Authors Note: This story is about to get dark and sinister. Have you ever wonderedhow Mme. Giry becamea widow and why she stayed at that Opera House for nearly 40 years? (Of course we are talking about the ALW version and not the Book) Be Warned.
I tried to stay away from Erik as much as possible during my pregnancy. I only did what was necessary to keep him at ease, but never ventured to his lair or spent time talking to him. Of course he threatened me, but I was able to stand up to him, and eventually he disappeared into the shadows. The sad truth was, I feared for mine and my child's life. Erik had become such a spoiled brat that the mere notion of bringing a new child into the scene was unbearable.
I knew about his jealousy and hatred of anything that stole my attentions away from him. He had been content with Jason so far, as long as the man stayed away from the Opera. However, with a child to care for and raise I didn't see how I could continue to hold Erik's secret. I knew he would never harm my family physically; but physiologically he was quite a menace. I vowed never to let my children near him, lest they too would fall under his strange spell.
Life at the Opera House had become nothing more than, well, a great pain in my neck. The customary procedure when a young ballet dancer became pregnant was to hold her spot for up to ten months until she was able to return. If the dancer chose not to continue her career her spot in the troupe would be given to a new girl. I had spoken to Jason and he agreed it was better that I quit at the top, and stay home to raise our future children.
The only problem it seemed was how to break away from Erik's iron clasp. I had hidden myself quite well for nearly three months, but I was a fool to think Erik wouldn't figure things out. My life took a turn for the worse, and when I look back on those events I often wonder if my life would have been better if I had just left the deformed child behind.
I was living quite well under the Opera House. I had a monthly paycheck, a good friend, or so I thought, and free entertainment. My masterpiece Don Juan Triumphant was coming along pleasantly. I had also discovered a great pastime of chasing stagehands around the cellars. My favorite toy was Joseph Bouquet. I would hide in the shadows until he approached, and then jump out behind him, thus ensnaring him in my game of cat and mouse, with him chasing me and me chasing him. It was grand amusement. It was also marvelous to sneak into the ballet brat's dressing rooms and listen to their spiteful gossip. The most important news could be gathered from them.
Yet all this leisure would often bring me sorrow as I would wonder through the halls alone. I was melancholy at times, and frequently would find myself at the top of the roof, contemplating my solitude and anguish. All my life all I had ever wanted was to be accepted, to be cared for and loved, yet that was the most elusive idea I could never grasp. At first my friendship with Ann had been wonderful, days spent talking and laughing, her warm presence by my side, and yet now she was running form me, hiding the child that grew in her belly.
I couldn't understand why she would run from me; I was quite a tender man. The least idea in my mind was ever to harm an innocent child. Children were precious, the future of our world, and I only wanted Ann to allow me the gift of knowing her exquisite children. I confronted her several times, but she would swerve my assaults and walk away.
I had once yelled at her "You never walk away from The Phantom!" "You never walk away from Erik!" It had caused something deep within me to break, and I spent the rest of that night sobbing into a glass bowl, which I sent as a present to Antoinette; my tears in a fragile glass bowl. I finally stopped talking directly to her, and merely hid among the shadows. That was all I had become, a shadow, a black, empty nothingness. Even my music suffered.
Don Juan became miserable and the only notes I could bring myself to play were funereal requiems. I wondered if Jason had such a voice as I, and would he be able to sing a little baby to sleep. I sometimes practiced, singing ordinary lullabies and diminutive ditties, and even began to sew a small blanket for Ann's child, but threw that away because I knew she would never accept it. Rather, I immersed myself in building and carving a miniature replica of the Opera Populaire.
I added dolls and props, and would even practice bits of my Don Juan with the little carved figures. It passed my tedious days and occupied my sleepless nights. Perhaps if Ann would allow it, I could present the miniature Opera House to her child if it were a young daughter.
The days now seemed extensively tormenting, and soon I learned from the ballet brats that Antoinette Giry would not be returning to her ballet career. This sent my mind reeling in fervor; if she did not stay at the Opera, how could she be my friend and benefactor? She wanted to leave me, and I had to make sure that never occurred.
I had spent the past few days in my home, tired, bulky, and quite content. Jason was working, as were our servants, and my child was due presently. The midwife had instructed me to stay in bed until the labor pains began, and I was passing the time reading a new book. Suddenly I heard a knock on the door. It didn't surprise me; friends and family were always checking up on me, brining me presents and chattering about my future child.
However, this visitor had surprised me. Erik, standing in the door to my bedchamber, dressed entirely in black evening clothes and a white mask. The servant came to my side saying, "I tried to keep him out but he pushed me. I don't know who he is Madame, shall I call the police?" I nodded my head no, replying "I know who he is. Let him be, and bring us some tea."
Erik came to the chair beside my bed and looked at me. He had indeed grown into quite a handsome man. Puberty still wasn't done with him, and when it was he would be exceedingly suave. I tried to smile but fear held my mouth tight. "I have come to wish you luck, and may God bring joy upon your child." His voice caressed my skin and I cursed myself for such impish thoughts. Here I was, married and nine months pregnant, having immoral thoughts about a man I loathed and feared.
"Erik, I do apologize for my recent actions. You must understand I only have your best intentions." He cocked his head. "Best intentions? Is it in my best intentions to lose the only friend I have? To lose the chance to see a child and watch them grow into a fine gentleman or debutante? Ann, never presume to know what my best intentions are." His voice was rich with sarcasm and I glared angrily.
He took my hand in his gloved one and squeezed gently. "I only want your family to prosper. I never want your children to lack for anything, and I've come today to give you a generous present." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. I took it and opened it, never removing my eyes from his. Inside the envelope I gasped. Sixty thousand francs and a note. I read the note and my astonishment turned to cold revulsion.
"You did what? I swear, what did you do?" Erik chuckled. "She had it coming, but if you had been there, would you have said I'm wrong"? The note was a newspaper clipping, announcing that my best friend, La Sorelli, had been arrested for murder of her abusive boyfriend, and the Paris Opera Populaire was searching for a new Ballet Instructor. I knew what Erik intended.
He looked at me quietly. "Ann, I never touched either of them, I merely set up the confrontation. He was drunk, she got sent home early from work, and now you are quite secured a job should anything ever befall your precious Jason." He spit out the words precious Jason and I knew this was what his manipulative mind was capable of.
Murder without murdering. He was a cold, calculating and deadly menace, and I screamed at him. "Nothing will ever befall Jason, nor any of my family! Stay away from me, stay away from us all, Get Out!" I hit him hard and he knocked the chair away.
"Ann, you may regret those words." He reached the door and stopped; I clenched my fists and seethed. "I love you Antoinette, and I love your child. I do wish you happiness, bliss, and warmth. Good Day Mademoiselle."