I'm so sorry for the long wait and all. I've been busy with auditions and camp and all that jazz... This is relatively short because I've been uninspired of what to do next, though I have plans for further events, just not this one particularly. It might be a little dry because I wrote it on a highway once more, and I was distracted, and then late at night when I found time to write. So sorry... anyway, it's going to get better probably next chapter, but I'm afraid you may have to wait longer for that one too. Tell me how much it sucks, or you could compliment, I'm not sure... whatever you choose. Chastise me for being horrible on a chapter, I don't care. But REVIEW and READ....:P

'~The Phantoms Flutist~

Chapter 12:

Anywhere But Here

Well, Anne eventually came back. Evidently what Erik had suffered through had been something like a heart attack which is what she told me as I sipped at my soup, casually leaning into the chair, feeling comforted for myself for the first time this week ever since Erik scared me like so. I didn't see him so much, though, he was laying on the couch or in his room, and when he saw me in the house, he would weakly begin a conversation and out of the heartfelt pity I felt for him, I nodded along with it, though I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to say.

Anne was my company for the longest time, and I did things around the house with her because Erik never knew. I cleaned my dishes I used, helped make my dinner and learned off of her as she told me what to do. We were close friends, I knew, just because I didn't have anything to lean on except for a wall that seemed to blockade the world, but hold up only so long. When the afternoon work was done she and I would sit in the library and talk about anything. She would leave only momentarily to attend to Erik who she never gave any information to me on.

"Is he going to die, Anne?" I asked when she returned from the room.

"I'm not sure..." She replied, her head hanging low. "He's gotten over many illnesses, but he's aging because he doesn't maintain a normal system."

"What am I to do?"

"Wait..." She shrugged sadly, massaging her temples and leaned back into the chair once more. "Who knows... he may be back to normal tomorrow... Do you care?"

"I don't know," I replied softly. "He's taken me from my world and gives me more than I can ever wish for. How does this come with love, Anne? I can't..."

"You're young, you shouldn't be faced with this. I tried to tell him that."

"He only listens to things he'd like to hear," I added, rolling my eyes.

"It's all he's ever known. Like a child, almost." She noted thoughtfully, leaning into her seat and looking to the ceiling with a smirk, as if just remembering something she obviously didn't want me to hear for she didn't mention it.

"I don't know if I can take this any longer," I huffed, groaning to myself. "I'm not going to give in, even if he does survive... I value my sanity very much. I've lost so much that I've held dear, and now he keeps taking it away..."

"He loves you very much." Was all she said and I nodded.

"I know that." I replied slowly, "I pity him..."

"We all do," she said, nodding once more.

There was a slight rub against the door, and I knew, just in my mind without actually knowing, that Erik just heard everything we said, but it wasn't like he was going to admit it. He stalked in, graceful and strong as ever and simply sat onto the sofa, leaning over as he did once before.

"Are you any better?" Anne was the first to ask, rising from her seat next to me.

"Yes, Anne. You are dismissed." Erik said, waving her off with an elegant hand.

"You don't sound like it." I noted when she left.

"I told you to not worry about me, Christine. I'm perfectly able to keep hold of myself." He said, sounding intensified even though he was just sitting there.

I felt slightly aghast by his coldness, "I was just trying to help!" I hissed back at him, coming up from my chair angrily.

"I don't need help!" He shot back, his gold eyes flaming.

I felt my cheeks warm up in fierce frustration, "Why are you always so difficult!?" I threw down the book I was holding to the floor with a loud thud, my heart thumping in my chest. He was silent for a second, which seemed like forever, simply studying over me.

I wasn't about to stomp off into my room, either, so I stayed there, fixing my eyes on his beautiful ones that were no longer flaming, but seeming slightly perturbed.

"I'm sorry, Christine," He replied softly, bending his head low. "I didn't mean to lash out at you like that... I don't know what came over me."

I'm not going to say "it's fine" just to make him feel better. I gave some feeling toward him and he returned it with his own impatience. I only glared at him, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Won't you say something?" He asked quietly, immediately sounding perturbed by my silence. I held my lips shut firmly, and he rose from his seat unsteadily, outstretching an arm for me to take, but I only stared at it.

"Oh, Christine, don't be so angry at me. I didn't mean it!"

"Of course you didn't mean it!"

"Why are you being so fickle all of a sudden?"

"Why are you being a jerk?" I shot back, my voice raising as his was.

"I demand my answer first." He simply said deviously, crossing his own arms challengingly. Because, yes, I care too much! I blinked a few times, still glaring and backed away stiffly, not believing my own words I just thought.

"I hate it here." I hissed, to block out my actual reply disbelievingly. "And you know what? I'm sick of this whole changing thing." I began to sob, my own mood swings taking a sudden violent turn as I looked into his eyes. "All I wanted was my dad back again without him actually being here! I didn't ask for these nice things, I didn't ask for someone like you! All I wanted to be was left alone." The last part was a lie. I want to be loved again. "I'm just trying to be normal, okay...?" I thought for a second, for it was the truth once more, "Like you! I'm just like you and I want to be a normal teenager, with friends, and things that I can call my own. And I want to go to college, and be around people, not locked up here."

