Chapter 12
____________________________________________________
Falling asleep is a hard thing to do when you are in a lot of pain. Tossing and turning, I was trying to imagine how difficult it must have been for Erik as well. The room was frigid as usual but my body felt extremely hot. I sat up and felt my forehead. I was sweating. I crawled out of Erik's large bed and tried walking around a little. I attempted to be quiet, so I wouldn't disturb Erik. I glanced over at Erik's bookshelves and wondered if reading would put me to sleep. I decided not to, and just sat down next to a few lit candles. I glanced over and saw the cymbal playing monkey, a rather familiar object that could still bring a smile to my face. I took it from the table and wound it up. It started to play its song. Masquerade. I set it back onto the table and just watched it. The monkey repeatedly put his cymbals together and moved with the song. I started to hum to it, remembering all the wonderful formal balls I used to attend that would play this type of music. I closed my eyes and imagined myself at yet another one; dancing, watching everyone smile and sing along. I stood up and started twirling about, as if I had a dance partner. I also remembered all the beautiful dresses, and oh! Some of the dresses the ladies would wear looked very fun to waltz in indeed! Ruffled gowns, laced with beautiful detail, twirling about, as they would dance. Then my mind went back to the last ball, the masquerade ball. Though it was ended abruptly because of Erik, it was a splendid ball. Raoul had no trouble making me laugh that night, and he was a wonderful dancer. I still thought of him every now and then, and I would even imagine talking to him just one more time. What he would say and what I would say, I wasn't sure.
It was early in the morning now, and I could hear Erik attempting to get out of bed. I rushed to his room and encouraged him not to walk around. He was obviously in great pain and I wasn't sure if it was a good idea for him to walk.
"Just stay in bed Erik, you need to rest."
He seemed preoccupied, and wasn't quite awake yet. He just seemed to be mumbling.
"What if – what if he comes – what if he returns –"
I quietly hushed him and suddenly he started looking at the bandages on my arms and legs. He did not say anything for a long time.
"I hate to see you like this Christine, your wounds look incredibly painful. May I ask what happened that caused them?"
I then got nervous; Erik would be disappointed in me if I told him that the reason that man came down to his lair was because of my foolishness. However, one thing I knew about Erik, is he could always tell when I was hiding something or lying. Reluctantly I started to speak, but stopped. I tried my hardest not to start crying. Erik seemed as if he did not understand at all, and was examining me intricately.
"You don't want to tell me?"
I shook my head in self-disappointment.
"I was seen, and that man started to run after me. I tried to escape through one of the hidden doorways but I went the wrong way and – and as I was running from him I fell through this tunnel. So in order to save myself from the fall I used my arms and legs to press against the sides of the stone wall."
Erik seemed flustered and frustrated.
"I need to fix that – oh Christine you must forgive me, how terrible I feel you were not warned about that tunnel --"
"No, Erik! You don't understand – I left you to go talk to little Meg and Ismene, I mean I didn't really want to talk to Meg-"
Erik stood up, but quickly grunted in pain and held his side while leaning against a wall. He looked distressed, and I felt ashamed of myself. I covered my face and started to cry.
"Christine…"
"I'm so sorry Erik," I sobbed.
"Christine, please, do not cry. Come, I want to show you something."
I looked up at him, confused. He did not seem angry at all. I took his hand and he slowly led me into a small room I have never been in before. Infront of me was something that had a sheet over it. He let go of my hand and spoke softly.
"Close your eyes."
I did so, and I heard him take the sheet off. When he told me to open my eyes I found myself completely in awe. Infront of me was the most stunning ball gown I had ever seen. It was a beautiful pale blue with gold stitching and had lace ruffles all along the bottom. And it looked my size. I slowly walked towards it, noticing new ornate details with every step. The gown was glistening with beautiful rhinestones and the eloquent design of the dress was like nothing I had ever seen before. Just looking at it took my breath away.
"Erik, who's gown is this?!"
He kept his eyes on my and smiled.
"Why, it is yours Christine."
"But where did you get a gown such as this?"
I had no clue who could have possibly owned a dress like that. Carlotta's gowns weren't even half as beautiful as this one.
"I made it."
I looked over at him, stunned out of my mind.
"You – what?"
"I don't know if you ever noticed, but I used to take dresses from your room in order to discover your dress size. I know how much you love beautiful dresses Christine, I used to watch you sneak into Carlotta's dressing room just to gaze admiringly upon her ball gowns. I knew you would love to have one of your own, and so I have been working on creating this lovely dress just for you. I have always wanted to make a dress that brought out your true beauty, not just some gaudy and lurid thing that was just for show. I have put a lot of time into it, and I hope you will like it."
I was speechless. No one had ever done anything like that for me before. Just thinking about how hard he must have worked on it, and how much time he put into it; it was all too much. I felt as excited as a small child. Just the thought that I owned something that beautiful was a feeling much passed sublime, a feeling I had never experienced.
Erik knelt down in pain and I took his hands.
