Author's Notes: A rather old drabble (491 words excluding this author's note) which I happen to came upon. Decided to post this just because. I do not own Phantom of the Opera. If only... -le sigh-
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Erik is dead.
ERIK is dead.
Erik is DEAD.
Erik IS dead.
ERIK IS DEAD.
Erik is dead!
ERIK IS DEAD!
But why did he still haunt her?
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The Epilogue
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He simply wasn't content with haunting her at night. Now he had to linger in broad daylight too. A moment, be it conscious or unconscious, without his presence did not seem to exist anymore. He was simply everywhere.
Even with the covers pulled over her head, she could still hear him.
Sometimes his tone would be soft and gentle. He could be the picture of utmost tenderness if he wanted too. Other times (actually most of the times) he seemed to know nothing else but to antagonize her. He was spiteful, angry, and resentful. Rarely, however, did he stay quiet and pensive.
But now… he was being plain cruel. Just like most of the times come to think of it.
"Don't you want to go out in the garden, cherie? Le Vicomte is waiting for you downstairs."
They both knew he wasn't.
She curled into a fetal position.
She wanted to cry. She needed to cry. She desperately needed to bawl her eyes out.
The most that came out of her was a choked sob.
"Leave me alone. Please leave me alone."
The both knew he wouldn't.
"My dear, don't you know? Faith links me to thee forever and a day."
She let out a tiny sigh.
He was exasperating… so utterly exasperating.
But oh, how she used she was to this.
At first she used to cry. She would bawl and moan for an entire day, eating nothing, seeing no one. And he would be there. Mocking her state.
Yet he still made her feel so guilty… so annoyingly guilty. He would never fail to remind her of how she destroyed his life.
He was bitter… so impossibly bitter.
"Poor, unhappy Christine. Now what could possibly be wrong, angel?"
"You. You are wrong."
Yes. He. He was wrong.
"Me? My dear child, what have I done to wrong you so?"
His words dripped with concealed mockery. His tone, however, remained light.
"You're supposed to be dead."
She had seen it for herself… that advertisement at the Epoque. "Erik is dead", it says.
Erik is dead.
ERIK is dead.
Erik is DEAD.
Erik IS dead.
ERIK IS DEAD.
Erik is dead!
ERIK IS DEAD!
But why did he still haunt her?
"Yes. Yes, I am. But here I am by your side."
"Why?"
"Why ask why?"
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Maybe it would work today. Her hands moved to block her ears. She wanted to wake up from this dream, nay nightmare.
She wanted to feign ignorance. She wanted silence. Blessed silence.
He was not kind enough to provide her with her wish.
"Do you want to know why, Christine?"
"If you tell me will you leave me alone?"
He paused for a moment.
"No, absolutely not. But think of it this way… you'll never be alone."
Nothing sounded so foreboding.
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Finito.
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