A/N: Ok, I know, I know. I didn't keep my promise. But you guys, if you're reading, you should be reviewing, as when I don't get reviews, that makes me sad! Anyway, enjoy this next chapter and review.

Kathy .L: Thanks! Just keep reading!

MasqueradingthroughLife: Thanks for the awesome review. Mayyyybe its Erik...just keep reading and you'll find out.

Chapter Three: Confusion

"Christine Daae'...or should I maybe say Christine de Chagny?" Meg Giry's smirk hadn't changed one bit with time, and I found myself remembering clearly her bullying from my days as a mere chorus girl. "You're being quite loud."

Normally, when I was sixteen, I would have been furious at this remark, and would have argued that my screaming couldn't be compared to her normal talking, but I knew today that she wasn't exaggerating when she said this. My heart pounded as I looked around frantically, ignoring my childhood best friend in a mad search for my son.

"Christine?" Meg asked quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder and looking to my eyes. "Are you alright? You're pale..and don't seem like your feeling too well...Who are you looking for? Charles? More importantly, why did you come back? It's been so long since..since.." She whispered, looking behind her as if someone was watching the two of us. Suddenly, realization seemed to hit her and her smile grew a bit wider. "You're here because of the Opera Gh-"

"No!" I interrupted, shocked at the remark. "He's...he's...dead..correct? Why would I come here because of a dead man?.."

"Christine, Christine," Meg repeated gently, letting go of my shoulder. "We all know something happened...down..there," Her eyes gleamed as if she was utterly delighted to get to talk about something forbidden, just like she had when we were both younger. "He hasn't been seen in years...did you kill hi-?"

"No!" I said loudly, the very thought of murdering Erik obscene to me. "Meg, please..I need your help...I have to find him..he-"

"Find who?" Meg laughed delightedly, twisting my words in her warped mind as well as she could. "I do believe you're talking about-"

"Meg!" I interrupted. "Stop this madness! My son, he ran off! I don't know where he is! He's only five years old, have you seen a young child run by?"

"No," Meg mused, eyes seeming to glaze over. "No young children have been by this way...I haven't heard any young boys for a while either...Are you sure you're alright?" She said gently, her little eyes suddenly seeming very caring.

"I'm..I'm fine, I just need to find Charles," I whispered, shaking my head back and forth. I began to walk around Meg, when she held out a frail arm to stop me.

"No, Christine, you're not leaving until you explain some things to me," Meg snarled, face suddenly twisted in harshness. "First of all, why did you come back, if not to see the Opera Ghost?"

"Meg, do we really have to discuss-?"

"I'm not finished!"Meg snapped, stomping her foot down upon the ground as if that would get her opinion to me better. "Second, why isn't Raoul with you? Are you not his wife?"

I was silent. I had to think of a decent lie before she began to suspect anything, or find a way out of this situation and not be chased by Meg my entire time here.

"Christine!" Meg yelped. "Answer me! I know your going to him. I've cornered you, haven't I? Doesn't that scare you? Well, Christine, when you go down to him..when you leave everything behind again in your selfish little world, I'm going to follow you. Do you hear me Christine? I will follow you all the-"

I couldn't stop myself. Seemingly out of nowhere, my hand flung up to her cheek, sending a harsh slapping noise as her head flew to the side. "Be quiet, Meg! It's really none of your business. Now get out my way! My son is missing and you are only blocking my path to him!"

Meg said nothing, still wildly rubbing her cheek as if that was the only way to rid herself of the pain. Deciding to hurry away from her before she realized what I had done, I was on my way again, searching madly for Charles, not raising my voice as loud as before.

After an hour, I had searched everywhere available to the public in the Opera House for Charles at least twice. My world was becoming dizzy and I wondered in my delusional state of mind if I would ever see my son again.

Climbing down into the orchestra pit, I began to search there as well, and finally, not caring if I was caught, searched the empty backstage. Charles was no where in sight. Collapsing to my knees and starting to sob as I reached the dressing rooms, I tried my hardest to stifle my cries, as not to be heard by anyone.

