September 17th 1892: Erik
I woke up when the rays of sunlight coming through the window tickled my face. Slowly I opened my eyes and lifted my head, groaning as a jolt of pain shot through my back. Straightening up very cautiously I discovered the reason: I had fallen asleep sitting at the table, with my arms as pillow. It was only natural that the crouched position my body had been in all night hadn't been good for my back. Now I was paying the price for refusing to go to bed.
It had been foolish to believe that spending the night on a chair would keep me from falling asleep and having nightmares. Sleep was something everybody needed, and the nightmares… well, after such a day it would have been strange not to have any. Yet even given my usual nightmares, which surely were worse than the average person's, those had been particularly terrible. I could still feel an echo of the horror they had evoked in me, especially the last one.
"I deserve better than that," I told Christine. Quickly I ran away and locked the door to the guestroom behind me.
"No, Erik!" she called, coming after me. I could see her, see her through the closed door. Her face was red, and there were rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks. "Let me in!" she cried, slamming her fists against the door with all her strength. Yet it didn't give way.
She tried it again and again, till she was out of breath. Then she sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Erik…" she whispered faintly between sobs. "Why did you reject me? Do you hate me? I love you so much… I – "
Suddenly her face grew even redder, and her hands flew to her throat.
"Can't breathe… help…" she muttered, her eyes bulging.
I wanted to unlock the door, only to find that the key had vanished. I tried to force it open, but that didn't work either. I was too weak. All I could do was watch Christine and listen to her voice growing fainter.
"Erik… help me… please… I love you… Erik!"
Even the memory of the nightmare made me shudder. It had been so real… except for the fact that usually I couldn't look through doors, of course. Yes, that was something I could concentrate on. As long as I didn't forget that it had just been a dream, it didn't have the power to scare me… at least in theory. In practice I tried to avoid thinking about it at all. It was good that a moment later something pushed the dream out of my head.
I was just enjoying the sunshine on my face a little more when I realised what this meant: The sun had already left the shadows of the trees in the garden, so it was later than I had assumed. I had sat in the garden often enough to know that. It had to be at least half past seven. Any moment someone could knock at the door to call me to breakfast and wonder why I had locked myself in. Besides, I had to deliver the letter to Christine before she left the room.
The sleepy stupor I had been in before vanished quickly as I came to my feet, nearly knocking over the chair. I wasn't even wearing my mask yet, and my clothes were wrinkled. I couldn't go anywhere looking like this, not even if it was just the corridor. Fortunately there was a bowl with water standing on the chest of drawers. Since it had been standing there for about a day, its contents weren't exactly fresh. But then, I didn't want to drink them.
Ten minutes later I was kneeling in front of my suitcase, wearing nothing but my underwear, and looked for the rest of my clothing. Scrubbing myself vigorously with a washcloth had got rid of the last bits os sleepiness, and I was ready to face the day… as soon as I had found clothes, that was. I quickly took out a black suit and a white shirt, resolving to unpack my suitcase at the first occasion I'd have. Then I hastened to get dressed.
When every piece of clothing was at its place and every button was closed, I continued the process of getting ready with the next step: my mask. I put it on and adjusted it in front of the mirror carefully. It was only then that I felt completely dressed. I fetched the letter from the table, glad that I hadn't slept on it, and walked to the door. Of course the key was there. It turned in the lock smoothly, and I opened the door.
The corridor was empty. I heard a door being closed, but no one was there. I tiptoed outside and went over to the bedroom. I couldn't tell whether Christine was still in it, but I figured she'd find the letter sooner or later. I placed it right in front of the door, so that she couldn't miss it, and –
"What are you doing there, Uncle Erik?" a voice behind me asked.
I spun around, only to see Philippe standing in front of my.
"Nothing," I replied. Then I looked over at my door, where someone else had just given exactly the same answer.
Christine"I deserve better than that," Erik called.
"But why? What does this all mean?" I asked him, utterly confused.
"It is very simple," he replied shortly, as if talking to me at all were bothering him. "It means that I don't want you. I deserve better than you." He sneered at me and took a step backwards, so that he could watch me better in all my misery.
I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it.
"But Erik…" I muttered. "I love you."
"I love you…" he mocked me, his voice high-pitched and cruel. "You should have thought of that sooner. Did you really believe I'd wait for you forever? Of course not! There are so many others eager to get their chance with me…"
And it was true: Suddenly there were women everywhere. They came from all directions, up and down the corridor we were standing in as well as out of the various rooms. There were at least a dozen of them, surrounding Erik and shielding him from view. Larisse, Jacqueline, the Baroness and the diva from the opera were those I recognised immediately.
"We all love Erik," they chorused. "And he loves us. He doesn't need a stupid little girl who cannot make up her mind!"
"But… I've made up my mind now," I whispered, sinking to my knees.
"Too late!" they cried triumphantly. "Too late, too late, too late…"
I woke up with a start, gasping for breath. What a dreadful nightmare this had been! I was in a terrible state. My heart was racing, and my face was sweaty. My hands were sweaty as well, clutching the blanket tightly. Only slowly I let go of it and stretched out my fingers one by one. They were aching, and I wondered how long I had been holding on to the blanket in my sleep.
I should have known it wouldn't be good for me to sleep alone. If I had been able to hold on to a warm body instead of a blanket, I wouldn't have had such dreams. That one had been the last in a series of horror that had haunted me all night. I had never been particularly interested in the interpretation of dreams, but the meaning of those was clear to me: If I didn't make my decision soon, it might be too late.
But then, I had already made a decision, hadn't I? I had decided to stay away from Erik at night… till I'd make a decision. Well, maybe one could call it a pre-decision. It was better than nothing. Everything was still possible. Despite the message in my dreams, it was not too late yet.
Too late? I looked up, startled. What time was it? Oh no, it was already light outside! I had to hurry if I wanted Erik to have the letter as soon as possible. He always got up early – if he slept at all, that was. What if he had already left his room? I jumped out of the bed in alarm, racing to the table where I had put the letter.
It was only when I had reached the door that I realised I couldn't leave the room wearing only a nightdress. Erik could see me and think my behaviour indecent. Besides, my hair was dishevelled and my face sweaty. I didn't want him to see me like that. So I went over to the washbasin and washed myself quickly, but thoroughly. Then I got dressed properly, in a light pink skirt and a white blouse. I didn't know what we'd do today, but this combination would be suitable for many occasions.
Now I went out into the corridor, after making sure no one was there. Yet just as I was sneaking to Erik's door, it opened slowly. Hastily I ran into the bathroom, which was on the other side of the corridor. If only he didn't want to go in here! Fortune was smiling on me. Through a small gap in the door I saw him walk away. I couldn't make out where he was going, but as long as he didn't come back before I was finished, it didn't matter.
I hurried to his room, focusing entirely on this one door. I'd just put the letter in front of it, then he'd see it as soon as he'd return. It was very simple, really. I leaned down and –
"What are you doing, Maman?" A voice made me spin around.
"Nothing," I said quickly as I looked into my daughter's curious face. A second later I glanced over at a certain somebody who was standing at my door and had just said the same. Erik's surprised gaze met mine, and we burst into laughter.