Erik: We had a quiet meal and talked to a Ski Guide. He took us outside to practice on a small slope with his skis. It turned out skiing was a bit harder than I had expected.

Meg, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of her life. By the time we had the basic understanding the sun had sunk low in the horizon.

Meg went into the main building for some hot tea while I decided to go to sleep early. On my way to our room I stopped at the stables and checked on the horses.

They appeared to be nervous around the unfamiliar stable boys, but there was nothing I could do for them. I read one of my books and soon fell asleep.

In the morning I awoke with the irritating feel of stubble along the right side of my face. The thing I hated most about my hair was that; while it grew quite naturally along my arms, legs, and chest; I was unable to achieve even a beard or at least a mustache.

The deformed and pitted skin along the left side of my face prevented hair from growing on that side, so I was rather embarrassed to have to shave only one part of my face each morning.

I took my mirror and razor along with my clothes and left Meg sleeping soundly in the room. I always tried to awake earlier than Ann or Meg, but often did not.

I hated for them to see me without my mask, there were times I even slept with it on.

Both women knew what I looked like, and it didn't seem to affect them too badly; yet I could never remove my mother's screams from my mind. From my earliest memories all I could actually recall was people's reactions to my visage.

The horrid gawkers in the gypsy camp; Madeline's and Marie's attempts to hide their disgust; and sweet Christine.

A young girl shocked to discover her Angel was really a demon, with Satan's face.

The only real compassionate memory I had was one, when Meg had so graciously accepted me as I tumbled into her arms, crying at the loss of my entire life beneath the Opera.

It was true, Ann and Meg were the only people who could look upon my ghastly face without fear or repulsion. But I would never make them suffer my appearance.

I would wear whatever masks, wigs, hats or make ups I could find; to make myself appear as a Gentleman of Society.

I finished my duties in the festering outhouse and emerged. The bitter cold whipped at my jacket and I trudged on to find Meg.

Meg: I awoke to find Erik already gone.

I hoped he hadn't started without me. Quickly I chose the least cumbersome dress and donned my hat and scarf. I had braided my long hair last night, watching Erik as he slept.

He was a rather handsome man; at least from the neck down. His face was not utterly devastating; it almost appeared as if he were burned. I liked his natural hair, so soft and white.

He always tried to hide it, but I wished he would stop hiding and accept who he was.

He was a kind, intelligent man with so much potential.

I blamed society for their cruel view of beauty. Lepers were spit upon and kicked, amputees forced into slavery and anyone with even a small mental abnormality was treated as excrement.

I had met many people with disabilities, either physical or mental, and they had always seemed so soft and gentle. Erik was honestly a genius, a man who could take the world by force; and yet the world would kill him for that small fraction of his face.

After I had braided my hair I slipped off the bed quietly, sneaking inch by inch towards Erik, until I reached his warm body. I leaned over slightly and gently kissed his tender cheek.

Immediately I ran back to the bed, stifling my giggles and holding my neck as a precaution.

Erik did not move, and I fell asleep, dreaming of the snow that waited tomorrow.

Erik: I found Meg talking to a young girl at the edge of the first building.

She smiled and waved as I walked over, and then introduced me to her new companion. At the sound of my voice the girl smiled and told me I sounded like an Angel. I said nothing more during our conversation.

Meg waved goodbye to the girl as we headed toward the bank of the mountain. "Are we going to rent a mule?" Meg asked. I told her yes, and we headed towards the pen that held the pack mules.

Two men at the bottom rented them to carry each person's belongings up to the top of the steep mountain; and two men at the top waited to carry the mule's back down after each person was at the top.

People could take as many turns as they wanted on the incline, but first they had to walk a twenty minute hike straight up. The man asked for our initials and wrote them on a slip of paper, placing the paper on the mule's collar.

He was ours for the day. Meg, of course, cooed and cuddled the little gray animal, and proceeded to name him Carlotta.

I laughed hard as we began our trek up the mountain.

Meg: The hardest thing about skiing was walking.

Always walking.

I was glad we had a mule to carry our skis and poles, or else I would have just stayed at the main building.

Erik and I discussed the astronomy of the Northern sky, vastly different from the North-Eastern sky of Slovenia. We were south of Achilles Heel, and now the astrological symbols rotated left instead of right. I asked about astrology; always a silly past time to me; but Erik explained the Gypsy lore that held so many people captive.

He said he knew how to read the Tarot, but I told him I thought it was silly. The only thing I could belive was the herbal knowledge that Gypsies gaurded. I knew certain remedies could work, and yet I was slightly skeptic about some.

By the time we reached the top of the mountain we were actually exhausted, and took a small break, drinking water and placing our skis on. We handed the reins to one of the mule workers, and waved goodbye.

I called out, "Bye Carlotta, you dirty ass!" Erik reprimanded me for such language, and I laughed. He was the only one who knew what I had actually meant.

We looked at each other, and Erik nodded. "On the count of Three. One, Two, Wait!"

I could hear Erik scream behind me but I was already off! It was exhilarating, almost as if I were flying. I screamed in panic at first, but I was actually having a grand time.

I shot past trees at breathtaking speed, sliding down the snow as if it were water. Erik shot past me and I pushed my poles, sliding along faster. It was so exciting and fantastic.

I flew as fast as the wind and as smooth as ice, shooting past Erik and screaming. It was so exhilarative, and I soon saw the edge of the slope. There was a large wooden gate that heralded the stop point.

I knew I was supposed to slow down, but I didn't want to.

I drug my poles into the snow and came to a slow down. Two people whipped past me as they stopped, and Erik came to a standstill. He was actually laughing. It was such a warm and comforting sound.

I came to him rather clumsily in my skis and we caught our breath.

Erik: I tried to make Meg wait for my count, but she slipped past me as soon as I said two.

I pushed after her and felt my heart beating. The speed I picked up was astonishing. I moved along in elation, passing Meg as she screamed in joy. I had never experienced such a rush, as if my blood were on fire and my heart was soaring.

I made tracks in the snow as I slid faster and faster.

Never in my life had I experienced such freedom. For too long I had been trapped beneath that Opera, never realizing the full benefits of the world.

Now I laughed as I realized how utterly pathetic my life had been. Half of it wasted, gone, and never to be brought back.

I came to the check point and slowed down, soaring past Meg as she too laughed.

Together we came to a standstill, catching our breath as we smiled.

"I want to go down again." I told her. She nodded and we started walking the long trek again.