Chapter Twenty-five
Erik's Confession
"I don't remember where I was born, only that my parents spoke German to me. They hated me. My mother would hardly ever touch me and I had to learn quickly to care for myself. My father beat me without reason and I was forbidden from speaking in his presence. I spent the days alone, locked in my room, which was a small space under the staircase that had no light or window. They never kissed or embraced me. They never even gave me a name.
I probably had the mask since I was born. I hated it. It scratched my face and made it difficult for me to breathe and see but I learned very quickly what would happen if I ever removed it while my parents were watching. I didn't understand why I had to wear it, and I didn't understand why they despised me when I so craved their love.
One night I woke suddenly from a nightmare. I was terrified and wanted my mother. I sat there in the darkness for so long trembling with fear for I couldn't find my mask in the dark and I was forbidden from entering my parent's bedroom. Finally, in my terror, I left the mask behind and creeped as silently as I could toward where I knew my mother was sleeping. I knew that she wouldn't hold me or comfort me and that if I were caught I would be given the beating of my life, but if I could just see her face for a moment, I could go back to bed. I pushed the door open and looked at my parents in their bed. They were there and I felt safe from all the monsters that had been after me in my dreams. I should have turned around and gone back to my little room, but being a foolish and curious child I began to explore the room which I had never seen before, illuminated for me by the moonlight which shown through the window. I examined my father's clothes and shoes. I crawled under the bed to see what I could find. I saw a book, which was a thing completely new to me, and I marveled at all the funny black marks. I pulled myself up onto a chair so that I could see the things on a little table. There were little containers of white powder and bottles that smelt lovely. Then I noticed a large, heavy object sitting on the table. It drew my attention because it shone so nicely in the moonlight. I lifted it up so that I could see what it was." Erik stopped and burst into tears. Suzette held him tighter and wept with him. He caught his breath and continued.
"I should never have gone in there! Oh, why did I have to go in there? Why did I have to see? When I looked into the mirror and saw the monster glaring back at me I screamed and fell off the chair. My parents awoke and caught me in their room but I was still lying on the floor screaming with horror and I wasn't worried about them. I still didn't understand. I knew that I'd seen something terrifying, but I still didn't realize that it was my own face. My father must have seen the mirror and realized the cause of my tears for he grabbed me by the arm and held my head, forcing me to look in the mirror. 'There! There you are!' he howled at me in a rage, 'you wanted to see, didn't you? It's you, you little demon!' I screamed and screamed and begged for him to let me go but he held my horrible refection before me and wouldn't allow me to move. I shut my eyes and he began beating me with the mirror and kicking me. It seemed to be ages before he stopped. He didn't have to beat me. I had been more than punished. I knew then why my parents hated me, why I was never allowed outside, and why I had to wear the mask. I knew that I had always been a monster and always would be and nothing could save me from it. I promised myself that I would never remove the mask again. I remember my mother saying that I would die from the beating and perhaps it was better that way.
As it was, I didn't die, and the next day my parents dressed me and gave me a warm breakfast. My mother wrapped me in a blanket and the three of us started out towards the edge of town. She had to carry me, as I still couldn't walk from the beating I had received the night before. It would be years before I would ever really walk again. There was a gypsy carnival there and they brought me into a small tent where a man gave my father some money. My mother set me on a table and they left without saying good-bye or even looking back.
The carnival man unwrapped the blanket. He took my mask and I screamed and begged for him to give it back, but the man spoke a strange tongue and didn't understand and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. Next he took off the rest of my clothes and put me in a cage. He and another man lifted the cage and carried me through the carnival to another tent. I cried out indignantly for them to give me back my clothes and let me out, but they just laughed and so did the crowd of people at the carnival. They followed us into the tent where the two men set me down. They paid the men to look at my hideous face and broken body. I cried and asked the people to help me and make the men let me go home, but they only laughed and threw things at me. The torture lasted two years. During that time, I became little more than an animal, crawling around the cage and living only for the scraps of food that the people threw to me.
