Christine dans Deux

An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story

Nyasia A. Maire

© 2006

DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Sixty-Five – . . . For No One

"I am dreaming."

I run through dark as I frantically seek egress.

"I hope I am dreaming."

With my hands thrust before me, I seek the comforting touch of anything. Anything, but this never ending darkness.

"Please, let me be dreaming."

At long last, my hands feel something other than thin air. Running my hands along the surface, I come away with the impression that it may be a rug, but it hangs from an unseen wall.

"A tapestry, perhaps?"

I tug on it and it slides to the ground. Quickly, I raise my eyes and gaze upon the sight revealed by the removal of the tapestry. I see two girls, one with auburn hair, one with chestnut mane. The girls hold hands and run across a hillside full of wild flowers. They frolic and laugh, pausing occasionally to admire a flower here, a butterfly there. As they reach the crest of the hill the girls turn and wave, they beckon me to join them. I step forward and a sudden gasp escapes my lips, as I bang my head into the cold hard surface before me. Rubbing my forehead, I realize that I stand before a mirror. I return my attention to the girls just as they disappear from sight. I call out to them, but no sound escapes my mouth. I press against the cold glass, but the mirror grants me no passage to join the girls. I turn from the mirror, but … an invisible and irresistible force takes hold of me and turns me towards the mirror once more.

"No! That is NOT me! You lie!"

I pound my fists into the reflection of my face. A face, which cannot … no, must not be mine!

"I am NOT that man! Am I? Who am I?"

I look down at my body and am relieved to find that both the form of my body and the clothes I wear do not match those of the man in the mirror. Relieved, I look into the mirror once more. This time I find a woman staring back at me. Her dark chocolate brown eyes seem infinitely sad. She wears a hooded cape of softest pink. I catch a glimpse of chestnut curls within the folds of her hood.

"I am …. No, not she. No, I know I am not this woman. Mirror, I command thee do not lie to me! Please show me the truth. Who am I?"

Once more, I gaze into the mirror and find a mass of familiar people returning my look.

"No! Who am I? Hey! Will somebody wake me the hell up?"

My body engulfed in a wave of weariness to strong for me to resist, I drop to my knees and bury my face in my hands.

"No one can awaken me. I have to exist in order to awake. I am no one. I would have to be real. I would have to be a person. I would have to have feelings of my own, but I do not. I am a chameleon and the chameleon feels nothing. The chameleon feels … for no one."

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My eyes fly open, but the rest of my body feels unnaturally still. I automatically repress my emotional response to the dream. Perhaps, it is my confusion over how I am supposed to feel that allows me to realize something about myself.

"I am a chameleon." The words spoken within the confines of my dream echo inside my head.

"A chameleon?" I think.

I discover I cannot deny this conclusion after I carefully consider the facts of my life. My life is one spent taking on the hues of those around me, instead of allowing myself to feel. My entire life spent focused on and dealing with my empathic abilities. Instead of granting myself permission to show my feelings, I suppress them. I do not believe I have purposefully done this, but a part of me knew. Yes, some part of me had to be aware for on our wedding night I had opened the door of my innermost sanctuary and allowed Erik to enter. I shared with him all of my secrets. For one night I held nothing back … and then … and then … what did I do? Closing my eyes, I allow that beautiful night to replay within the confines of my mind. I see myself proudly and willingly throwing open my innermost door to share myself completely with Erik. I continue to watch and find that with the dawn, I close the door. My mind tells me that I closed the door to protect my husband. After some very serious reflection, I determine that I just may be telling the truth. Chances are that I am not lying to myself, but it does not help me feel any better. Whether or not I had a good reason, I had closed the door against my husband, my Erik … at least this time I did not lock it.

"Why do I do this? I truly do not know. If I am as smart as they say I am, why couldn't I make Raoul hear my words? Wait just one minute … what did I just say? I just said, "Raoul." Why in the hell would I say that? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Wait! I said, "Why couldn't I make Raoul hear my words?" I know only one person who might say something of that nature. I think we need to get her here as soon as possible. She is the only one that I can talk to about this. Shit! I said it myself just last night! How's that for my subconscious trying to tell me something? Psychic backwash! I need to go home. I have no idea how to fix this. Will this get worse? I have to tell Erik as it's affecting him as well. Guess some of the blackness found a home in my mind. I wonder … does that mean that Christine is discovering little bits of me in her personality? Oh, I can live with this if I could get Christine to go and kick Raoul's ass. I would pay good money for a front row seat in that show! Oh, yes! Mom, I'm making lemonade again! Yep, life just hit me with a big bag of lemons. So I'm gonna roll up my sleeves and get to makin' some lemonade! Oh, Christine, don't forget that once you've taken care of the backwash, you have to take care of the chameleon."

I lie in bed and continue to think about my life as I await the dawn and wait for Erik to awaken. I come to understand that the love I shared with my second husband came not from me, but from him. I used his feelings, used his love for me as my own.

I wonder, "How much of my life has been influenced or even decided using the feelings of those around me? How can I be certain that anything I feel is mine? Do I even know how to feel?"

Thoughts ebb and flow through my mind like the sea swirling about after a storm. All too soon, I find myself overrun with one seemingly random thought after another…. Suddenly, everything becomes still and calm.

"Epiphany! I do feel my own emotions. I am afraid. I am afraid of losing Erik, afraid of losing my child and completely stressed out! Never thought that being stressed out and afraid would make me happy, but it has. Yes, that's another one. I feel hope."