Chapter Two: An Escape and Return

The rest of the day was fairly weary. Raoul left a few minutes after I threw down Erik's ring. He told me that he needed to figure out where my heart truly lie, saying that taking off a ring wasn't simply enough.

Charles was completely hysterical. When Raoul left, he had sat and watched the door, crying uncontrollably. I tried to console him, convince him it wasn't his fault, but he wouldn't take it. He sat there, staring blanking at the wooden frame of the doorway, hot tears running down his face, eyelids growing red and swollen.

"Charles!" I begged, on my knees next to him, my own tears falling onto his little shaking body. "Please stop crying!"

Suddenly, his tears stopped flowing. "Mama," He whispered, in a much deeper voice than I have ever heard in such a young child. "I..I'm sorry," He sniffled, wiping his tears off his cheeks.

I let out a relieved sigh, trying to control my own whimpers. "Don't be sorry, Charles...You didn't to anything wrong," I took in a deep breath, and looked to the door.

"...Who is Erik?"

Charles' question nearly stopped my heart. My eyes widened and I stared down at him is disbelief. For the first time, Charles had said the name of his real father. "Where did you hear that?" I demanded, a sudden urgency in my voice.

Charles looked slightly taken back. He looked up at me, and not breaking eye contact, he whispered calmly, "I heard you and Papa talking. Papa said that you don't understand that Erik is dead. Who is Erik?" He inquired again, eyes bursting with a sudden hunger for knowledge.

"Erik...is..." I whispered, trying to think of what he was to me. I couldn't say he was Charles' father. I couldn't say he was my angel. "My old friend.." I finally muttered, breaking eye contact with Charles. He knew when I was lying. Just like his father.

"Oh," Charles said softly, looking a bit disappointed. "I'm sorry he passed away,"

I couldn't take this anymore. The lies were suffocating me. All Charles has to say about his own father being dead was "I'm sorry he passed away,"

"Charles, go into your room and put in your suitcase anything you want to take with you," I sudden blurted out, my hands shaking as I stood up.

He looked very confused, but stood up and ran down the hallway at a fairly impressive speed for such a young child.

I took a deep breath and looked down at the hem of my dress. My mind was being pounded with questions, and I didn't know the answer. Morals were the issues here. But my fading memory of his touch caused me to take in a deep breath, and make up my mind. I was leaving.

Rushing to my bedroom, I pulled out from the huge closet a large wooden suitcase, empty. Quickly packing all the clothes I would need for about two weeks and other things I couldn't go without. Suddenly, I found a fairly significant-sized pile of francs lying on the ground, under all of my clothes. A pile I never knew about. Bastard, I thought angrily, remembering his promise to give me any money I should ever need. Shoving it all in my bag, I took a deep breath, making sure I had everything I needed. Throwing Raoul's ring to the ground in a sudden flair of fury, I looked down to where Erik's still lay. Hurriedly, I placed in on my thin finger, grabbing the papers I left under the bed from last night and shoving them into the case.

Using all my strength, I heaved the suitcase up and waddled out of the bedroom to the front door, setting it down with an outburst of breath. Charles walked in slowly after, and he seemed to be somewhat dazed as he set his suitcase down beside me.

"Can I take Ayesha?" He asked solemnly. "She must be lonely when we travel,"

I pondered it for a minute, 'no' on the tip of my tongue, but the look in his eye told me that I couldn't refuse him this. "Of course," I sighed. "Go get her,"

He began to cry out for her, his voice echoing off the stone walls. It was a piteous, low, obsessive cry, and suddenly, I could almost hear Erik crying along with him.

A young maid, with long, blond hair and pale skin, Angela entered abruptly, a slight frown on her face. "Charles," She said calmly, looking down at him. "Please stop yelling...its distra-" She was cut short when she looked over at me, her mouth still hanging agape. "Madame?" Angela asked quietly. "Are..are you leaving? Without your-"

"Yes, Angela," I cut her off, tapping my foot impatiently as Ayesha came running at Charles, leaping next to him. "Charles and I are leaving...Don't tell my husband that you know.." I pleaded, speaking quiet enough so that Charles couldn't hear.

Angela shook her head wildly, and ran off, eyes wide. Charles, still having a confused expression spread across his face, looked at me gently. "Let's go,"

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Catching a hansom driver and giving him some of my limited funds, Charles and I hopped in the back seat, Ayesha sitting comfortably on his lap, all laying in an uncomfortable silence.