Then, one day my luck changed. The carnival went broke, and I was sold to a circus freak show. The man from the circus came and put me in some new clothes. He asked me questions in German and I was delighted to hear my own language again after two years. I asked him if I could have my mask back and he agreed, but explained that I would not be allowed to wear it during the show. He carried me to a carriage and we traveled to another city where I was introduced to the rest of the circus. He brought me to a tent where he introduced me to a fortuneteller. 'Take care of this kid,' he commanded, 'He'll be our best act once he's on his feet!' The fortuneteller made me a little bed and fed me more food than I'd seen in a month. She asked me my name and I told her sadly that I had none. She smiled me and went to her trunk, from which she retrieved a large glass ball. She waved her hands over it and did a lot of moaning. Then she held up the ball and seemed to peer right through it.
'It says that your name is Erik.'
'Are you sure?' I asked suspiciously. She held the ball out and said, 'See for yourself.' I held the ball up and peered into it, trying to see my name. I squeezed my eyes tight and I thought I saw something, but since I couldn't read, I was obliged to trust the gypsy woman.
'Oh yes, I am defiantly Erik.'
Within two weeks I had learned to walk again and the circus manager decided that I was ready to perform. He had drawn up a large poster of me with my terrifying face. 'SEE ERIK, THE LIVING-DEAD BOY!' he read aloud to me. I became frightened that I would be put in a cage again, but the circus manager had something else in mind. I was to sit in a chair on a stage while the people came into the tent. When the manager gave a signal, I was to remove my mask and all the people would scream in horror. I hated it. After each show I would cry to the manager to let me stop but he would just pat my head and tell me to go and play until the next show started. When I was finished, I was allowed to walk around the tents and see the different acts. The people were watching the magicians, the stuntmen, the escape artists, and the ventriloquists for amusement, but I was watching and learning. On my own I practiced each trick until I had it perfected. I had a plan; if I could learn to do an act like these other performers, perhaps the manager wouldn't force me to take off my mask in the freak tent anymore.
One day, I came across a man who was calling the people to go inside a large box shaped structure with walls made of black-painted wood. I approached the man timidly and asked what was inside. 'Well if it isn't the living-dead boy?' he responded cruelly, but he invited me to go through the black curtain and see for myself. I soon discovered it to be a house of illusions, with tricks of the eye and mind all along a dark corridor. The people pushed past me after they had shrieked with delight at each new deception, but I stayed and studied each one until I discovered how it was done. As I continued on, the corridor became lined with mirrors. I hurried on, wanting to get past my own reflection but I soon discovered another mirror before me, and then behind me, and then to either side. They were above and below me. I spun around, terrified, running through the maze of mirrors. I cried out and a hundred thousand living-dead boys cried back at me. Finally I emerged back into the light, gasping for breath. The man at the entrance laughed at me and asked me how I liked it. It was the most horrible thing I'd ever seen in my life, and I went back to see it at least a hundred times.
After weeks of practicing, I finally showed the manager all the new tricks that I'd learned and asked him if I could do them instead of being in the freak show. The manager was delighted and gave me an act to do in the center ring, where I didn't have to take off my mask. The act was a hit and the manager was very happy with me. He told me one night that the head of the guard for the Persian king had seen me perform and had offered him an enormous amount of money to let him take me to Persia to perform for the sultan.
My joy was short-lived however, for the other performers realized that I had copied from their acts and became jealous. One night, they took me from my bed and beat me badly. They demanded that I return to the sideshow with the other freaks and threatened me with death should I ever perform in the center ring again. Frightened for my life, I packed a few things and ran away that very night. I found the Persian daroga and told him that I would go to Persia. He looked me over and stared at my mask.
'Do you even wear it when you're not performing?' he asked me.
'I wear it always and I won't take it off. So, don't ask me.' I replied. He looked at me suspiciously and thoughtfully and said, 'All right then, you will do.'
The next day, we began our voyage to a place that I'd never even heard of before. When we had been on a train for a sufficient time and I had received quite enough questioning looks for my taste, I asked him if we would be arriving in Persia soon. He laughed and told me that it would be weeks before we were in Persia. He explained that we would leave the train in France, where we would stay while he finished some business of his. Then we would take a ship to the East. Even then, we would have days of travel and many stops before we reached the Persian capital, where the sultan lived.
'What is a ship?' I asked him, and he laughed again.
'A ship, Erik, is a thing that carries you across the sea.'
'But what is the sea, Daroga?'
