Disclaimer: I own nothing. But, you knew that.
A/N: I've just started school again, so I don't know how often I'll be able to post. There are only two more chapters after this one and I still need to finish them. Please bear with me. Again, thank you for all the nice reviews!
Chapter 30: The Cathedral
One long year went by after Erik's death. I don't know what I did with myself during that time of grief. Jack was able to wrestle some money out of the bank account for me to live on. He came over every few days, making sure I was still among the living. I always dreaded those visits. He was constantly asking me if I wanted to come live with him. As if I couldn't take care of myself.
That year was a long one. I avoided going to the graveyard, wanting to remember him as a living person rather than a dead one. On the anniversary of his death, I convinced myself to visit his grave. Nothing had changed much. There were a few more gravestones and the trees were still as bent and twisted as ever. I placed a single rose beside his grave. No black ribbon; just a simple rose. My despair I kept inside my heart.
Another half year went by. June, the anniversary of my coming to Paris, came with a heat wave. I was tired of being cupped up inside the house. I'm sure people talked about the old recluse who lived in that house on the boulevard. A sudden inspiration came to me. Why not go visit Notre Dame? I had not been to the cathedral since coming to Paris, though I had long wanted to go.
I planned accordingly. I picked a weekday (in thinking about tourists) and soon I was off. Cafés, trees, people, lives, and water rushed past my vision as the hired car took me into the city. Notre Dame loomed over all, like a mother hen protecting the chicks at her feet. The memory brought back to mind a book I had read when a young girl, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I remembered the famous bell-ringer and wondered what made the bells chime now.
The cathedral is magnificent. Like the graveyard, if you have never been there, it would be well worth your time to go and see it. The building is built along a water way with trees and flowers lining the sides. Two towers touch the sky, housing the bells that toll. Smaller towers are placed here and there. I stood in the square before the cathedral, marveling at the size of the structure. Erik would have loved this building. I wondered why he had never opted to come here.
I entered through the tall double doors of the centre entrance. Statues of saints, swirling colors from the stain glass windows, and candles found their way into my vision. All those years of saying I would come see this place and now I came only after my beloved husband's death. For some reason it did not seem right. I walked toward the front alter and fell on my knees before the Almighty.
I prayed for wisdom. I'd lived for one whole year and a half alone and it had about driven me crazy. I had money, so I was well taken care of in that department. I was only 65 years old and very fit for my age, but I was still from the future. Living a life in Paris without my husband scared me now. What was I going to do? Answers came and answers went. Nothing seemed to be what I was looking for. In all reality, I just wanted to go home: to the future. My lips moved in silent prayer.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea rolled over me. I felt my body pitch forward onto the cold stone floor of the cathedral. Groping, I tried to find some object that would help me stand up. Intense pain shot through me with every move I made. To my body, I was on a rolling ship and about to be pitched over in the sea. I screamed.
The scream echoed up and down the church and it brought the priests running. Another scream tore out of me. Every movement, every flash of light caused pain. What was happening? I finally gave up the struggle to stand and collapsed onto the floor, body shaking. A seizure? I thought. No, this was something far worse.
Darkness crept into my vision. The colors of the stain glass windows- blue, purple, yellow, orange, red- danced across my eyes in a never-ending pattern. Make it stop. Make it stop. I pleaded with my insides. One last blood-curdling scream erupted from my mouth. The last thing I heard was the priests shouting for a doctor. Then I slipped out of time and space, into darkness as deep as hell.