" I exclaimed, nearly in tears. " They're ALWAYS TIRED! They're ALWAYS TOO BUSY! WHY CAN'T I SPEND SOME TIME WITH THEM FOR A CHANGE?!"
"I'm sorry Erik, but."
"But WHAT?"
"It's just that.I know! Why don't you come upstairs with me and play your violin?"
This just infuriated me even more. She was keeping something from me, and trying to distract my attention away from the door.
"No!" I cried angrily. "I'm going to see my parents!"
"But Erik, you can't!"
"Try and stop me!"
With that, I pushed past poor Aunt Giry and flung the door open. Everything in the room was silent. As I stood in the doorway, two heads turned in my direction. My father appeared quite handsome, and he eyed me with interest. My mother would have been very beautiful, if it wasn't for the cold look of distaste on her face. I began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Mo.Mother?" I inquired, nervously. My mother glared at me. "I'm.sorry. I'll.I'll go."
"Good idea," she said, with anger in her voice. "And don't you dare disturb me, or any members of my family ever again!"
"You mean.you don't want to speak to me?"
"No, I do not!" She replied, glaring at me. "Go back up to the attic where you belong, and play one of those stupid piano pieces of yours!"
"But.what did I do wrong?" I asked, feeling increasingly confused.
"JUST GO!!" her voice boomed. I didn't hesitate. I fled from the room and ran weeping into the arms of my beloved Aunt Giry.
The next few days passed slowly and painfully. I was still upset about me mother, and Aunt Giry, concerned, as usual, tried her hardest to keep my mind off the fateful confrontation. I still wanted to see my parents, perhaps more than ever, for I was still lonely, and my mother's apparent hostility towards me only served to heighten my curiosity.
After about a week, my ninth birthday came around. Aunt Giry, knowing that I still felt unhappy deep down, spoiled me more than usual. She bought me new clothes, toys, books, and a small portable organ. I was very pleased with all my gifts, but all I really wanted that birthday was to go and see my parents, so I could apologise for disturbing them the week before.
To my great surprise, that afternoon my wish almost came true. I was trying out my new organ when Aunt Giry entered, smiling from ear to ear.
"Hello, Erik!" She said, happily. "Your parents have asked me to send for you! You can go down and see them!"
She seemed rather excited, and I didn't hesitate. I straightened my clothes and ran downstairs as fast as I could.
I opened the living room door and shyly looked around the room. My mother and father were sitting in their chairs, and the housekeeper stood behind them, next to that funny little whatnot, full of shells and pincushions. For the first time ever, the housekeeper seemed to be smiling. It was like something out of a dream. "Hello Erik," said my mother.
"Hello," I answered, quietly.
"Many happy returns of the day," she said, smiling.
"Thank you, mother," I replied politely.
"I invited you down here because I want to give you something. I've had it for a while, in case of an emergency, and after my talk with your aunt this morning, I've come to the conclusion that you must be ready for it. But we'll come to that later. Firstly, I would like to ask you something. Has your aunt ever told you that your face looks a bit.funny?"
The question sounded vaguely familiar, and I repressed a shudder.
"No," I whispered, nervously.
"You mean to tell me that no one's ever laughed at you or called you names?"
"No, not really. Why should they do that?"
"Come on, Master Erik! Surely you know how ugly you are?"
"Ug.ugly?"
"Yes! Why, you're deformed! Has no one ever told you that?"
I wondered in bewilderment what "deformed" meant, as I had done on a number of other occasions.
"I.I don't understand."
"You're hideous! You're horrible! You're.you're repulsive! I'm telling you that you're not fit to be seen! But never mind. I have something that you can use to hide your face forever. No one will ever have to set eyes on your face again."
With that, she took a parcel from her lap, and I watched in confusion as she began to unwrap it. Silently, she held up its contents. The object in her hand was clean and new, and it was a dull, grey colour. It had been very roughly made out of papier mache.
I gasped.
The object in her hand was a mask!
Then it hit me, and everything which had happened made sense. That was why I had been hidden away from the outside world. That was why my parents never wanted to see me.
It was all because of my appearance!