'The sea is the sea, Erik, and when we get there you will know for yourself.' He chuckled for nearly an hour at the masked little urchin that didn't know what the sea was.
When we arrived in France, the Daroga introduced me to his servant, Darius. He explained to me that Darius lived in France and took care of the house that he had there. I wanted to ask him about his lovely gold jewelry but I soon found out that he was only allowed to speak when the Daroga asked him a question and even then he only said, 'Yes, Master.' The Daroga's house was very nice and filled with interesting things from Persia. When the Daroga left to take care of things, he invited me to join him, but I was still afraid of being seen and preferred to stay inside and explore.
I found more books and examined their pictures and letters. I understood that each different symbol made a sound, although I still couldn't match which ones were which. One thing that caught my attention in the books was the pattern of symbols that appeared on the corner of each page. It was a very simple sequence of signs and it was the same in each book. Once the sequence was complete, a second set of signs appeared and went through the same sequence. I soon realized that these were numbers, and I began thinking about them all the time. I counted them forward and backward and by twos and tens. It helped me to pass the time while we waited for the ship to come and take us to Persia.
Finally the day came and the Daroga and I went to board the ship. I marveled at the way the ship was made so that the wind pushed it across the water. I soon became afraid because I saw the large men who worked on the ship beating boys my age and younger with thick leather whips. I began to cry and asked the Daroga if they would beat me as well. The Daroga assured me that they wouldn't, but I was anxious to find our quarters anyway. The Daroga had been correct; I soon discovered what the sea was. Its stench burned my eyes and the endless and unmerciful rolling about made me sick the entire time. The Daroga left me alone in the room all day and I was glad, because I didn't want him looking at me. At night, he returned and would attempt to teach me to speak some Persian. I repeated the strange words as easily as I heard them and before the boat docked, I could carry a conversation in Persian without much trouble. When we finally reached the other side, I was so thankful I cried.
The East was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The people were different in color, dress and speech. In every city we stopped in there were a hundred things that were new to me. In one of the places we stopped, the Daroga met a man who sold him another boy, much older then myself, by the name of Ajay. This boy was highly skilled at martial arts and in particular the use of the Punjab lasso. The man led us into a dusty arena, where two men were armed with swords. I watched, terrified, as Ajay was thrust in the arena with nothing but a coiled up rope. The giant swordsmen advanced upon him but Ajay was too quick and he soon had used the lasso to snap the necks of both men. He left the arena without a scratch on him.
Once Ajay joined us in our journey to Persia, he and I became fast friends. He laughed at my card tricks and ventriloquist act and he taught me to use the Punjab lasso. At first I was worried that he would ask me to remove my mask, but he never did. We wandered together through the marketplaces and he began to call me his "little brother". For the first time in my life, I was happy. I had friends and I would soon be performing before the Persian king. But once again, my happiness what cut short. Ajay became ill with some sort of fever and had to be left behind in a small town. I cried and cried for him, but the daroga assured me that he would send for him when he had time to get better and we would be together again in Persia. I never saw him again.
After days of travelling though hot, dusty lands, we arrived at the palace of the Sultan and the Daroga led me inside. It was the grandest place I'd ever seen and I stared in disbelief at everything my gaze touched. The Daroga took me to his apartment, which was even nicer than the house in France, and told me that the next day I could do my magic show for the Sultana. I was very nervous and didn't sleep a wink all night.
When the morning came, the Daroga brought me to the Sultana's room. Her bodyguard came out and the Daroga introduced us and told me that he would leave me with him. The guard scowled at me and pushed me through the door. We approached the Sultana, who was, at most, three or four years my senior, and the guard went down on his knees and motioned for me to do the same. The guard told the Sultana who I was and why I was there and she eyed me suspiciously. I showed her a few of my tricks that I had learned, but she wasn't watching and I could tell that she was preoccupied with my mask. After a short time, she did just what I had been dreading she would. She demanded that I remove the mask. I refused, and the guard hit me for my disobedience and despite my pleas he torn the mask from my face. The Sultana screamed when she saw me and ordered her guard to take me to the torture room. I was soon to learn that the little Sultana was not impressed with card tricks, ventriloquism, and other kinds of circus magic. There was only one thing that brought joy to her little heart, the sight of a human being in pain.