Charles was gone. In my mind I knew it was true. The perfect son. The child I had dreamed of having my entire life. And I had lost him. My tears fell down upon my hands as I sniffled loudly, trying my hardest to remain in control of my emotions. I knew Charles wouldn't hide from me like this. Something must have happened to him...

As I looked up, my own heart nearly failed me. In front of me was a large door I had failed to notice. The one I recognized as my old dressing room. Taking a deep breath, I stood, using the door as support. Once standing, I felt different. Like I wasn't in control of my body anymore. My soul was looking out of a stranger's eyes. The hand that had once belonged to me moved upward against my own will, grasping the unlocked doorhandle, and pushing forward until the door was open. I tried to stop myself, convince my body not to enter the room, but I was no longer in control. I had already shut the door behind me..locked it..

"Christine."

The uttering of my name brought me back to reality with a screeching halt. I was standing alone in my old dressing room, in the dark. The full size mirror stood in front of me, seemingly glowing. My breath began to quicken as I looked around. Engulfed in darkness, I began to try and feel my way around, terror gripping me. I felt dizzy, the earth below my feet was spinning.

"Christine."

This time my name was uttered, I realized whose voice it was. The voice of a man who should have been dead many years ago. My heart pounded in my rib cage and suddenly, I let out a shrill scream. Panic overtook my senses and I was a wild animal, threatening to hurt myself in this dark room My mind was no longer functional, making me unable to reason with myself my own sanity. Running around like a madman, I began to run into walls, bruising and scraping my fragile body. Things began to fall over, and shatter as they hit the hard ground.

The voice echoed over and over in my head, and each time I heard it, it seemed louder, closer, putting me in a more frantic alarm until I knew it was touching me, caressing my cheeks, violating my own body. I shut my eyes, grasping my own shoulders, and falling to the ground, feeling pieces of broken glass cut into the side of my face. I would have normally gasped in pain, but I just allowed myself to bleed, curling into a tiny ball as I lay gasping for breath and crying as harder then I had ever imagined possible.

I laid there for a long time. Time seemed to go slower than ever before, and my breathing kept going faster, then slower, faster, then slower. The still sane part of my body told me to stay down here, where I was safe from harming myself, but the other part was screaming to get up. He was alive. I had heard his voice. Just as I had heard any person. I am not mad. I do not hear things. I heard real voice. Erik was alive. He was watching me. Watching every shuddering breath I took.

Erik was watching me. It sounded crazy every time I told it to myself. Yet, I couldn't get it out of my head. I couldn't tell myself he wasn't. The only reason he wouldn't be watching me now is if he was dead. And that truth was harder to accept. Yes..Erik was watching me.

Charles suddenly came flying back into my mind. My confusion of where Charles was became even more prominent now that my own mind was not working in a sane way. I tried whispering his name in my dark solitude. But he didn't come. No one came to save me. I was on my own. Charles wasn't here to save me. He didn't need me as much as I had wanted to believe. I needed him for this. If I was to survive in this trap from hell, I needed my son.

I gasped out his name once more, and when I heard no one, no footsteps coming for me, I sat up, feeling the dry blood across my cheek. Glass still stood buried under my skin, but I made no attempt to take it out. I had more important things on my mind.

I stood up and cautiously felt my way around the room, staying away from the mirror, which still seemed to be glowing, the best I could. Finally, feeling the wood of the door, I unlocked it from the inside and carefully opened it up.

It must have been very late, for none of the new electric lights were on. I glanced helplessly around, before sighing gently. I wasn't going to make any progress finding Charles in the dead of night. He has probably found a nice spot to lay down and sleep, and I knew I should do the same. Walking slowly back into the dressing room, I shut and locked the door behind me. I cleared the floor of the jagged glass with the heel of my shoe, piling it in the corner. Once I was sure I would not be on any glass, I laid down, shivering. Shutting my eyes, I tried my hardest to slip into unconsciousness. Sleeping had never in my life been so hard.