Suddenly, I found that I could remember everything. I remembered the housekeeper striking me and calling me hideous.I remembered my mother, my beautiful, angelic mother, calling me ugly and hitting me with that book.bringing it down again, again and again! My dream of getting to know my parents was shattered. All I could see before my eyes was a collection of ugly old furniture. In the midst of it all stood a sneering housekeeper, my father, and my mother, her golden hair tied back in a bun, holding up the mask and smiling.
"Come on," she said. "Try it on!"
"Yes," the old housekeeper chuckled. "I'm sure it will suit you!"
That was the last straw. With a wail I darted towards the door, but the housekeeper grabbed me by the arms and held me before my parents. I struggled violently, but it was all in vain, so I fell to my knees and began to weep.
"Please!" I cried, piteously. "Please don't make me wear it! I'm sorry if I've let you down, I really am!"
My parents remained unmoved, and my mother held up the mask.
At that moment my aunt burst in. She had heard my cries, and she looked at my mother with an expression of pure venom on her face.
"Let him go!" she cried. "The child has done nothing to you!" She ran at the housekeeper and pulled me, weeping and trembling, from her grasp. I clung to my aunt tightly. "How could you?" she screamed. "How could you do this to him?"
"I was only trying to help him," my mother replied. "Have you seen his poor face?"
"Yes, I have seen his poor face," said Aunt Giry. "And I hope to see it many times in the future, without that horrid thing hiding it!"
"Nonsense!" my mother snapped back. "He's not fit to be seen!"
I could not understand why my face should be the cause of such conflict. All I could manage was a feeble: "Please.please stop arguing."
My mother glared at me. "Then end the argument!" she said. "Put on the mask!"
"No!" I cried, finding enough courage within myself to rebel against this strange, harsh request. "I won't!"
"Very well then. Get him!"
Her servants lunged towards me, but I was too quick for them. I wriggled out from my aunt's protective grasp, flung open the door, and made a dash up the staircase to my room. Unfortunately, the servants caught up with me, and they knocked me onto my bed. Two of them fell on me, along with that horrid housekeeper.
I tried in vain to wriggle out from beneath their grasp, but they held me down fast by the arms. Then I gave up, and let them do it. I hadn't a fight left in me, and my mother had the mask.
Erik, 1857
The trouble started on an occasion when my aunt had gone to dance at the Opera House in Paris. I had been left alone in my bedroom and I had been peaceably playing the violin for most of the afternoon. My concentration was suddenly broken by the most tremendous row coming from downstairs. I decided to go out onto the landing and investigate. I knew my aunt didn't really like me to leave my room while she was away, but my natural curiosity got the better of me. I slowly crept out onto the landing and looked down at the scene below.I could just make out several figures in the downstairs hallway, and I could hear joyful shouts.maybe my parents had returned from a business trip to Paris. I crept further down the attic staircase, and beheld the figure of my mother. It had to be my mother.I recognised her from my portrait. She was holding a beautiful blonde little girl in her arms, and both were laughing gaily. I watched in wonder as she bent her head and pressed her lips against the girl's cheek. Two other girls also ran to greet her. I was both touched and saddened by this vision of family togetherness. They made a lovely group, all laughing and talking together, and I suddenly found myself wishing that I could go downstairs and share in their mutual warmth and love. Maybe I could ask my aunt if I could go down and see them when she came back. It might be a good opportunity to meet my parents, now that they were both together. Smiling wistfully to myself, I made my way back up to my room.
Late that evening, when my aunt returned, she was surprised to find that I was still awake. She looked at me suspiciously for a moment or two, and then smiled.
"You've been up to something today!" she said, with mock seriousness. "You've got that innocent look on your face.I can always tell when you've been up to something! Well, what have you got to say to me?"
I swallowed nervously.I knew that I was about to ask a brave question.
"Aunt Giry?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"Please can I go and see my parents tomorrow?"
My aunt was visibly startled, and she looked at me in surprise.
"What makes you ask that?"
"I saw them coming into the house today.they were greeting my sisters.can I go and see them?"
My aunt shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. They'll be too busy."
"Please! I'd love to meet them!"
"No! And don't you dare leave your room when I'm away again!"
I stepped back in shock.my aunt had never spoken to me like this before. "I'm.I'm sorry."
My aunt's face softened. "It's all right.just promise you won't do it again."
I nodded hastily. "I promise."