The guard tied my hands, dropped me into a dark stone container, and put on the heavy lid. Once inside, I easily slipped my hands from the bonds as I'd seen the circus escape artists do. I reached my arms up as high as I could to see if I could push up the lid, but it was too high to touch. I jumped with all my strength and still couldn't feel it. The walls were just far enough apart that a grown man could touch the tips of his fingers to both sides. I began to ponder how on earth I would escape before suffocating when a river of foul smelling water began to pour down on me. In moments it was up to my waist and I was sure that I would be drowned. In less than a minute, I could no longer feel the floor I reached up and found the cold, stone lid. I tried to push at it, but only pushed myself beneath the water. I dove and pushed myself off the bottom with all the strength in my legs. As I came to the lid I pushed upward with my arms and it seemed that the lid budged slightly. There were now only inches of air left in the container. I went to a corner and, placing each of my feet upon a wall I attempted to lift the lid with my hands. I had run out of air and out of time and my shoes kept slipping on the wall. I flipped myself over and pushed at the lid with my feet, while I held onto the walls with my hands. The lid moved slowly and I found the opening with my head and shoulders. After a few choking and terrified breaths, I squeezed my way through the opening and dropped ungracefully onto the floor. When I had regained consciousness, the guard was dragging me through the halls of the palace. When he saw that I'd awakened he informed me that my escape act had been a hit with the sultana and that in her graciousness, she was allowing me to live. I would spend the night in the dungeon and the next morning, I was to return and she would try to kill me again.
This went on for nearly a week. I was lucky to survive each time but I knew that I wouldn't live for long in this manner. On the sixth day of my stay at the Sultan's palace, I was led, exhausted and terrified, to the sultana, who explained to me with great joy, as she had taken to doing each day, how she meant to end my life this time. Each day I had shuddered and wept and begged as she described the torture, but this time I had a plan. I tried desperately to control my shaking limbs and to make my voice sound nonchalant.
'I'm not afraid. I always escape from your traps,' I boasted to her, 'They are so easy. I could think of much better tortures than those.' She stared at me wide-eyed and asked me what sort of tortures I would use. I spent the morning discussing the most painful ways to kill someone I could imagine and the Sultana clapped her hands and laughed wickedly at each one. I had hoped that the Sultana would stop trying to think of ways to kill me if she felt that she could get something out of me. It seemed to have worked; the next two days she didn't send for me. But on the third day I was summoned to the torture room once more.
I was relieved to find that I was not to be the victim this time. She only wanted to show me how she had the new tortures designed just as I said. She sat me beside her and began to demonstrate them to me with live victims. Now it was one thing to sit and discuss such tortures hypothetically, but I had to sit there, trying to cover my horror, and watch the whole thing happen. When I was finally returned to the dungeon, I vomited every speck of the meager meal that I'd been given."
"Oh Erik!" Suzette exclaimed, "How awful!" He turned suddenly as she interrupted, as if he'd forgotten that she was there. Suddenly, he fell to weeping and cried out, "Suzette! Do you forgive me?"
"You didn't have a choice," she insisted in disbelief.
"I didn't have to help her! So many people died on my account."
"She would have killed you instead!" she cried.
"Yes. But that isn't all. I stayed there for over a month, devising new tortures for her. When she told me that I was her friend, I believed her. I became completely occupied with building newer and crueler machines for our pleasure. I even designed a labyrinth of mirrors and trapdoors, which was inspired by the house of illusions that I had seen at the circus and a picture of a boy being attacked by a monster in a maze that I'd seen in one of the Daroga's books. I was angry, you see. I hated the world for the suffering that I'd endured. My parents who hated me and abandoned me, the carnival crowds who jeered at me and hurt me, and the circus people who betrayed me and beat me. When I helped the sultana to kill, I was taking my revenge."
"No! I can't believe that." Suzette shouted, and turned away. Erik took her arms and whispered to her,
"You have to believe me, Suzette. I was angry. When people live their whole lives in fear and pain, they become angry. They do things that they know are evil. They do things that hurt and frighten others, because pain and fear is all they've ever known. They don't see the beauty in life; they don't respect life and how precious it is. They don't even see the wonder of their own lives and… and they don't always ask to be forgiven." He stopped here and took her small hands in his, "You don't have to forgive them, Suzette. Most people don't. But I am asking you to understand this, and to forgive me even so, for betraying my own piece of humanity." She pulled her arms down to her sides and looked him calmly and lovingly in the face. She said, "I forgive you, Erik. And I love you."