"This dress, Erik, is absolutely gorgeous. I never you were such a craftsmen in this area! Why do you do such wonderful things for me?" I couldn't help but keep smiling.
"Because I am in love, my dear."
I covered my face, trying not to expose my blushing, and Erik smiled at this.
"Christine, I know things can get dreary for you down here, and if you want to socialize with the people you know, might I suggest a more hidden way to do it?"
I was completely astounded Erik was being so patient. He was starting to be a better husband than I had ever imagined he would be. I could tell he was trying to change for me, and it made me want to change for him as well.
"What do you mean, Erik?"
"They are holding another masquerade ball, Christine. As long as we disguise ourselves, I think we would have a marvelous time together. I noticed you this morning, dancing around, and I think taking you to a ball would help lift your spirit greatly since you love dancing so well."
His words excited me. Not only did I long to go to another ball, but being dressed in Erik's beautifully made gown would make it even better. I grinned in excitement and wrapped my arms around him, he held me tightly for a moment, and then looked at me with enthusiasm.
"Do you want to try it on?"
I nodded and ran quickly to the gown. I took it to my room and when I tried it on immediately felt how perfectly it fit me. Erik came in and helped me tie the back. I stepped infront of my mirror and hardly recognized myself. The gown accentuated every curve on my body and the color brought out my eyes like no other clothing I had ever worn. Erik studied it, seemingly proud of his work. I twirled around and the dress caught air under it and flourished outward, blossoming a greater area of the floor.
"Oh, Erik it fits beautifully! I will be the envy of the ball!"
"You are always the envy, darling."
_________________________________________
Though Erik did not move around much, he still wanted to be at his organ, playing and singing his music. He wrote many songs in one day, and could write dozens of songs just on my eyes alone. He wrote such beautiful pieces. On one particular night I had asked him to play me something on his piano to help me sleep. He told me to sit down next to him on the bench. When I did, he began playing a particularly beautiful song I had never heard him play before. I closed my eyes and nestled my head against his shoulder, and he poured romantic passion onto the keys, making the song soar even deeper into my entrancing state. He then began to sing. His voice had become an addiction; when he sang to me I could hear nothing else, I could see nothing else, nothing but him. He would occasionally lean in and sing softly into my ear for a moment, making me feel as if I were passed the clouds, above and beyond them just floating about. He then stopped playing his piano, but continued to sing, while wrapping his arms gently around me.
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears.
Shamed into solitude
Shunned by the multitude
I learned to listen
In my dark, my heart heard music.
I longed to teach the world
Rise up and reach the world
No one would listen
I alone could feel the music
Then at last, a voice in the gloom
Seemed to cry "I hear you;
I hear your fears, Your torment and your tears."
She saw my loneliness
Shared in my emptiness
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears
Though I could feel myself slipping into a deep sleep, I opened my eyes to see Erik with teary eyes, watching me.
"Erik," I said in almost a whisper, "when did you write that song?"
"It was that night I thought I had lost you, the night you left but came back."
He held me closer and I closed my eyes.
"Erik, do you ever think about maybe leaving this place?"
There was a moment of silence. Then he spoke sounding a little confused.
"And go where, my love?"
"Oh, just somewhere away from here. Away from everyone trying to hurt us, somewhere where we can live by ourselves. Like out in the country, maybe a cottage, with a beautiful garden and a wooden fence. One with large fields holding dashing wildflowers as far as the eye can see."
I sighed and smiled, thinking about it.
"I think that is a lovely image, Christine."
I sat up and looked at him.
"Wouldn't you miss the operas here though, Erik? You would no longer live at a place where you grew up and opened your heart to music."
He gently started rubbing back, looking as if he were considering this thought.
"I have lived down here many years, yes, and I have written many operas for this place. But music will be with me no matter where I go, and it is not the opera house I am in love with, Christine, it is you. You are and have always been my muse. You are the inner essence of my talent, that light that always inspires me. The setting is therefore irrelevant. Living alone with you without any distractions of the world would be wonderful."
A small smile spread across my face and I leaned in, giving him soft subtle kisses. He still had tears in his eyes, and I wiped them all away.
"Erik, I am sorry for all the times I have run away from you. Please believe me when I promise you I will never run from you again."
His eyes seemed to be glistening with love and affection. He was an emotional mess, but I knew I had healed part of his heart by saying those words. Erik took deep breaths trying to talk to me.
"My beloved Christine, how I have longed for you all these years. You must pardon my emotions, which seem to be running away. But all I can say is that – I love you dearly – and wholeheartedly. And even if you would tell me right now you never wanted to see me again, I would still always be right here -- loving you for the rest of my life."
Eventually his composure broke and he could not speak anymore. I gently hushed him and ran my fingers through his hair, and he buried his face in my shoulder.
"Oh, my dear husband, if only I could catch these runaway emotions of yours." He and I both laughed at this, and Erik asked me if I wanted him to play for me longer. I smiled and shook my head.
"Just take me to bed, dear." I extended my arms to him and he picked me up, and carried me to his bed. Before I fell asleep he whispered into my ear, I love you.