The next day, Christine woke up early and got dressed in her black lace dress. Then she gathered up some black - ribboned red roses and placed them on the piano. She was about to put on her cloak, get the roses, and leave on the gondola, when she remembered that she needed something to keep her calm while she was at the cemetery.
She grabbed a morphine container, stuck the needle of a syringe in it, put some morphine in it, and then pulled it out again. Then she stuck the needle in her arm, on one of the bruises that she already had from needles, and injected the morphine in her arm.
"Ahh," she sighed peacefully, then pulled the needle out of her arm and threw it in the trash. Then she pulled on her cloak and picked up the roses. She grabbed the rowing rod, stepped on the gondola, and rowed away.
Once she arrived at the cemetery about twenty minutes later, she sat down on the steps of Erik's grave, placing the roses down for a moment. "Hello," she murmured, sighing.
She sat there for a moment in silence, enjoying the peace that she was feeling, until she finally spoke. "One year, Father," she said softly. "One year exactly without you... I don't know how I've survived. I suppose it's the morphine - by the way, thank you for being a morphine addict at some point in your life; the morphine has gotten me through your death, along with other things. I suppose 'like father, like daughter' still hasn't changed between us... even in addiction." She paused for a moment. "Oh, by the way, the new year's masquerade is coming up in about two weeks, and I changed up your Red Death costume a bit so that it's a dress. It looks quite nice; I'll look a lot like you did... but, of course, I look a lot like you anyway."
Then there was another pause of silence before she starting speaking once more. "In case you haven't been watching me - which I'm sure you have -, I've fallen in love with someone, Father. A handsome chorister named Cameron Luc. He's English, five years my senior, incredibly handsome, and... well, in love with someone else." She looked at Erik's grave in despair, as though he were right there, in person, in front of her. "History repeated itself, Father; it repeated itself so badly that it hurts. This girl that Cameron loves... Emilie Chastain is her name - she's beautiful. It's really quite disgusting when I think of it. She's his age, and she's a chorister as well - she's a lovely singer, as he is, and he's wonderful because I was his Angel of Music - I still am, I suppose, although he's met me. See, I told you that history repeated itself!"
She sat there for another moment, fuming. "I'm going to win him back, Father," she said determinedly. "I'll win him back if it means killing anyone who dares to stand in my way... yes, I'm quite sure that I'll have to kill Emilie Chastain in the end. When Cameron betrayed me with Emilie, the urge to kill was so great, I thought I'd die of it. But now I won't control it. I'll kill her if that's what I have to do. I'm forced to follow this path to the end, no matter where it may lead. I swore to you that I'd live the life that you didn't, Father... and I'll keep that promise no matter what." She rose from the steps of Erik's grave. "I won't let you down, Father... I won't disappoint you!"
With that vow spoken, she turned and walked back to the Opera.