Author's Note:
Dear Readers,
Um….I didn't realize it's been nearly two months since I updated. I AM SO SORRY! Some stuff I couldn't control has been really bothering me lately and disturbed my writing for a while. I am back in full swing though, so, expect more! I hope I don't let you down.
So, something has changed in my book writing now! I have a Beta reader! At least, I think that's what they call people who help out with your writing. She's really awesome, her name is Mary the Canary and I'm very thankful for her help with this chapter. Maybe we can avoid those awkward typos now!
On a side note: I wrote this chapter to destroy your hearts and set up for something in the future (I honestly don't know what but I'll find out). And, trust me, there won't be a lot of flashbacks. I don't like flashbacks usually. But, this one felt important enough that I didn't want to tell it. I wanted to show it. Don't skip! (I'm looking at you, friend of mine who may or may not be reading it on here!)
Anyway, enjoy! Please favorite, follow, and review!
sarahandmarquis
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Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. I do not! I do own Dalir Gul and this story plot because I'm the genius who thought it up! *mic drop*.
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Reviews:
Lunacat: Yes, my updates haven't been the most punucual. I do apologize for this. My life has been topsy-turvy and I haven't been able to sit down and write. But, I think I'm back into the swing of things and this is the result! I hope its worth the wait!
E.M.K.81: This was my goal when I made this Christine. She is supposed to be innocent and sweet. She has very little familiarity with drugs and their affects. I don't know how Erik is going to explain himself out of this corner but we'll find out! And, yes, there will be an unmasking scene. Don't worry. I have plans. *winks*
Whatanidea15: It's well worth seeing! I love it. But, yes, Erik does deserve some fussing at for this little lie. We'll see what trouble it gets him in.
Child of Dreams: You guessed correctly! *claps happily for you* Back in a review on Chapter 5 you requested this and brought it back to memory for me. THANK YOU!
ArtemisBare: It's a good movie! Since I've never read the book, I don't actually know how accurate it is but, as a movie, it's very good. I love the characters and the actors are great. Well worth checking out! I'm sorry I broke my "regular updates" routine! But, hopefully, I'll be back with chapters coming more often. Thanks for reviewing so long ago!
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Word Count: 1610
"Was" Count: 1
"Were" Count: 0
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Chapter 13
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When dawn crept into the darkness of the living room, Erik jerked awake and pushed aside the blanket he found wrapped around him. The room lay empty, the girl who had previously filled it with light had long disappeared into the night to return to her own home.
How could I have forgotten! She must work this morning and I kept her up late.
Berating himself, he rose and straightened his suit and mask, pleased to find this time the piece of porcelain remained on while he slept. Now that his mind had cleared, he wondered if she had loosened the strings in the beginning part of the night, but brushed aside that idea, refusing to believe she would betray him like that. No, the ties had just tugged loose at some point.
He stretched, popping his joints after having slept at an odd angle for so long. Wincing at the pleasant pain, he saw a scrap of paper sitting on the coffee table, a few words and a phone number scribbled across it.
Picking it up, he read the note.
Erik, this is Dalir's phone number. Please, consider calling or texting him. I know it isn't easy for you after all that you two went through but he misses you.
Christine
Beneath her name, ten digits sprawled across the page, burning a hole into his eyes. His phone, an occupant of his left pant pocket, felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Sinking back onto the couch, he fished the device from his pocket and stared at it.
Nadir, how could you want me back? I ruined your life. I destroyed your mother's life. How could you miss me?
He flicked the phone on and opened "New Message," hesitating before slowly typing in Dalir's phone number. His hands shook, the text message box empty, the curser blinking tauntingly at him.
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"You promised we'd go fishing today, Papa!" Ami pouted, following his adopted father and friend out the door of their small home.
"I'm sorry, Ami, but Nadir and I have to go into town. Why don't we go fishing tomorrow? And, your mother is baking cookies and bread. Go help her and we'll be back in time for supper." The middle-aged Persian man lightly patted the masked boy on the head and gave him an encouraging smile. "You're a good son, Ami."
"Thank you, Papa." Thin arms wound around his father's waist, tightening to give him an affectionate squeeze. "I'll be patient."
"Thank you, son." His 'papa' pressed a soft kiss to his hair and led Nadir away to the small car waiting in the driveway.
As his family drove away, he waved from the doorway. Once the car had disappeared from the driveway, Ami ran back into the house, straight to the kitchen where his 'mama' busied herself with mixing a batch of cookies.
"Have they left, Ami?" The pretty woman asked, turning to face him, her lips lifted in a happy grin. In the eyes of the boy, her smile could create world peace.
"Yes, Mama." He grinned from beneath the mask, though she couldn't see the twisted expression. He hopped up on the counter, kicking his feet as they hung above the floor. "What cookies are you making?"
"Lemon. Your favorite, right?" She smiled, brushing some powdered sugar off her hands. "Could you go get me some more sugar from the pantry? I used the last of it just now."
