Little Lotte- ok... slight Emo rant, as Munchkin put it, but really sad. Just warning you, for I cried when writing it. And it is something that certain someone this is based from would do -looks up at Erik innocently, who just rolls his eyes- Don't worry, I'm sending Erik back to your home.

Yes, actually related this to English class, woot woot!

Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, next one will be longer.

Chapter 23

Erik took of his porcelain mask, placing it down upon the night stand, then joined me in our bed.

"Why must you were that, My love?" I asked, running my hand down his cheek, following my skin with my lips.

"When you are beautiful without it?" He smiled faintly, returning my kiss.

"Love has blinded you, Mon Ange." He said plainly, wrapping his arms around me, in our usual embrace.

"Love has not blinded me." I protested, bringing his face closer to mine.

"It has opened me eyes, so that I see the real you, not just your flesh." He kissed the top of my hair.

"You truly are an angel. Good night, Mon ange."

"Good night Erik."

After Erik succumbed to his slumber, as slyly as I could, I slipped out of bed, gently taking his mask into my hands, and walked out to the sitting room. After rummaging around I found were Erik had unknowingly placed my cloak down when I arrived home, and pulled out the jar I had bought at the Rue. I began my work.

I didn't expect this to be such tedious work, but alas, it was. The wax kept harding before I had it molded correctly, which made me have to stop, heat it, and try again. Finally I figured out how to hold the wax just high enough above a candle to keep the wax soft, but not melting. I used his mask as a template for the new one, but it would have taken half the time if I could have built it off of his face, but I wanted it to be a surprise.

He deserves this, why shouldn't he be happy? Why shouldn't he be allowed out into the world, Without fear of rejection? He is better than all of them.

After hours of molding the wax, I held the mask out at arm length, examining it.

It look perfect.

From the large forehead, high cheek bone, flared nose, slight bag beneath the eye hole, indent above where his perfect lips will sit. Everything matched his face, except for the lack of an eye brow.

An eyebrow. How should I go about putting on onto the mask? If I was to etch one into the wax, it would complete the replica, but won't people notice it doesn't move? But on the other hand, people might stare if he doesn't have on.

He needs one, but what would it be made of?

I looked around for inspiration, my eyes falling upon a brilliant white quill.

That's it!

Using some black ink from one of his jars, I painted onto the mask, digging the tip of the quill into the wax, to give it the appearance of actual hair.

When I was satisfied with the results, I wrapped the mask in a simple piece of silk, attaching a small note to it.

My Love,

now the world shall see you

and embrace you.

I returned his usual mask to it's rightful place on the night stand, and returned to mine, beside my Erik.

Now all I have to do is find some way to tell him.

I shivered at the thought, and tried to push it out of my mind, but it wouldn't leave. The stories my father told me about haunted my mind. The stories about the women I am named for, my mother.

Mother had been so carefree, loving, and gentle. The way a wife should be, the way a mother should be. He told me how excited she had been, when she found out. She always wanted children, especially a girl. She was perfectly healthy, not even falling to Morning Sickness in the beginning. But on that day, after I was handed over to the nurse to be cleaned, something happened. Even the doctor had no idea what, or why, but her life slipped away, just as I began mine.

Father always told me about her, never wanting me to forget how much he loved her. Even after he married the mother I grew to know and love, he talked about her. I was told I looked just like her, and now that I am older, I know I do. My only memory of her was the photo father used to carry. How many nights I would steal the picture from him, to glance at what he had lost. When I look into the mirror, I can see her. The women who looks back at me is the same from the photo.

Please God, don't let me share her fate. I ask of you, just this once, don't take me from my angel, don't kill his sole the way you killed my father's. You have done enough damage to his life, spare him of this, please.

Erik stirred, wrapping his arms around my waist. His breath skimmed the surface of my skin.

I want this, I really do. Please God, don't think me cruel, don't think me like Lady Macbeth, for I would never do such things, I am not wicked, I don't wish harm upon this ch- I Want this to happen, I love Erik, and I want a family with him, but I can't leave him. You must understand, if only you could find mercy on him. I don't plea for my own sake, I am not frighted of death, we all must meet it when you choose, but I fear for the living. I fear for the mourning. I know My Erik, he will die inside, he will continue to live, no matter the pain, but his soul will be lost, forever. Don't kill his beautiful soul, non who have walked this earth have been so great inside, besides your own son, and non shall walk again. Don't end his happiness as it has just began.