Erik: My life, shattered. My heart, broken. My entire existence had been erased, burned, and mutilated. I clung to the last vestiges of sanity as I lay upon my bedroom floor. I sorted through the piles of clothes that had been dumped from my armoire. I heard Ann and Meg talking quietly together, and my heart bled.

I had ruined everything for them, their careers, their lives, even their homes were destroyed. Unlike the other ballet rats who could return to their guardians homes after the fire, Meg had lived with her mother, here, in the Opera.

I changed my wet, dripping clothes, and placed a wig upon my ghastly hair. I remembered how Meg had ran her hands trough that hair, and wondered how such an innocent girl could touch such a loathsome monster. I was a monster, indeed.

Murderer, Theif, Extortionist, and now Arsonist. I looked around for my favorite item, my handmade music box with the little monkey. It was nowhere within my bedroom, and I searched the bathroom. I came down to the main floor and Ann asked, "What are you looking for?" Meg herself gasped when she saw me, and I wondered what it was that made her stare so intently.

I told Ann, "I'm missing my music box. That one with the monkey. Have you seen it?" She told me quietly, "Erik, we have far more important matters than a missing music box."

I screamed, "Well I Want It!"

Meg shrank back but Ann stood her ground. "Get a grip on yourself Erik! We need to get out of this place before we're discovered. If you want the damn thing so badly you shouldn't have burned down the Opera!" She yelled at me and I glared at her. Meg was holding her arms and trembling, and Ann walked over to her.

She held her daughter close and whispered, "It's ok, hush. You have to understand that Erik...he has these moments..." I cast my eyes down to the pile of books and maps that Meg had gathered.

I picked them up and announced, "I'm going to Italy. Antoinette, you have been a gracious friend, and a wonderful person. Megan here is a sweet, young child with the rest of her life before her. I shall leave you enough money to find a decent apartment until you can find a good job. Meg, she has the potential to become Prima Ballerina...At another theater."

That was that, and I began to walk towards the edge of the lake. Ann asked me, "Wait, what about us? Your just going to leave?" I looked back at her. I watched as Meg loosened her grip on her mother and walked towards me. She asked gently, "Is Italy a nice place?" I was shocked at her boldness, but I answered. "It is the most gorgeous of all countries, with lush rolling hills, and the scent of the beach in every corner."

I remembered when I had traveled there, in my three month hiatus. Of course I had worn out my horse Ceaser by taking a longer route through Slovenia. This time I planned to travel straight east, until I reached the Italian border. Ann watched her daughter as Meg looked back at her. "Mother, where will we go? What sort of job could a widowed lady your age possibly expect?" I was outraged. "Megan Giry, you apologize right now. There is no reason to be rude to your mother!"

She looked down and blushed, as Ann folded her arms angrily across her chest. Meg whispered, "I am sorry." Ann came over to me and Meg, and looked at the lake before us. "Erik, how long does it take to reach Italy?" She asked quietly. My mind reeled and I became dizzy. Were these two women asking me to take them to a different country? I doubted they could even speak anything other than French and English! "What exactly is your plan?" I asked.

Ann looked at her daughter, who looked at me. "We'd like to go with you, as company. Your appearance may shock people, but with two ladies by your side, they may not question you." I admit Ann had a point.

If I ventured about as before, when I had been alone, people would stare at me and make rude remarks, yet if I was flanked by two kind women, people would perhaps not give me such a hard time. I looked at Megan, who was still dressed in her Don Juan costume.

I told them, "You must check on your apartment here. Take whatever has not burned, and change your clothes. I will meet you at the Rotunda side of the Opera. IF you are not there by exactly 1:05 a.m., I am leaving." Meg looked at me and smiled. "Thank you." She said quietly.

I nodded at her, and watched as they descended into the water.

Meg: I don't know what possessed me to go with Erik. He was a known criminal, an arsonist, a murderer, and possibly mentally insane. Yet he was also intelligent, clever, talented, and well-dressed. I had gasped in shock when he appeared before us, dressed all in black with a soft, black wig.

His true emotions were shown, however, when he actually fought my mother over a silly music box. Inside that outward sinister appearance was a trapped child, a man desperately seeking comfort. I remembered how warm he had felt within my arms, as I trudged behind my mother.

We were taking paths I never knew existed, and walking, quiet literally, inside the walls! We came to my mother's apartment within the Opera, and came inside; not by the front door, but behind a large tapestry.

I decided to accept this peculiarity. My mother spoke harshly, "Megan, sit down. We must have a talk." I countered her, "Erik only gave us thirty minutes." She grabbed my arm and forced me down upon a chair. I gasped in astonishment. "Listen to me child. This man, this person, is a criminal. He has caused many deaths...including your father's." My mother's words stung me. "My father? Jason?" I asked quietly.

My mother began to tell me about Erik's life. She explained how she had cared for him for so many years, acting almost as a surrogate mother. I began to twist a small corner of the blanket that covered the chair. My mind became dark and dreary as I learned of Erik's extortionism from the managers, his deadly obsession with Christine, and his murderous lunacy.

"Megan, think clearly about your choice. We can leave now, and never see him again. Believe me child, if we stay with him, we will always stay with him." I knew what that meant.

It meant that if we chose to stay with Erik, he would never let us go. His jealousy, his rage, would boil over if we ever decided to leave him. Yet I asked my mother. "You've had that choice. For so many years, you could have taken me and ran away. Why?"

My mother waved her hand around the charred walls of her room. "See what he did when Christine Daae chose to give her heart to Raoul?"

That was all the answer I needed. I threw the blanket the floor and looked at my mother. She looked at me and we silently agreed. Erik was a desperate lunatic, who, if left to his own devices could bring devastation to hundreds of people.

He needed guidance, security. He needed us. Antoinette and Myself.

Ann: I had told her all I could. I had explained every small detail, and yet still we were packing and dressing. We didn't have much to pack, but that was good. The lighter the load, the faster the journey. To be honest, I cared about Erik. He was my friend and confidante. For years we had been comrades in the Opera Populaire.

I couldn't send him out alone in the night; I couldn't be sure that he wouldn't chase Christine and Raoul down from wherever they had ran off to. I loved my daughter more than anything, and if she could accept Erik as he was, than perhaps our journey could go along peacefully.

Of course I was unprepared, when we walked to the Rotunda side of the Opera, for Meg to actually slap Erik's face hard as he held onto the reins of three majestic horses.

He reeled in shock and I gasped. Meg began to scream at Erik, "You dirty, murderous heathen!" Erik was looking fast between myself and Meg, but I allowed my daughter to vent her frustrations. "How could you!...You ruined our lives..Twice!...and so many other people!...Poor Christine." Meg had begun to cry, and Erik jumped up on a large, brown and white Stallion.

"If this is the treatment I receive, I am going alone." He began to kick his horse, but I screamed. "Wait!" I grabbed my daughter and looked at her. Erik crossed his arms tightly. "I am waiting." He growled.

Meg wiped her tears on her sleeve and said to me. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just..." I knew how she felt, and I hugged her tightly. Erik was fuming, and I picked up my bag.

I turned to my daughter. "Stay or Go?" where the only words I asked her. Quietly Meg picked up her bag and attached it the white mare's saddle. She jumped up and I fixed my bag upon a brown and black mare.

We three looked at each other, and it was a silent agreement. Together we rode off into the distance, guided only by the moonlight and Erik's well accustomed eyes.