"Yes, Mama!" Bounding from the counter, he bounced across the checkered kitchen floor to the pantry doors. Pushing them open, he dropped to his knees and pulled out a heavy bag of sugar. He closed the doors behind him and proudly presented the French woman with the item.
"Thank you, Ami. There is bread dough in the fridge." She laughed quietly as the boy nearly evaporated over to the black stainless-steel refrigerator. His small, bony hands tugged open the door and removed the large metal bowl of bread dough, his eyes widening at the amount.
"Now, only have a few bites. I don't want you sick and Madame Martin needs the bread," she lovely chuckled as the boy obediently took a pinch of the dough and returned the bowl to its place inside the full refrigerator.
"Thank you, Mama. Is Madame Martin and her baby doing well?" He returned to his place on the counter beside her and gently reached out, lightly playing with her black curls. Since he had arrived at their home several weeks ago, he had found an absolute fascination with his adopted mother's black curls. She had proven kind and allowed the boy the attachment, aware of the tenuous hold he had on sanity.
"Yes. I expect she'll be on her feet in no time." She lovingly smiled at him and lightly brushed his hair out of his face, leaving a streak of flour across his sack mask. Ami relished the touch and lightly hugged her before disappearing into the living room to play the piano for her as he did whenever she decided to cook.
She had said many times that the music brought her great pleasure.
He wanted so desperately to please this kind woman who loved him.
After he had played for nearly an hour, mostly his own compositions but also several popular songs she adored, he paused, hearing her approach.
"Yes, Mama? Are the cookies done?" His golden eyes landed on her as he turned on the piano bench. He expected to see a smile, but a solemn look covered her face, her mind busy thinking behind the white flesh concealing it.
"No, but they will be soon. Before they come out of the oven, I wanted to talk to you. Come here." She held out her hand and he took it without thinking, knots of worry tying up his stomach.
"What have I done?"
"You've done nothing, Ami," she assured him, sitting the boy down beside her on the couch. "I wanted to talk to you about this." Her fingers touched the cloth covering his face. He instantly shied away from her.
"No, Mama, please no. I don't want to talk about it." Pressure built behind his eyes and he felt a panic coming upon him. The pictures of the monster that appeared whenever the mask left filled his little mind and frightened him.
"We need to." She wrapped one arm around his shoulders, tucking him close to her warm body. He curled against her, burying his head against her bosom.
"No, I don't want to."
"Why do you wear it?" She inquired kindly, running her hand through the bits of hair she could reach. He shook in her loose grasp, his arms tightening around her waist.
"M-mother…" He started, remembering the horror of his blood mother. "M-mother m-made me wear i-it. She said…she said if I d-didn't, a horrible m-monster would appear! One d-day, one day – I took it off. I w-wanted a k-kiss. She s-showed me the monster! He's frightening!"
His adopted mother pressed a kiss to his head, bringing tears to his eyes.
"There is no monster here." She whispered, her sweet voice filling his mind and becoming all he could hear. "There is only my son, who I love very much. Your mother was a fool. There is no monster. Whatever you look like won't change anything. I'll still love you." Seeing her words had only a little effect on the boy, she changed her tactic. "If you take off your mask, I'll give you those kisses you wanted."
Her bribery worked and the boy quickly began to pull off the scrap of cloth, the lure of kisses too much for his affection starved brain to deny.
As soon as the cloth fell away and his hopeful eyes turned up towards his mama, her eyes widened in horror. Expecting affection, he received squeaks and shrieks of fear and disgust. His mother's face turned salt white, mouth hanging open. Her hand pushed him away despite his reaching for her.
"Mama!" He cried, only for her to leap from the couch and nearly fall over the coffee table to escape him.
"G-get away!" She shouted, waving her hand at him. "Get away, monster!"
"Mama!" He screamed, tears coating his sunken cheeks. "Mama!"
"You're a monster! You're a monster! Get away from me!" Sobbing in terror, she disappeared from the room. Seconds later, he heard the door to the bedroom slam and the lock turn, her last defense from her son.
"Mama." He whispered, sobbing into his hands. "Mama."
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"Mama…Mama…you're a monster…Mama…" Erik rocked back and forth on the couch, his eyes locked in the scene playing in his mind. Pain bloomed in his chest as his heart violently spasmed. Tears coated his cheeks and even ran down the cheeks of the mask, streaking the porcelain with salty liquid.
"Forgive me, Mama, for being a monster you couldn't love." The phone tumbled from his hands and he buried his head in his arms and wept.
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It was the middle of the night and Dalir couldn't sleep. Restlessness kept his eyes from closing as he tossed and turned in the narrow Queen-sized hotel bed. Lights from the passing cars flashed in his eyes even through the curtains and gave him a pounding headache.
Around three o'clock, he rose and found the TV remote. After flicking through the channels, he ended up throwing the piece of plastic against the wall in a final act of frustration with the world.
At that moment, his phone dinged. Frowning, he clicked on the screen and read a message from a strange number.
This is Ami.