Anger
Upon hearing that someone like him was dead, he was immediately sorrowful, as well as a little curious. How did this young man die? he wondered. Seeing the look on Mercedes' face, he decided not to press her for information. There would be a time for that later.
Getting up as regal as a queen or goddess, she said to him in an oddly unemotional voice, "I am a little fatigued. I would like to go to sleep. Please excuse me." With that, she left the room. Now that he thought of it, Erik felt the effects of staying up for days on end, caring for someone sick, beginning to take its toll on him. He floated over to the couch in a dreamlike trance and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
"Catch that horrid witch-girl! Kill her! Bring her to justice!" angry people shouted. These people had once been her friends, once been her family. Now they were strangers, out to kill her for her crimes. She fled to the oasis, one of the few places in this vast desert where she could escape the mob's fury in the shadows of the trees. Those wonderful, protective trees that had sheltered her in her time of pain. She suddenly felt heat, heard the screaming of her plant friends as they died in the mob's fire. Was she to be condemned to a life where all of her friends and family would burn in Hell?
She woke from yet another nightmare, gasping for breath. Each night, the dreams got progressively worse, and her lack of sleep was taking its toll on her body. She was wasting away, a rose withering in the chill air of winter.
Quietly getting out of bed, she noticed that it was strangely quiet. Normally when she woke she would hear the sounds of music drifting into her room. Now, all was silent. Maybe phantoms do sleep after all, she mused. Creeping out of her room as silently as she could, she found Erik asleep on the large couch in the music room. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. Almost like a child. Or an angel. She noticed that he still wore his mask, even to sleep. Knowing that she should not and yet incapable of refusing, she walked to stand beside him.
Carefully, she touched the white leather mask that covered the right side of his face. Erik groaned in his sleep and moved slightly, but did not wake. Gently, Mercedes lifted the mask off of his face.
Erik woke in his music room. He must have fallen asleep on the couch. He sat up slowly and put his face in his hands, trying to think. Wait! Something was wrong! His mask was not on his face! He searched frantically for it, praying that Mercedes would not come into the room only to see him as the monster he truly was.
He saw his mask sitting on to of the pipe organ. Strange, he thought. I don't remember taking the mask off. He was about to go over and get his mask when Mercedes walked in. She was carrying a tray filled with various foods on it, and pretended not to notice that Erik was trying his best to turn invisible.
She looked straight at him and said, "I brought you breakfast." When he did not answer, she sighed, exasperated. Placing the food on one of the tables in the room, she picked up the mask that lay on the organ, walked over to Erik, and tapped on his shoulder. She handed the mask to him and Erik had an odd sense of déjà vu, for he now realized that she had been the one to remove his mask, his dignity. He spun around to look at her, to lose his sense to his rage for a second time, and then stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. Her face did not hold the usual fearful or pitying expression of all others who looked upon his distortion. They looked…the same as usual! She did not seem to see his disfiguration.
He vaguely remembered her saying that her best friend was like him. Of course she wouldn't be repulsed by him! He now felt extremely foolish. "What I would like to know is why do you hide in darkness behind a mask?" she asked him. "What could have happened in your past that was so awful that you will not reveal who you really are?"
"Why don't you tell me who you are, and why you keep having horrid dreams? Why don't you tell me why you cry without tears? Why don't you tell me why you were beaten?" He was furious at her for speaking the truth. She had seen right into his soul and dredged up a past that he had thought was dead and forgotten. He was even more furious at himself for reopening old scars in her soul. He could see that she was also angry at him, but curious as usual. Curiosity killed the cat, he thought to himself.
"Very well, Erik. I will not press you for information about your past if I cannot also answer questions about my own. I believe that I am no longer sick and I will now be leaving. I have been down here for far too long as it is, and I have an opera house to run." she said curtly. Embarrassed by her reaction, she added shyly, "Could you please take me back? I don't feel like swimming again."
He escorted her the whole way back, neither of them speaking. When they finally reached the mirror that led to Mercedes' room, she paused and said, "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I will always be here." She then stepped through the mirror and left the dressing room. He sighed and thought to himself, I wish that human nature wasn't so confusing.