"We're not coming back, are we, Mama?" Charles whispered, staring at me.

I couldn't respond.

Catching a ferry, it was nearly noon. We sat and waited, seemingly waiting many months till we docked in France in the mid afternoon. We then grabbed another hansom ride, and remained silent.

A full hour and finally, we had reached our destination. The outskirts of Paris. I had thought ahead, realizing it would be fairly easy for Raoul to track us if we took a hansom straight to the Opera House. We would have to walk the rest of the way, which would take Charles and I a fairly long time.

So we walked. It seemed like years. Charles, who had decided to carry Ayesha and drag his bag behind him, kept getting tired and having me carry his suitcase, doubling my load. He seemed genuinely sorry whenever he looked at me, struggling to carry both bags, but said nothing, as we kept in our stillness.

Then, before I could even realize what was happening, Charles had stopped walking, looking up in amazement. Before I could question what he was staring at, I looked up. There it was. My angel's home. My heaven and hell combined. The building that had tortured my mind for so many months stood before me, threatening me with the shadows running off it in the setting sun. Remembering solemnly that it was Sunday and no performance would be scheduled for tonight, I suddenly felt worried that lack of people would set the stage for something alarming to occur.

"Wonderful architecture.." Charles said in a voice that no longer sounded like his own. "Amazing detail..." His voice wondered off, and he continued to stare up at the Paris Opera House. "What is this place?" He asked, suddenly sounded normal again.

"Its...its...an opera house," I murmured, finding it hard to catch my breath.

I wondered silently if Erik would still look like himself. He had been a living skeleton before I had left. But, what do living skeletons look like when they die? Would he be the same? Would his face still send shivers up terror up my spine? Would I want to turn back? Overwhelmed by my own questioning, my breath quivered as I took a step closer to the Opera House, leaving Charles behind in my trance.

I heard a ring of a bell, and I knew Charles had dropped Ayesha. Forced back into my senses, I stared back at him. I barely saw his face before he darted past me, at a speed I would have never matched with him, Ayesha running behind. I watched him curiously, but when I saw him grasp for the handle of the door, trying to pull it open, I felt a surge of fear run through my veins and I dashed for him, running the best I could in my dress.

I wrapped my arms around his tiny body, and I felt him struggle to escape, pressing down on my arms and squirming all over.

"Mama!" He cried, letting go of his attempts. "Why cant I just go inside! I want to go inside!" He yelped, suddenly becoming what reminded me of a wild animal.

I took a breath and shut my eyes. He wanted to go inside. I needed to. Both of us were chosen by God himself to enter this building...to bury him, and bury all my memories, so I could continue with my natural life. Getting to my feet cautiously, I began to open the door, with extreme exaggeration, caught helplessly in the moment. I would need to stay quiet, I couldn't make a scene that I was back to my true home.

Charles watched me with a strange fascination, eyes nearly glazed over, he pressed his hand on the hem of my dress gently. I felt the urge to glare down upon him, but I knew it would only stall me from my unavoidable fate longer.

Before I knew it, the only barrier between me and the inside of the Pairs Opera House was gone. Not allowing me time to catch my breath from the beauty of the interior, and the feeling of being home, Charles rushed ahead of me, walking slowly.

"Charles, wait for me," I whispered, knowing that he could not hear me, staggering after him, my legs suddenly refusing to work correctly. My hand grasped wildly around and I questioned silently whether I would fall.

Somehow, I retained balance, and my legs began to cooperate again. I took a deep breath, and standing at full posture, I realized that Charles was no where in my sight. "Charles?" I said, trying to make my voice sound louder than it actually was. "Charles?"

Before I could stop myself, I was nearly shouting his name, walking back and forth, heart seeming to put a rhythm to my aching cries. My mind was not working correctly, and I had forgotten my promise to myself to be silent and not attract attention to myself. Reaching close to hysterics, my shouts becoming louder, I rounded another corner, and was met face to face with someone whom I doubt I could have ever forgotten.

A/N: I know, I haven't changed much when it comes to cliffhangers. But anyway, I promise things will start to speed up. Thanks to all the reviewers, and I hope to get the next chapter up by Friday.

Black Rose37: Of course. Enjoy!

hisinspiration: Christine taking the ring off was meant to be a sign to Raoul that Christine's heart belongs to him (as you can tell, it was done grudgingly and deceivingly)

mrsphantom1029: Yes, that's what I thought. So of course, she did. Thanks for the review!