DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for the plot, and the characters you don't recognize, such as the son and two daughters, their spouses, and their children. If I did own Phantom of the Opera, I'd be off dragging Raoul on blind dates with my friends, shutting Christine up in a closet, and pushing Erik and Meg into locked rooms together.
"Erik..." She whispered my name in one of the brief moments between reality and dreams, her mind suspended for a mere moment in the world we shared together, the world of our love. A true story of Beauty and the Beast, a lovely young girl who had fallen in love with a monster years before. She had taught me to love, to love more truly than I ever had before. I was grateful for that, and I had kept her close for as long as possible. Now, though, we were both growing old, and she was dying.
My darling, my beautiful, wonderful wife...I had known her all the days of her life, and I had loved her for the same amount of time. Once, my love had been fatherly until it changed to the love of a brother, then to that of a dear friend, then for a time I abandoned and hated her. At last, though, my love returned, stronger than any love I had ever felt before. I had loved another once, but then I had realized how true she had been to me, and how dearly she had loved me even when I had left her without a word.
She was the best part of my life, and our children...we both doted upon the children she had borne for my sake, until we realized that if she was forced to go through the pains of childbirth again, she would leave my life forever. At that time, we had a son and two daughters, two daughters who quite fortunately took after their mother in looks, but shared my 'astonishing gift', as she called it, for music, and a son who loved to dance as his mother did, but shared my pale complexion and dark hair. All three of our children had deep, rich brown eyes, as both she and I did.
Now, though, they had all grown and married and left our house. They had rejoined us, they with their spouses and children, at their mother's death bed, and were gazing at me as I reminisced about how I had met the woman I loved, tears streaming down my face. I didn't wear a mask in front of them...their mother had forbidden it after our marriage, telling me that she loved me, and anyone would be a fool to fear my face. Our children had never been spared the sight of my face, and they had decided to find spouses who did not fear me as others had before them. We were a happy family, but now the woman who held my heart and soul captive with a single glance was going to leave all of us forever. Reaching up, I touched her cheek, then lowered my lips to hers. We were both old and wrinkled, neither of us even close to looking like we had once...my deformity was even hidden by my wrinkles, a fact for which I was actually grateful...but she was still the beautiful young girl I had played with, doted upon, taught, abandoned, hated, and loved. She was mine.
"It is time, my children," I murmured to our children and grandchildren, "for you all to hear our story." Looking down at my wife, I smiled, seeing her gazing at me adoringly, the way I was gazing at her. "I want you to listen carefully...and learn about Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, and Meg, the woman he loved..."