Ten years later….
Erik?
ERIK?
ERIK!
I could hear her cries. Feel her pain. It was like I was right there with her. But I couldn't help her. I saw how it happened. From the moment she slid in the side entrance. She was running…crying. She didn't even stop for a lantern. So careless she was.
The path was lined with traps, even I had to take my time when I used it, and I built and placed them. Christine hadn't made it far when she tripped on a large stone. I heard the crack as she landed, then skidded forward and another loud crack as her head slammed into the wall.
There was so much blood. A steady, heavy flow. I prayed the head injury had already killed her. I couldn't bear to watch her suffer. Those eyes flew open…
"Erik?"-she whimpered.
Then I woke. Crying…panting…my heart breaking all over again. Then I screamed out at the injustice of it all.
She had come back for me. I knew it now. What had happened to me? My memory was just black after she left with the boy.
I have this dream every day.
I still haven't found her. I've returned to Paris several times, revisiting the same café where I first saw her. Sitting there for hours, the staff probably thought I was mad. Perhaps I am.
I'm a jack of all trades now. Composing and producing musical theater, designing homes, and painting. Although the painting is for my pleasure. I had moved to New York, taking mother with me. She has her own penthouse. I was nearby. I made sure we spent time together every day, for I knew how it felt to be left alone.
It was still dark when I stepped into lush bathroom. My eyes were still watery. I sat on the edge of the tub, trying to clear my head.
I worked the rest of the night on composing. Making sure it was perfect, and just the way it had been on that fateful night.
As I played the music, I could see her with a dark red rose tucked behind her ear. Her beautiful curls left free and unbound. My fingers itched to stroke them. I played on, reliving my former life in my mind. The whole play up until we were on that bridge…I could feel her fingers removing my mask. The cool air upon my ruined face…
It no longer enraged me. When it happened those many years ago, I was furious. And hurt. I felt so betrayed. I saw the armed guards…saw all the signals… I knew it was a trap. Those fools thought they could trap me. But…yes…they used the right bait as it were.
With a sigh I stood up for a stretch. The sun was shining now. I would clean up and be off to meet with a theater owner. I was going to write, direct, and produce my own show.
Don Juan Triumphs once more!