That night, after my aunt had tucked me in, I lay on my bed and thought. Why had my aunt reacted so strangely to my request? She never usually spoke to me like that.it had quite upset me. She had seemed startled and angry.what was she hiding from me?
I looked around my little bedroom in bewilderment, my eyes resting first on my piano, then on my violin, which had been propped up against a chair. Finally, my eyes rested on my bedside table, where the small portrait of my mother stood. I felt tears form in my eyes. Why didn't she ever want to see me? What had I done to upset her? For the first time in my life I really began to feel lonely and unhappy. My mother was downstairs, with my father and sisters, and this portrait was the closest I could get to her.
I didn't sleep a wink that night, and I was still awake the next morning when my aunt entered the room.
"Your breakfast's ready, Erik," she said, putting a tray down on the table. "What's the matter?" She had seen how sad I looked, and she walked over to the bed to stand beside me. "Are you upset because I shouted at you yesterday? I'm sorry."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's just that.I'm lonely, that's all."
Aunt Giry sat down next to me. "Oh," she said. "I see."
"Why don't they want to see me, Auntie? Have I done something wrong?"
"No, of course not." She put her arms around me. "It's just that your parents have been very busy over the last few years. You know, what with your father's job and all."
"But why can't they find time to see me? I am their son, after all."
"Never mind," said my aunt, smiling at me. "I'll have a word with your mother tomorrow. Maybe she'll let you go down and say hello. Would that make you feel better?"
"Yes. Thank you, Auntie."
The following morning I was up bright and early, hoping that my aunt would soon come in and tell me that I could go down and see my parents. I dressed, had some breakfast, and tried to play the piano, but I was so restless that I found it impossible. Eventually, I decided to sneak downstairs and look for Aunt Giry myself.
I soon found her, standing by what must have been the living room door. As I approached her I saw how angry she looked. She didn't seem to notice me at first. Instead she remained standing there, shaking her head and muttering things under her breath. I bounded over to meet her.
"Hello," I said. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, I'm sorry Erik," she said, sadly. "Your mother and father are too busy. You can't see them today."
I was more than unhappy now. I was furious. "It's not fair!" I exclaimed, nearly in tears. " They're ALWAYS TIRED! They're ALWAYS TOO BUSY! WHY CAN'T I SPEND SOME TIME WITH THEM FOR A CHANGE?!"
"I'm sorry Erik, but."
"But WHAT?"
"It's just that.I know! Why don't you come upstairs with me and play your violin?"
This just infuriated me even more. She was keeping something from me, and trying to distract my attention away from the door.
"No!" I cried angrily. "I'm going to see my parents!"
"But Erik, you can't!"
"Try and stop me!"
With that, I pushed past poor Aunt Giry and flung the door open. Everything in the room was silent. As I stood in the doorway, two heads turned in my direction. My father appeared quite handsome, and he eyed me with interest. My mother would have been very beautiful, if it wasn't for the cold look of distaste on her face. I began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Mo.Mother?" I inquired, nervously. My mother glared at me. "I'm.sorry. I'll.I'll go."
"Good idea," she said, with anger in her voice. "And don't you dare disturb me, or any members of my family ever again!"
"You mean.you don't want to speak to me?"
"No, I do not!" She replied, glaring at me. "Go back up to the attic where you belong, and play one of those stupid piano pieces of yours!"
"But.what did I do wrong?" I asked, feeling increasingly confused.
"JUST GO!!" her voice boomed. I didn't hesitate. I fled from the room and ran weeping into the arms of my beloved Aunt Giry.
The next few days passed slowly and painfully. I was still upset about me mother, and Aunt Giry, concerned, as usual, tried her hardest to keep my mind off the fateful confrontation. I still wanted to see my parents, perhaps more than ever, for I was still lonely, and my mother's apparent hostility towards me only served to heighten my curiosity.
After about a week, my ninth birthday came around. Aunt Giry, knowing that I still felt unhappy deep down, spoiled me more than usual. She bought me new clothes, toys, books, and a small portable organ. I was very pleased with all my gifts, but all I really wanted that birthday was to go and see my parents, so I could apologise for disturbing them the week before.
To my great surprise, that afternoon my wish almost came true. I was trying out my new organ when Aunt Giry entered, smiling from ear to ear.
