Sorry for all of you I've kept waiting ... School's almost over - one more week of tests, and then I'm basically done! So here's a little something to tide you over (I should be studying for AP bio and a bunch of math finals, but I'm taking a break ...) I'll update everything a ton this summer, I promise - and I cannot WAIT to be done with high school forever :)

Also, sorry if I didn't respond to your reviews, but I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for letting me know your thoughts. I really appreciate it!

Standard disclaimers apply.

When her eyes open once more she is in her bed, dressed in a nightgown. She is clean and dry, and so for a moment she lets herself forget what had happened. What she had allowed to happen.

But she had never guessed that this outcome was even a possibility. How is it that life clings so desperately when she needs it to be extinguished, and yet slips away now when she cannot bear to lose it?

This is what she gets for playing God. It appears she has angered the real thing, maybe beyond repair. Because death, like life, is wild and unpredictable. It is not her place to interfere.

Now she is paying the price for her actions. And from one glance at Erik's face, where he sits at her bedside with a stone-cold expression, she knows it isn't just her — they both suffer.

"Erik," she says. Her voice is rough, dry. He doesn't speak at all.

"I'm sorry."

This time he inclines his head slightly. "I know. I am as well."

She wants to tell him that he's done nothing wrong, but she can't find the words.

"Did it– Was there–" She doesn't know how to voice this question, either, but she must.

He merely clenches his fists, the corners of his mouth tightening. "I took care of it."

"I want to see," she whispers, her voice trembling, "I need to–"

"NO!" The scream is so unwavering and so final that she jolts back, any further protests caught in her throat. Erik looks slightly guilty at his outburst, more so after tears begin to flow down her cheeks once more, but doesn't change his mind. "I apologize for shouting, but no. You forfeited the right."

"I'm sorry," she whispers again. But if he heard, he gives no indication. He has already turned away.

She looks around the room. The dress she had been wearing hangs by her bed, the stain dark and unforgiving against the pale fabric. It burns inside of her almost as much as his gaze does, and so when he leaves the room she stumbles out of bed, rips it down, and shoves it roughly in the bottom of her closet. She wants to destroy it, to throw it into the fireplace or send it to the bottom of the lake, but she can't bring herself to.

It's all she has left of the child that never was.

Promising herself that she won't speak of this again, that she'll let things return to the way they were, she walks slowly to the door of her room. "Erik?" she calls, making her way down the hall. She can see his piano, and the kitchen. There's no response. There's no one there at all.

He's left her.

Her response is not at all dramatic this time — no tears, no screaming, no throwing his possessions to shatter on the floor. She realizes for the first time, with a twinge of guilt, that he doesn't have many possessions left — she'd guessed he hadn't been living here any longer, but that doesn't take away from the desolate feel of what was supposed to be her safe haven.

If he never comes back, she'll have little to remember him by.

She can't stay here, doesn't want to. Everywhere she looks is a ghastly reminder of all her shortcomings and sins, angry accusations of the wrongs she has committed of late. She stumbles from the empty room, down one of the passages, and into the basement of the opera house. Eyes wide, she scans the shadows.

And meets the gaze of a young stage hand, who stares at her in horror.

Reviews are confidence boosters! I might not be able to reply this time with everything that's going on, but I promise I do read them and they make my day :)

Much love,
KnightNight