Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. Never have.
The Hell door felt like fire, but Heaven was like ice! It appears to me that I am not worthy of the true Heaven. Fire or
ice. They both might hold untold horrors, unimaginable. When I was alive, I was called a monster, a demon. I was told
that I was damned to hell, and I had always believed them. But now, as I look at them, Heaven holds less appeal. I will
chose her. I put my hand in Christine's and I open the door. I was met with a light that could have been all colors or
none. It wasn't as cold as I expected. It was really rather warm. Then, I realized that Christine was no longer holding
my hand. She was directly in front of me, now in replace of her wedding dress, in a lavender gown. This gown depicted
all of our moments together. It both awed me and saddened me. When I finally tore my eyes away from the beautiful
site, I noticed a figure robed in pure white. It can not be. God is not real, at least not to poor pitiful Erik. Christine Daae
took my hand again and lead me toward the impossible man. He griped my hand tightly but not unkindly. I then ripped
the appendage from his grasp. 'No one can touch Erik', I thought savagely, 'no one but Christine.'
If there is any confusion to this chapter from the previous one, please let me know in a review.