Chapter 3
Allegro
When I came back home, I had to restart my emotions over again. I wondered if last night had been a dream, she was never there, and she wouldn't be up and dressing when I got home? But of course, that was ill-thought of me. She was there, of course, and eating her breakfast Anne had made her.
"Good morning, Christine," I greeted lightly, coming through the dining room door. It made her jump, I could see, because her arm twitched as she took a sip of her milk.
"Morning," She replied, after choking down her milk. She looked angry. I smiled.
"I'm sorry for startling you again," I replied, taking off my hat, and resting it on the opposite end of the table.
"It's fine," She huffed, "But can you not do that again? It's like you walk through walls or something." She was so light about it, I found it amusing despite what she thought I was thinking. She probably couldn't tell. See? One more reason to have a mask. As to not embarrass myself ninety percent of the time. "I don't mean to be offensive..."
"It's not," I replied shortly, and let my amusement drop. "What would you like to do today?"
"Could I hear you play?" She asked curiously. I was startled, and perhaps I made my answer the wrong impression, for she was anxious to do so.
"For our lesson, perhaps, I might play something for you." Truth was, I had to put away my magnum opus before she even begins to question my work to avoid her further curiosities. She nodded as if to obey me, and I left it at that. She then shrugged and shook her head.
"Very well. You'll have a lesson in the next hour." I said shortly and got up from the table, pleased with myself to host a conversation, if but a short one. I was then that I was very sure of myself that I could have her fall in love with me such as I am. Falling deeper and deeper into the evil, cruel thing they call love every time she speaks to me. She has nothing else to think of me except for a man. A rich, powerful man at that, and it was attractive because she has never been involved with something like this in her life. I didn't mind if it could be something like shallow love. It is the thought that one day she would kiss me in a beautiful wedding gown, and takes the place of the faceless woman in my dreams that keeps me alive. Beautiful Christine. My beautiful Christine.
The lesson went over very well, I thought. She sang, but... it's like forcing a lifeless doll to move, you have to brace it in order for it to work its full performance. She had no emotion when she sang. The scales were hurting my everything... She listened to me like it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. She forced herself away from music for so long that she began to no longer see it like she had before. She no longer had that startling insight, the passion, the heart... It was taken away, like she said, down with her father's grave. One of the few things I can't do is bring humans back to life, no matter how much of a twisted illusion it might be, but what I can try for the first time is to breathe life back into a dead soul just as she had to me when I saw her. It was a task I had to take, even if it could be annoying and painful on her own part. But... I loved her. Maybe if she knew that much... perhaps she would no longer have that dead voice. It could be for the worse, I knew. It was a risk I was willing to take. I can suffer until she's comfortable. It is all for her.
I sent her back to her room, reminding her that we will have lessons every day. She looked at me as if I was speaking another language by the end of her first lesson, and was... well, surprised.
"You mean every day!?" She asked exasperatedly.
"Well, yes. If you want to work on your voice, it must be consistent." She widened her eyes and began to shrink beneath my eyes away from the piano bench.
"I'm going to my room... to... read..." That was my goodbye until lunch time, I supposed. She walked quickly and tensely out of the room, leaving me to the vast nothingness of the room. It was strange because I used to think of this music room as a shrine for myself... It used to fill my days of endless glory and greatness as my greatest work began to piece itself together. Now, her presence has graced the room... when she's gone, it become just a room, homed by nothing except for the magnum opus which stores itself in a locked drawer, away from any human eyes.
Annoyed with myself for letting her go away alone, I picked myself up and began toward her room, thinking that she might want to start a conversation. She always was social despite whatever happened to her, very much unlike myself. She needed people around her constantly even when they were the worst company to be with like little twits or stuck-up teenage girls whom she loathed. I hated whoever made her curl up in a ball in the middle of the room and cry.
I heard her voice just up the stairs, and it sounded as if she was talking to herself. It was then that I immediately forgot that she had the cell phone I had once given her. It's probably incredibly worn, but evidently still works and is being effectively used. She wasn't talking to herself... once more, the girl isn't a female version of myself. Christine is yet to strike that low in her depression. No... what was going on was much worse.
"Raoul! Oh, my God! Raoul! How did you get this number?" Was her ecstatic cry.
Dammit. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Dammit.