"Thank you, Suzette," he whispered. The sun was setting and it's lovely, life-giving rays touched every corner of the room. It chased away the shadows. It kissed and warmed their faces. It even illuminated the particles of dust into pretty, floating stars. They stared at it for a long time, loving its kind beauty.
Erik touched Suzette's shoulder and asked, "Would you like to hear the end of the story? It is much happier." She nodded earnestly.
"Tell me how you escaped from Persia and how you came to France. Tell me about the opera house and how you came to fall in love with the Viscountess." He laughed and continued his narration.
"As I said before, I had become quite a little animal in the Persian palace. The Sultana was my only companion and we were both heartless creatures and unsuited for friendship. Eventually the inevitable occurred; we had a fight. The Sultana ordered the guard to take me away and sentenced me to be executed the next morning. The guard dragged me back to the dungeon where he threw me down and chained my wrists.
'I apologize for not having any ingenious machines or trapdoors for you,' he hissed as he chose his weapon from the many hanging on the wall, 'But I promise you, I can make you scream just as loud without them.' He made good on his promise and by the time he had finished there was no need to chain me. I wouldn't even be able to walk to the gallows the next day.
Some time during the night, I awoke from a light sleep to find the Persian Daroga standing over me. 'Leave me!' I screamed, 'I hate you!' But he motioned for me to be quiet and he lifted me. The pain was unendurable, and I passed out.
I awoke to him softly calling my name. I opened my eyes and he said in a witty voice, 'You're going to Paris first class, Erik! There is food and water here for you, a warm blanket, and here is your mask. I brought you here and I'm going to make certain you get back to Europe. My, won't Darius be surprised when he opens this box!' I was too dazed to reply or to even understand what was happening. So I just curled up with the blanket and the Daroga shut me inside the box.
If Darius was surprised when he opened the box, he didn't show it. He read his master's instructions, dressed me, and gave me breakfast without a word. After breakfast he packed me a bag of things that I would need. We got into a carriage and he brought me to a place in the city where there was a little courtyard among the enormous buildings. In a corner of the courtyard, half hidden by trees, stood a monument of some sorts, constructed of large stones. Darius pulled aside a large stone in the back to reveal a passageway. Darius was still silent, but I understood that I was to hide in this dark place until other plans were made.
I ventured slowly into the dark, cold passageway, with only a lantern to guide me. I walked and walked. At first I had thought that the place was a cave, but I soon realized that the walls were too smooth and the steps that I tripped over every now and then were man-made. I was in the cellar of some kind of building. As I wandered further and further into the dark, lonely place I began to wonder if there was an end to this passageway. Perhaps it only wound around and around and then came back out into the light somewhere else, or maybe it never came out at all.
Suddenly I came upon a space whose size I couldn't tell from the dim light. I saw that there was a small drop ahead of me where the floor was lower, and black as ink. I sat down on the edge and pushed myself off. Instead of landing firmly on the black, shiny floor, I fell through it into utter darkness. I tried to scream but water filled my throat. I thrashed about in horror, for I had no idea what had happened. Suddenly I felt cool air on my head and I realized that I had found the surface. As you have guessed, I had discovered the lake beneath the opera house. The lantern was lost now, although Darius had tied the bag securely to my arm and I still had it. I was treading water in endless blackness to which I had no proof that there was an end. I began to swim, attempting to keep in a straight line. It seemed like ages. I began to wonder if I should not change my direction, as I had been swimming for many minutes and had found nothing, but resisted, telling myself that if I kept changing my course, I would be lost. Somewhere, there had to be a shore. I swam and swam, growing more and more tired every minute, but just as I thought that I would exhaust myself and drown, I cracked my head on something. I reached out and felt that it was a rather slimy wooden post, so large that I could just get my arms around it. I followed it upwards and found that it supported a wooden platform. I dragged myself from the black water and lay panting on the platform and considering what to do next. I needed shelter, heat, and light or else I would perish, but I had no clue where I was and I was swallowed by darkness.
