Sorry for the last chapter being all sad. But hey, Amile's life has never been very perfect, has it? I'll try to make up for it somehow. And the weird thing was today on the radio, they played 'Something I Can Never Have' and I was like "Hey! I know that song! That's the song Erik was singing" out loud. My friends were all confused. It was pretty funny. Anywho, I hope this next chapter gives you all the warm and fuzzy feeling that you like so much! Now read little humans, reeeaaadddd!
Chapter 33: The Story With No End
It was soon around 9 o' clock at night, the perfect time to go see Amile. Erik wanted nothing more than just to see her. He completely forgot about Christine and everything about her. Amile was all there was now. He couldn't get the picture of her on the bed out of his mind. She was bleeding so much. Her body became so weak in such a short amount of time. What made him feel so much more guilty was the fact that he hadn't heard her calling to him.
As soon as the clock by the organ chimed, he ran up to the room where Amile was. He didn't really care if anyone saw him. He only wanted to see her. Madame Giry was so worried about Amile and Erik felt grateful that Mme. Giry took the risk of taking care of Amile among so many people who were being cautious since Erik made his appearence. He rushed as fast as he could, thinking about how Amile had been so good about the whole thing. He wouldn't let her down.
Slowly and stealthily, he approached Mme. Giry's door, feeling fear rise in him for the first time in ages. How would Amile react to him being there? Hesitantly, he opened the door. Much to his relief, Amile was sound asleep, Mme. Giry sitting in a chair beside her bed, her face lit by a single candle on the nightstand. Amile was still unusually pale. The dark circles around her eyes had faded slightly, but were still there. Mme. Giry looked weakly up at him, obviously tired from watching Amile the whole time. They made a silent trade in position. He sat down next to his daughter, feeling his guilt come back. Mme. Giry smiled gently as she walked out the door, knowing that Erik would show nothing but love torward his daughter.
Erik felt hot tears come into his eyes. His daughter's pitiful body laid in front of him. Her breath had evened out finally. He stroked her hair gently, feeling every strand brush against his palm. He engraved the feeling into his memory. Closing his eyes, he felt the tears slide down his cheeks. He took his mask off and wiped them away. Then he heard the voice that he had wanted to hear all day and night.
"Why are you crying daddy?"
His eyes shot open to see Amile's eyes staring up at him. They were reduced to a dull gray color from her weakness. Her head remained on the pillow as she stared up at him. He didn't know how to answer. There were so many reasons that the tears came, but he couldn't think of one.
"Amile..." he whispered.
She smiled up at him so gently that he could have sworn he was looking directly at an angel. He choked back more tears and kneeled next to her. "I'm so sorry." he said quietly. She frowned then. "Why?" It was a practical question actually. His mind wasn't working correctly. No reasons came for that either. He smiled and shook his head.
"Nevermind."
He kissed her forehead gently and she smiled.
Her eyes had closed for about five minutes and he was sure she was asleep. Then she whispered to him, "Daddy? Can you tell me a story?" She sounded like a child. He shrugged and looked at the ceiling. "I'm not very good at storytelling." She opened her eyes slowly. "Please?" He sighed and thought of something, anything to make her happy. He smiled a sad smile then began.
"Once upon a time, there was a boy who was born not very far away from Paris. His father was a blacksmith and his mother worked at home. But they boy was born with a curse. His face was disfigured, but only in one part. He was ridiculed for it, beaten and rejected. His mother hated him for it, hurting him mentally. She gave him a mask to hide everything from the world. He became very quiet and never talked to anyone. His father died after awhile from a disease. His mother began to feel sorry for him. One night, he was crying in his bed, holding onto his mask. She came in and held her to him. Then, for the first time ever, she kissed him on his head. He felt a love that he never knew could exist. Then she left him. She never talked to him again. He became upset and ran away, not bothering to take anything but the clothes on his and his mask.
He wandered for days and days aimlessly. Then some gypsies found him and took him in. He became part of their freak show and they called him 'The Devil's Child'. He was treated horribly, beaten constantly. He thought he would die and he wished for it too. He was underfed and everyday he was hurt some more. They took away his mask and replaced it with a bag so they could take it off easier. Even if he did everything the gypsies said, he was still beaten.
One night in Paris, some little ballerina girls from the nearest opera house watched him. One girl stayed after the crowds left to watch him. She was not afraid of him, but pitied him. When he thought she had left, he killed his master with his own belt. Voices raised and the little girl took him away. He took the money the disgusting old man had made and ran. She took him to the opera house's basement and left him there. He made a home for himself in the lowest parts on an underground lake. He spent his days building his house and making traps in case anyone tried to find him. For years, he composed music and wrote stories. He made tons of artwork of anything he could think of. But he was very lonely. Until one night, he found an angel behind the opera house. She took his lonliness away from him. In exchange, he sheltered her from the world. They grew up together and were very happy. The end."
She smiled and sighed. "That was nice, but I don't think that was a good ending." He cocked his head to the side.
"Why not?"
She shrugged, her eyes still closed. "Because that's not how it ended."
He nodded and looked to the side. Then he smiled. She was right, it wasn't how it ended. He placed his hand on her's.
"You're right Amile, that isn't how it ended. I don't know the ending, I never heard it."
She smiled. "Me either. We'll just have to wait until someone knows the ending, no matter how far away it is."
He pulled his hand away and stood up, stretching. Then he bent down and kissed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open one last time and she looked up at him, the weak smile still plastered on her face. "Thank you daddy." she whispered. He smiled and nodded at her in a way of saying 'you're welcome'. Then she whispered again, "I love you." He walked back over to her and knelt down beside her again. "You do?" he asked. She nodded. "I always will." He kissed her again, this time on the lips. She smiled at him, not caring this time. No shock came, no fear, no anger. Just love. He stood up again and walked to the door, casting one last look at his sleeping daughter.
"I love you too."
