Dislcaimer: No...I do NOT own Phantom...cries

It's a little shorter than usual. Sorry!

Chapter 3

I sat at the desk in the room Erik had let me use. I was sketching. Erik had given me some charcoal and paper, saying that he was partially an artist as well.

I was drawing bodies of women, naked bodies. Perhaps not considered proper for a lady to draw, but I did anyway. My women had long dark hair and round faces and plump lips. This was basically the only way I found comfort. I drew the curve of one woman's waist, achieving the perfect line.

It had been 3 days since Erik brought me to his home. And I looked back on the last few days, it all seemed like a dream. Who would ever imagine staying in the Opera Ghost's home?

I drew a woman's face. She had big eyes and long hair. But her face was sad. I seemed to project all my emotions into the expressions of my people. I couldn't help it, I was sad. I wasn't even sure why. I had been given an escape, if not forever at least for today.

Then, jolting me out of my thoughts, Erik knocked.

"Come in," I said. He opened the door to my room. The door squeaked.

"I was just wondering as to what kept you occupied for so long, you've been quiet for hours."

"Oh, I'm just sketching." I said putting down the charcoal and turning to look at him.

"May I see?" He said. He came to stand beside me.

"I guess, they aren't the best of course." I handed the drawing up to him. He examined it, his yellow eyes darting back and forth across the paper.

"The anatomy is excellent. Do you require books?"

"Books?"

"Art books, I have many, they're in my library. I'll take you, but before we go, wash your hands." I looked at my hands. They were covered in charcoal.

"Yes, of course." I went to the bathroom, shut the door, and started to wash my hands, running the jasmine scented soap over my fingers.

But suddenly in the corner of my eye, I caught movement. I turned but whatever moved was always out of my vision. All at once, it came into my view.

My father.

I screamed and threw the bar of soap at him. I then tried to step backwards and fell; my hands had dripped soapy water onto the floor. Then in the blink of an eye my father was gone.

Without knocking, Erik quickly entered the bathroom.

"What happened?" He asked urgently.

I must have still been delusional for I just sat there for a moment. He asked me again; this time I answered.

"I saw my father, he was there." I pointed to where I had thrown the soap. He looked over but obviously saw nothing.

I heard him mumbling to himself. "Hallucinations…" he said. Then he helped me up and helped me finish washing my hands. Then he led my to my bed. I sat down and shamelessly started crying. I had regained my sense by this time.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," I said over and over. He said nothing. I was afraid I was being a terrible burden on his normal lifestyle.

I put my bare feet on the rug at the foot of the bed and walked out the bedroom door. I made it to the front door. I stood there, my hand on the latch.

"Where are you going?" Erik asked. I hadn't even known that he followed me.

"I'm leaving."

"Where will you go?"

"I…" I hadn't really thought about that, "I don't know, I just can't stay here any longer, I'm troubling you." I opened the door and stepped out onto the rocks that were right outside his house. I turned back to look to him. "Will you take me back to the surface?"

"This is what you want?" He said, "You want to go back?"

"Yes, yes, I have to leave." I choked out. Then without another word, he took me back to the main level of the opera house.

There was no opera on tonight, it was Sunday and darkness shrouded the stage and the isles and the seats.

When we reached the top, I looked at him once more. "Thank you for all you have done." He said nothing. "Goodbye, Erik."

"Goodbye, Roxanne." I smiled slightly and I changed my direction to head to the front door of the opera house. I looked back behind me once more, but by that time he had gone.

I walked down the isle, dreading what would happen to me. I should have stayed with him I thought, I would have been much safer with him. I kept walking though. After what seemed like an eternity, I came outside.

It was dark but not snowy. I looked up to see the stars twinkling down on me. I was scared but at least I was free. But not for long. Because within minutes of me leaving the opera house, several policemen grabbed me.

I screamed and fought against them, trying to get away. But in the end, I was dragged to my house.

"Thank you, Monsieur, my daughter was just a little upset, I hope she didn't trouble you too much." My father was always polite to other people and to my mother and my sister. It was just me he was terrifying to.

I was taken inside and one of the maids brought me to my room. I knew that it wasn't the end of it. I knew any minute I could expect my father.

Just as I had finished this thought, the door opened revealing the one person I hated more than anyone. I backed away, but he cornered me. I saw him slip his black belt out of the loops and he slowly approached me.

That second, I made a vow, that I wouldn't talk to him, I wouldn't answer any questions, and I most certainly wouldn't yell as he whipped me.

"Where have you been?" He asked in a mock calm voice.

I said nothing.

"Where have you been?" My father asked again putting emphasis on the word "where."

I looked down at my feet and still refused to answer.

"Fine, you won't talk? I'll make you talk," He sneered at me. That instant with his free hand he grabbed my long dark hair and threw me to the ground on my hands and knees. That's when the first lash came.

I felt a sharp pain as his belt came into contact with my back. Over and over again, the pain came. But whatever came, I didn't make a sound.

At last, it stopped. And he left, not saying anything else.

I lay on the floor, still in pain, almost unable to move. I touched my back and I felt wet. Blood. Just more scars to add to my collection.

I thought I saw a movement in the corner of my eye. No. Not again. No more hallucinations. I looked in the direction that I saw it. But it wasn't a hallucination at all.

Outside the glass door to my balcony, there were two glowing orbs. Two glowing yellow orbs.

Back in Erik's home, I lay on my stomach, my gown pulled down baring my back. Erik was washing my back with a warm washcloth. But I was barely aware. All I knew was that there was a small stinging pain in my back and it didn't hurt nearly as much as the belt did.

When Erik finished, he turned around to allow me to pull up my gown again.

"I'm done," I said and he turned back. "How did you know?" I asked.

"After you left, I went to the roof to watch you. I saw you taken by the police and after that I just followed your footprints."

"I'm such a fool," I said in a whisper.

"Yes, you are," He said. I tried to get up but lost my strength and landed back on the bed. "I had no idea it was so bad. I knew it must be bad enough, but your father is such a beast. Excuse me, but that man, if he can even be called that, is a beast. Look how much he has harmed you, you have scars on top of scars. No young girl should ever have to endure such cruelty."

I didn't know what to say so I remained quiet.

"Is there anything else you will require this evening?"

"No, thank you, Erik."

With that he shut off the lamp and left me alone. I just lay there for a while, my mind blank. There was still a faint pain but it was fading. And so was my fear.

"Faintly I smell the color," I recited.

"Faintly I see the love.

Faintly I wish to be in it.

It's something I was void of.

'Paint it over' she told me.

'Paint it with love'

Now I sit, painting it over.

I paint my life over."

It was a poem I once read in my books, I couldn't remember the author. I don't know why I thought of it at that moment and I don't know how. But that was what I was going to do. Paint it over.

Okay, that's the next part! I hope you like it, as for the crappy poem, I wrote it myself, I am just talented like that. Shya, right. Anyway, I hope you like it! And remember, reviewing is good!