Suddenly, from far away, there came a sound like something large and hollow being struck. It came again and again at equal intervals. I got to my feet and groped in the darkness as I searched for the source of the sound. I crawled upward through endless passageways. I had no idea what it was but I knew I had to find it. I followed twists and turns as I came closer and closer to the rhythmic sound, like a heart beating. As the sound drew nearer, it was accompanied by other sounds that I couldn't identify. They were like voices, crying and laughing. The sounds became one sound that was like a living thing. It was telling a story and other things were laughing and answering it back.
Now the sound was all around me and above me and below me. My grasping hands found a small door and I opened it just a crack. The light was blinding. When I could pry open my eyes, I saw below me many human beings, dancing and singing and making the healing sound that I now realized was music. I stayed there behind the door and thought of how beautiful it was and how lovely my heart felt as I listened to it. In all my life, I had never seen people making something beautiful for the pleasure of others. It was like a gift of love. I sat there for hours and listened, and as I listened I made my plan. I would live there, in that place of beauty. I would make a home for myself down beyond the black lake, where no one would find me. I would stay there forever and learn to make music and other beautiful things and no one would ever hurt me again.
By the time the Daroga had returned to Paris and found me in the cellars of the opera house, I had begun constructing my house by the lake, I had taught myself to read in German and was working on learning French, I had swiped a violin to learn to play, and I had discovered how very much I loved to sing. He returned many times to spy on me and tried to coax me back to the surface but I had no use for human love, except when it was expressed in the beauty of the arts. So I remained there for over a decade, building myself a dark world to exist in, and healing my tortured soul with art, books, and music, the only beauty I could see in mankind.
But as time went on, I grew into a man, and yearned to live my life as one. I began to leave the house on the lake more often to watch the people above me. I was not as cautious of being caught, and I began allowing people to see me. Perhaps I even wanted them to. Maybe I thought that if they saw me, they would try to find me and rescue me from my prison, but something else happened. They began to call me a ghost. This new position gave me great opportunities. I had great fun, playing jokes on the choristers and stagehands. I was able frighten the managers into giving me money, leaving me a box to watch the operas from, and doing many other things which the 'opera ghost' commanded. I enjoyed my new ability to control people and interact with them on my own terms but I was still lonely.
And then I saw Christine. Who knows how long she'd been there? She might very well have been there for years and I hadn't noticed. But one afternoon, while I was watching a final rehearsal from my box, I saw Christine Daae, and wanted her for my own. She was as lovely as I was hideous, as gentle as I was violent, and as kind as I was hateful and from the moment I first saw her, I believed that she could love me." Erik laid back and wept silently.
"What happened?" she asked, enthralled. Erik seemed surprised.
"You know what happened after that."
"I want you to say it. I want you to tell me how she left you." He shook his head sadly and turned away.
"If you were really such a hateful creature, as you say you were, why did you allow her to leave?"
"I didn't really love her, not at first. I thought I did, but how could I? What did I know of true love? I wanted to keep her for my own enjoyment. I yearned for her company with selfish, monstrous desire. I was consumed by hatred and jealousy for her young Viscount, whom I knew she was in love with. I would have left him to die in the torture chamber without any question, had she not stopped me. Yes, I cherished her and I worshiped her, but I couldn't love her.
But then it happened, and it happened all at once. You see, she gave me her promise that she would marry me. She didn't want to, for even as she pitied me in my agony, she couldn't forgive me my dark soul. I knew this but it had ceased to matter. I wanted her for my wife, dead or alive. But she looked at me in my horribleness, she kissed me, and she promised me that she would be my living wife."
" And then you loved her?" Suzette concluded.
"Yes," he answered, " And it came to me in such a sudden burst of pain, that I thought I would die. I sorrowfully told her that she was to go and marry the young Viscount, whom I knew she was in love with, and not to be unhappy ever again. And that is how it happened. That is how a monster won a soul." Suzette was silent as she embraced him. He was not crying now and his breath was normal and peaceful, as if he might fall asleep any moment. But he suddenly said, "And here she is now." And Suzette went to answer the door and let the Viscountess in.