"Hello, Erik!" She said, happily. "Your parents have asked me to send for you! You can go down and see them!"
She seemed rather excited, and I didn't hesitate. I straightened my clothes and ran downstairs as fast as I could.
I opened the living room door and shyly looked around the room. My mother and father were sitting in their chairs, and the housekeeper stood behind them, next to that funny little whatnot, full of shells and pincushions. For the first time ever, the housekeeper seemed to be smiling. It was like something out of a dream. "Hello Erik," said my mother.
"Hello," I answered, quietly.
"Many happy returns of the day," she said, smiling.
"Thank you, mother," I replied politely.
"I invited you down here because I want to give you something. I've had it for a while, in case of an emergency, and after my talk with your aunt this morning, I've come to the conclusion that you must be ready for it. But we'll come to that later. Firstly, I would like to ask you something. Has your aunt ever told you that your face looks a bit.funny?"
The question sounded vaguely familiar, and I repressed a shudder.
"No," I whispered, nervously.
"You mean to tell me that no one's ever laughed at you or called you names?"
"No, not really. Why should they do that?"
"Come on, Master Erik! Surely you know how ugly you are?"
"Ug.ugly?"
"Yes! Why, you're deformed! Has no one ever told you that?"
I wondered in bewilderment what "deformed" meant, as I had done on a number of other occasions.
"I.I don't understand."
"You're hideous! You're horrible! You're.you're repulsive! I'm telling you that you're not fit to be seen! But never mind. I have something that you can use to hide your face forever. No one will ever have to set eyes on your face again."
With that, she took a parcel from her lap, and I watched in confusion as she began to unwrap it. Silently, she held up its contents. The object in her hand was clean and new, and it was a dull, grey colour. It had been very roughly made out of papier mache.
I gasped.
The object in her hand was a mask!
Then it hit me, and everything which had happened made sense. That was why I had been hidden away from the outside world. That was why my parents never wanted to see me.
It was all because of my appearance!
Suddenly, I found that I could remember everything. I remembered the housekeeper striking me and calling me hideous.I remembered my mother, my beautiful, angelic mother, calling me ugly and hitting me with that book.bringing it down again, again and again! My dream of getting to know my parents was shattered. All I could see before my eyes was a collection of ugly old furniture. In the midst of it all stood a sneering housekeeper, my father, and my mother, her golden hair tied back in a bun, holding up the mask and smiling.
"Come on," she said. "Try it on!"
"Yes," the old housekeeper chuckled. "I'm sure it will suit you!"
That was the last straw. With a wail I darted towards the door, but the housekeeper grabbed me by the arms and held me before my parents. I struggled violently, but it was all in vain, so I fell to my knees and began to weep.
"Please!" I cried, piteously. "Please don't make me wear it! I'm sorry if I've let you down, I really am!"
My parents remained unmoved, and my mother held up the mask.
At that moment my aunt burst in. She had heard my cries, and she looked at my mother with an expression of pure venom on her face.
"Let him go!" she cried. "The child has done nothing to you!" She ran at the housekeeper and pulled me, weeping and trembling, from her grasp. I clung to my aunt tightly. "How could you?" she screamed. "How could you do this to him?"
"I was only trying to help him," my mother replied. "Have you seen his poor face?"
"Yes, I have seen his poor face," said Aunt Giry. "And I hope to see it many times in the future, without that horrid thing hiding it!"
"Nonsense!" my mother snapped back. "He's not fit to be seen!"
I could not understand why my face should be the cause of such conflict. All I could manage was a feeble: "Please.please stop arguing."
My mother glared at me. "Then end the argument!" she said. "Put on the mask!"
"No!" I cried, finding enough courage within myself to rebel against this strange, harsh request. "I won't!"
"Very well then. Get him!"
Her servants lunged towards me, but I was too quick for them. I wriggled out from my aunt's protective grasp, flung open the door, and made a dash up the staircase to my room. Unfortunately, the servants caught up with me, and they knocked me onto my bed. Two of them fell on me, along with that horrid housekeeper.
I tried in vain to wriggle out from beneath their grasp, but they held me down fast by the arms. Then I gave up, and let them do it. I hadn't a fight left in me, and my mother had the mask.