It was the boy she was once enthused with in her early teenage years. I never actually have seen him except that time after her Christmas concert three years ago. He moved away after her father died and before then I didn't watch her as closely. Evidently she still kept in close contact with him judging by the way she spoke.. I've seen her talk with him plenty of times, but I only thought of it as a friendship. I knew that at one point she considered him as a boyfriend, but it was something that every teenage girl goes through. He wouldn't stay around very long, I considered, because it was hormones... right? No. This is much more. Much worse than the original intent I had given myself. I'm sure he's very handsome, and he's her age... and he probably had nothing to do with music, or what I could give to her. He moved away, and I was always here.
"Where are you?" She asked, and I heard her lighten up excitedly. Okay, so he's back. Damn the world.
"I think I'm near there..." She sighed, unsure in reply, "Listen Raoul, my new guardian is pretty strange. I may just have to ask him, and I'll call you back when I get an answer, okay?" At least she planned on asking, but inside it hurt me more than it should. And "pretty strange" as a description didn't even begin to describe what more I could come off as being, so that was also a plus. Of course, she had no right of knowing anymore. It sounded as though she could have been talking to her friend Meg, except it was a young man which was different. Why couldn't he have left her alone?
I heard her footsteps pad toward the door, so I fixed myself so I wouldn't portray the wrong image. Everything was going so fine up until that wretched boy called her... I should have destroyed the cell phone when I knew she was coming here.
"You did it again!" She screamed, backing back into the room after practically running into my chest.
"Are you going to ask me something?" I asked briskly. I looked carefully to her to see that she understood that I listened to every word.
"I haven't seen him in forever and he just moved here... Could I see him tonight?" She asked quickly as she played with her hands. This was the most alive I've seen her yet. Her eyes were hopeful, very light. It was hard to break it, but when I knew the reason, I had to intervene.
"No." I said simply. I knew I had enough control over her in order to restrain her even if she began to rebel. She had to stay here because she had to be with me.
She looked very shocked, and began to glare. I could smile that she was so full of fire. She then leaned back and crossed her arms. "...And why not?"
This might not be as hard as it could have been. "How could I know to trust this boy?"
She began to get mad... I could see it. It was so adorable, though, despite the fact she was becoming angry with me. "Excuse me" She hissed softly.
"Christine, I implore you to calm down. You may see him some other time." That was the first lie. Or was it the second? Maybe I shouldn't keep track, it's bringing me down.
This hit home, I could see. Her cheeks flamed red and she looked as if she might begin to cry. This was going too far. "You're not my father, you can't tell me what to do!" Her fists clenched by her sides tightly as if she would begin to fall if not. I had to soothe her. She couldn't cry... I told myself I wouldn't make it if she began to cry. But I just couldn't let her go right now... not when I just received her presence.
"Yes, Christine, it is true I'm not, but dear, I am your legal guardian right now and I can tell you to do what I wish for you to do. I just told you you may see him soon!" Maybe that was the wrong thing to say! How should I know?! It's not like anyone has ever comforted me before! I should have learned how to talk to her before actually speaking to her. All I do is say the wrong things because there are no right things on my mind! I began to panic and my hands balled into fists to refrain from nervously playing with them.
"Look, Erik... Raoul is one of my only friends... The least you can do to make me comfortable anywhere is to let me see him... Let me see him and I'll do whatever you damn well want me to do." She begged, but that was the first time I've ever heard her curse. She really wanted this... I just... I, well, couldn't.
"I'm afraid I can't let you." I said dryly.
"What?" Her voice cracked so it was barely a whisper.
"Don't be a child, Christine. You need to grow up, and you need to learn now." I said shortly, swallowing my newly made emotions whole.
"I hate you," she barked, which was like a punch in my stomach. It almost knocked me backward until she shut the door on my face. She didn't mean it, I told myself. She was just being ridiculous. I stayed near the doorway, clutching my sides, as I heard her begin to cry against the door. If I could name the worst sound in the world, it would be this, the sound of her crying... And this time it was because of me. I couldn't see her for a while for I didn't think I could get over myself if I witnessed her sobbing in front of me. I locked the door... it was one of those things that could lock on either side so we both had our own way. I didn't think she liked this when she found out. She began to slam on the door with her fists. On the ground, kicked aside was her cell phone outside the door. I sighed, and picked it up knowing now that this wouldn't cause any more problems.
"You can come out when you get over this, Christine!" I called out as I began to walk down the hall, still clutching my sides as if it would stop the harsh pain. If she was going to act like a child, she might as well be treated like one. I learned this "parenting" tactic from a man who was like a father to me... but none of that now.
