Christine:
Dazed, I allowed Raoul to pull me from Erik's home, crying freely as I stared helplessly at the shrinking house. Raoul rowed forcefully with all of his strength, as if trying to get away before Erik leapt out, demanding my immediate return. In fact, that was exactly what I was waiting for, what I was wishing for with all my heart and soul. I stared at the front door of my Angel's home as if I could penetrate it with my mind. Erik, I screamed silently, Erik, what are you doing to me? To us?. . .
We rowed across the glassy lake quietly, the only sound being the eerie echo of the water splashing against the boat. I thought that I heard my name being called and I turned to glance back at the shadows behind us. I realized with a twang of anger and sadness that he wouldn't come. . . When the small boat reached the middle of the lake, Raoul had a wide grin on his face, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead from the exertion of rowing. His blue eyes were on me, as if expecting. . . what? A laugh? Did he want me to kiss him? I was suddenly frustrated with his boyish innocence, which I had found so appealing before. I wiped my eyes half-heartedly looking out across the still, black waters.
"You're free," Raoul said suddenly, the relief in his tone causing an ache in my chest. His laugh was rough as it echoed off the invisible walls. "We're free! We did it, Christine! That man. . . that thing won't bother us any longer. . . I can finally marry you, my love. You will be my wife!"
I could only stare up at him blankly. He wanted me to do something, but I didn't know what. Finally, after several moments, I managed a soft laugh.
Though I showed Raoul a smile, I truly wanted to leap from that boat and attempt to swim back to Erik, even if it meant drowning.
The next few weeks whirled past, dragging me along like a scrap of paper on the sea. Raoul had been in what seemed like a mad dash to get our wedding in order. I suppose he blamed my impassiveness on the fact that I had been through so much hell. The truth was, my heart was no longer set on marrying Raoul, but how could I deny him this simple right after what I had forced him through? I would have laughed at such irony, but I didn't have the energy to. Surely I could not say no to Raoul now. It was too late, too late. . .
It's odd that I could grant Raoul this special privilege, when it was Erik who deserved it most. . . I could never push him out of my mind, not even for an instant. Those pleading eyes, that mournful wail. . . It broke my heart to think of it, and more than once I wished to die for what I did to him. What if I hadn't tried to deceive him? I'd ask myself, rocking back and forth as I unconciously tried to remember that secret music that was ours alone. What if I hadn't torn away his mask? What if I had just said "Yes" when he first asked for my hand? My head was so filled with "what-ifs" that I felt as if it whould explode.
Most of my time was spent sitting in from of my fire place, staring past the flames that dance around. I'd hum to myself, mumbling the words to the songs that remind me of him. Those flames. . . I'd seen them more than once dancing in Erik's golden eyes as he moved around like a panther. . . Those violent rages, I think, are what had finally forced my innocent mind to see him as a monster, and not as the true Angel that was there.
I was never allowed to speak of him with Raoul, not even to hint at him. Had Raoul known that he was on my mind every waking moment, he himself would have flown into a rage almost as bad as Erik's. Raoul had even hampered my singing without knowing it. . .
I had been humming an aria from Faust, rocking in my chair, I stared at the fire distantly and I suddenly sang:
Past the point
of no return,
the final threshhold -
the bridge
is crossed, so stand
and watch it burn. . .
We've past the point
of no re-"
There was a loud crash behind me and slowly I turned around. Raoul stood there, his shoulders hunched, his breath coming in quick gasps. His fists clenched and unclenched; the fire cast shadows across his face, illuminating his enraged bloodshot eyes. He stared so viciously at me that I stood without knowing it, trying to edge away. He stared at me, and I felt as if I would burst into flame. Coming closer, he seemed to snarl. . .
"Raoul," I whispered. "Raoul, my dear, what's come over you?"
He flung the chair I had been sitting in to the ground with such force that it shattered. "You're singing his music," he growled. As he came closer, I could faintly small the wine on his breath and clothes. "That thing. . ." His voice suddenly became louder, "Why are you singing that monster's song? Why do you mope over him when it is I who truly suffers? You lied to me, Christine! You kept returning to that Demon's lair while I waited in fear, while I tried to rescue you!"
There were tears in his eyes as he pinned me to the wall. "Why do you care about that beast so much?" he cried. "He was a murderer! He tried to kill me, for Christ's sake!"
I bit my lip to keep from crying, the alcohol on his breath becoming more obvious. "Raoul, you're scaring me. . ."
"Am I?" he said sarcastically. "Do you know, the whole time we've been here, you haven't once tried to thank me for trying to rescue you from that wretched monster? If it weren't for me, he would have kept you - "
"But you didn't, Raoul!" I screamed in frustration. My eyes met his and we were both on the verge of weeping. But I couldn't help it. . . "You didn't save me, you made things worse! I had to save you - "
I cut myself off with a gulp as he seemed to grow larger, his face twisting in pain and fury. He raised a fist suddenly and held it there, his breathing loud and uneven. I turned my head and closed my eyes tightly, waiting for that explosion of pain. When nothing happened, I risked a glance and saw that he still had his fist raised, his hand trembling. His eyes were clouded, unsure of what to do. The confusion was written on his face, etched into the dark circles beneath his eyes.
"I'm sorry Christine," he mumbled softly. I could hear the anger in his wavering voice still, but he had contained it for the moment. He rushed out of the room with the grace only drunkness could give, slamming the door shut.
The next day, he sent me chocolates and red roses; he even went so far as to buy me a diamond necklace which I never wore. Of course, with a soft smile, I forgave him when he apologized for his roughness and denied that he believed what had been said, knowing full well that he was lying.
(Author's Note: Like it? Hate it? Too long? Please review!)