I stepped into the gondola gingerly. It brought me memories of the night I left, one of the worst nights of my life.
"Don't keep your friend waiting," he chuckled as I reluctantly rowed out the gates on the gondola.
"Hurry back," he added softly. I could see the genuine love in his eyes and smiled.
Don't let me go! I pleaded with my eyes. I'll never come back! I'm going off to marry Raoul, and I'm never going to see you again! Stop the boat before its too late!
He never received my warning.
I shuddered at the memory, rowing faster.
I approached the gate, shocked. It was shut.
Erik never shut the gate, unless he was leaving me here, or if he was gone in general.
Well, I thought. You've been gone for a while. Maybe he's changed his ways.
I cranked the gate open halfway, and it pushed itself up the rest of the way. One of the many unsolved mysteries of Erik's lair.
I rowed through to the edge of the little island, stepped out, sat on the organ bench, and sobbed.
All the candles had been blown out. The curtains to the swan bed were open, and he wasn't asleep.
I looked through the countless rooms in his lair. I found the sheet music to Don Juan Triumphant, beautifully painted pictures of me, and his Persian music box shaped like a monkey.
But Erik wasn't there.