She called after her cell phone as well, after complaining about being locked in her room. It's not like I was going to give it freehandedly back to her. No, she wasn't going to get it back. I kept it in an office on the upstairs, thinking if she would be that clever as to find it sometime, she may. But currently, I wasn't worried.
I stayed in my music room and began to compose. No, it wasn't my opera, it was actually something for Christine. She had wanted to hear me play for the lesson, and I told her I would, but I was too distracted to remember it. Maybe playing something special for her might let her forget what has happened between us. I probably was in the music room for the better part of five hours, trapped in something like a haze. It was short compared to my other times when I compose which could go on for days, and even, at one point in my life, weeks. With Christine around, I had to entertain her during those times where I isolate myself. She must be starving!
I hurried to her room and knocked on the door.
"May I come in?" I questioned to whats seemed like the door only, for there was no movement, no sound coming from the room. I waited a few moments, and when all I received was silence I began again, "Christine, answer me." I demanded. Again, silence. Panic overcame me all too quickly. It wasn't like she could have escaped... but she might have done something worse...
"Christine, are you even in there?" I asked at length.
"Go away," She rasped. I sighed in relief.
"Let me make it up to you, I really did not mean to be so cold to you earlier. May I please come in?" I figured asking nicely might win her over at any time.
"Did you not hear me? I said go away. You are not my father, and you're not my parent. I've only known you for a little over forty-eight hours and I already hate you. If you value my sanity so much, I would like it very much if you go away." She made a nice little speech, and she sounded rather tired. I should have had food brought to her. I could tell she needed someone, though. And I couldn't provide her with anyone else except for myself, so I made my way in to give my apologies once more, and prove to her once more that she can be happy here.
"Could you forgive me once more, Christine? Just once more, and I promise I will leave you alone."
"Why do you bother asking to come in if you're just going to barge in here anyway?" She huffed, besides the subject. It's like she doesn't actually listen.
I had to resist rolling my eyes at her, so I bit my lip. She was being deplorable... And I couldn't believe I could bend her so that she was that way just because I didn't let her see her "boyfriend." She was being ignorant, but I knew it wasn't like her to stay that way. There had to be something...
"Why do you wear a mask?" She asked out of the blue. Really, she always has done that to me. She asks the wrong questions at the wrong times. I mean, it's not like I'm going to answer them. I ignore them as best as I can and then move matters along to more important things other than the... faults... that I have been cursed to bare.
"That is a question reserved for another time." I replied shortly, though she still looked at me... well, the mask, in a peculiar way. I had to be more careful now than earlier. Last time a beautiful young girl forced the mask away... Well, you know what? I don't think I should tell you. These endings are never very pleasant and would never be acceptable for a table conversation. Anyway, I resumed with normal human tendencies like food. "Are you hungry?" She looked at me with narrowed eyes, once more like it was the last thing she wanted to do. "You could either eat downstairs with me, or remain up here on your lonesome. It's your choice." I offered.
She surveyed her choices for a moment, and then looked away from my mask. "I'll be downstairs in a second."
I nodded and left her room, once more in a let-down mood. How often was she going to be like this? I was left alone once more to think on myself which is something I should sway away from. Usually the most depressing situations come up, and I don't think I should think of them, especially when I have high hopes for Christine.
The next few days were filled with contemplating whether or not I should actually let her go see the boy. She was back to the way she was before she came to my home. She sang worse than the first lesson, and it only went down from there. It annoyed me that I wasn't able to be the best for her, that I wasn't everything she wanted, but I suppose that there is no such human being besides maybe her father that could provide that happiness to her. She's a very dependable person most of the time, and I suppose she put all her trust onto her father, and never let it die. It's really ill-thought of me to win it over with a boy on the other end. Who do I think I am, anyway?
She was awfully silent and pale. She marveled at the books, though. As long as she had her books, she was content. I had to keep that in mind. It still wasn't enough. I wasn't about to hand her over to the mentality that I had seen her in before, though. No matter how much she denies it. No matter how much she has ever denied it, now that I think about it. She doesn't like to downplay herself.
Well, it wasn't until one day that she actually began to act up again. She was very light and actually smiled when I asked her opinion of something one day while engaging in a rare conversation with her. She then went forth and asked me questions. Have I ever told you how much I hate questions?
"Do you have a last name, Erik?" I loved when she said my name though. I don't think anyone has ever said my name so light-heartedly as she has said it. Usually it's articulated unpleasantly. I contemplated on answering. If it would make her content, I could keep it vague.
"I have many." It was true. I filed myself under many last names when something like a surname was absolutely required to get through.
"What do you mean by that?" She cocked her head to the side and looked at me with those wide, curious eyes that I find very dazzling... "you can have only one last name that your father has."
"I never had a father."
"Everyone has a father."
"I never knew him." My father left right after I was born. He couldn't stand my mother. I couldn't blame him, because quite frankly, I could never put up with her myself. I'm glad they departed their ways like they did. I'm also very glad on how my mother departed the earth like she did. I won't tell you why or how though. Maybe later.
"But you had a mother, right?" She pressed on. That little inquisitive girl!
"I never had a mother," I sighed. But the way she looked at me was terrible. It was like she was about to say sorry, but forbid herself not to. I looked away and thought of anything lighter I could give to her but found nothing. My mother was cruel to me. She had her reasons, but sometimes I don't believe they were enough.
"Is there something wrong?" She asked. She looked rather guilty.
"Bad memories," I explained quietly.
"I'm sorry," She replied immediately.
"I'm fine, Christine. You were curious, and I can hardly blame you for that."
She then went forth on an indecent subject as if ignorance was just waiting to come in line. You should think that the way she treated me would turn me away from wanting to take care of her, but it's only drawn me closer to her. Someone would never have done the same to me. Well, some would. Actually, I could count those peoples on one hand, and not even use all the fingers...
She asked about her cell phone, of course. She really wanted it back, and accused the obvious who have taken it. I liked to play her on, though. The angry flush always built up the the point her entire face turned a delicate red, and it was very... Well, let's say that no matter how annoying it could be that she insists on accusing me of every missing thing in her room, it's safe to say I love seeing her angry. When she got further into detail, she wanted to know why I kept her here, and then promised a curfew, but I could only decline. A little voice inside me just wanted to see her this worked up again. If only I could hone this anger toward her singing, she wouldn't be such a dead thing! I found that in case she gets out of hand, I could use my voice to calm her down, but it only made her dislike me more because it was out of her control.
"I hate you, hate you, hate you!" She spat at me. The same words of my mother. It's strange how things seem to take their turns with me. First my mother, and now my only love... At least I could have power over the second one.
"You don't mean it." I muttered, watching for any sign of change. I tried to swallow my greater sadness to keep from getting on my knees and begging for her mercy.
"I do mean it!" She argued hotly. "I don't understand you at all! Just tell me the truth for once because I can see that you're hiding it! You hide your face and over half this mansion from me and I need explanation. Why did you take me in when nobody else did? I want to know!" She pleaded now. I had half the mind to tell her everything because of the way she put it, and she was correct in all of it. I couldn't pass all these lies through her and not expect questioning. I just didn't think I'd get character out of her so easily. Just the thought of not being able to live with myself if she kept pleading like this to me with tears threatening to fall again and once more, because of me.
"You want to know, Christine?" I asked silently, looking at her playing with her hands, and looking like a kicked puppy because of my response. I don't think she was expecting it. She nodded slowly, biting her lip to restrain that one tear. I did what my greedy part of my mind told me to right then, because it felt that if I touched her, she would feel what I felt, or at least start to understand. I grabbed her little hands in mine, and felt my heart drop to the bottom of my chest at the forced touch.
"Know, Christine... That I care for you very much, and it would pain me very much to see you harmed." Which was incredibly true, and she looked even more disgusted, and tried to pull her hands back yet she paused, her eyes meeting with mine again.
"I don't know you." I could sense the instant surprise and disgust that my words took onto her. I sighed... so it would be like this.
"I know," I whispered just enough that she could hear it. I pulled her hands by force to my covered lips, just briefly smelled the scent of her skin for the first time, leaving me useless to my own yarn, and let it drop on her own accord. It was obvious that this crossed lines. She was utterly repulsed, and I immediately chastised myself once more in my head for even thinking about touching her so. She backed up and so did I, the nerve of more rejection making me feel even more sick to my stomach. She turned and ran, and turned her head just in time to see me bothering to go after her, but her expression seemed to take me back. She left me to this living room, with only music, a book, and the fire to keep company with. As always.
Sooo tell me what you think. I figured I should put the note at the end so then I might be able to remind you to review. Now it's time for you to do so. So go on... review! You could answer questions such as-- Is the character not quite right? Perhaps it's not floating your boat, is there some sort of thing I could do to make it better? I would really like some answers. Four reviews... not enough.