He stared at me once more for a good, long time earnestly and thoughtfully, though there was a hint in pain in his eyes at my outburst and time to speak my mind. I felt my heart still thumping, it being the only noise I could hear. Selfishness was only just a slight thought, but who was I to consider him back in?

"Is that what you truly want, Christine?" He asked so softly and dully that I hardly understood him.

"What I've been wanting for these past two years and I never got it. It's not fair and you're making it worse!"

"I didn't mean to make you feel this way..." He sighed silently.

I covered my mouth, not believing I actually said that. He could be dying and the last thought of someone he loves could be me doing this to him. I felt horrible, the familiar pain seeming to stick through my chest and in the back of my throat.

I was sniffing, though I didn't have any tears coming out, I fell to the closest seat, and hung my head low.

"It's not your fault entirely, Erik. It's not."

"Then who else would hold the burden?" He asked painstakingly, shaking his head over and over, seeming to try to decide something angrily.

"God." I whispered quietly, for it was he who gives and takes life away. He was agreeing with me as well. For a moment, it was awkward at finally agreeing on something.

"Then do you hate me so that you were not to give me another chance?" He suggested.

I wasn't going to the damn foster home now, just thinking about it made me shudder. I would be even more alone then I am here, and at least Erik cares, not some husband-deprived widow, watching over a group of rebellious and deprived teenagers that I felt like I was beginning to be. That wasn't the first step to becoming normal.

"Must you leave me, Christine? You only have to stay with Erik for a few more months and then maybe you can leave when he's gone," He implored, coming to me and taking my left hand in his and looking at the ring idly, along with the entwined flesh that seemed so sacred to him right then. "I love you more than life itself, and I'll do anything to make you happy again, but I'm afraid I might not survive too long... It will be very short, Christine, and Erik can make you the most happiest of women if you just give Erik another chance... I've been so lonely without you here..."

Right now, he needed me more then the world did. I haven't left a mark on it thats worth while, I haven't done something that could change someone else's life except for maybe Raoul. Meg had other friends and even a boyfriend to keep her happy instead of me, and Raoul had a business to oversee as he grew, and an aristocratic family to please. I had no one except Erik... Which isn't what I wanted, but it's a start. He said he'd be dead in a few months, basically, so what if I do have some sort of feeling toward Erik? Would my own life be able to afford one more loss?

The only possibility is to not feel anything, and just be there. I've done it before. I've done it to every family I've been to. It's not God's fault, it's my own... I just won't let anyone in because I'm frightened for my life they might just back right out... I can't do that.

I looked at his thin, bony hands, and took in a deep breath. "Yes..." I replied quietly.

He tenderly pressed his shapeless and cold lips unto my skin, for the second time, I was moved, somehow, the dying man was kissing my hands over and over again, and it burnt a hole right through me. I had to look away without him noticing, I just, simply, could not handle it.

In my peripheral vision, I saw him turn his head up with a light glance, into my eyes, that were smiling, "You're so good to me, Christine, so good... And beautiful, I do not deserve any of it... But I love you so..."

I forced a smile, though I was really dying inside, falling slowly, sinking into the ocean that I should never have treaded in anyway, my feet being tied together and sinking upside down. I had no way out of it.

"We shall do anything you wish tonight. Anything at all."

I shrugged, looking horrible as the two-faced thoughts flew through my head, and I shrugged for my voice would probably voice something I wish would not be seen.

"Oh, but I insist you choose, darling, I can take you anywhere."

"I don't... want to strain you..." I replied softly.

He gave a small chuckle coming to his feet to his tall posture, and I shrunk away. "What does it matter, Christine? I could live fully with you by my side."

"Well..." I began shortly, already sounding as lifeless as I felt. "What would you like to do?"

"How about a walk through my garden? Does that sound nice?"

"Sure." I replied quietly, nodding... "That sounds good, Erik."
____________________

Erik was like a dog following my feet, cautious of everything he does wrong and throwing himself before me and asking for complete forgiveness of his horrible actions and anger, and he says it's not really like him to do so. It wasn't too horrible for I felt absolutely nothing, though saw everything, and said things that I should never say.

It was like taking care of a child, though, telling him not to do things... like plead. It only made me feel horrible when all he wanted was my intimate satisfaction with him.

I only wish that somewhere in my heart I could return the passion that he lets me feel.

At night, he sings for me, and in the evenings we go out for walks about his garden and our conversations were small because I intended on remaining silent. And in the afternoons we would sing together, which seemed to be the only enjoyable time for myself. I believed it was only the way I was acting which led him to be this open with me. Acting as if I loves him back, and such, though I'm sure he had no real way of telling. Lying is such a horrible sin, you see... I could no longer bare it.

The days went out longer and longer and it seemed that there was no real end to them, except for the time when I felt like resting my head, whether it be on his knee as he'd lovingly stroke my hair with his long and slender fingers, thus feeling weird as it went along my back, sending small chills up my spine, but, in a way, it was comforting for my dad used to do that when he tried to calm me down when something went wrong.

"Christine, could you repeat that last phrase?" He asked sweetly, turning to me expectantly from the bench. I nodded, breathed in, and did as he instructed. I finished, and looked at him dully and he stiffened from the bench.

"No, that can't be right." He shook his head, and played the piano part to himself and then looked to me earnestly. "That wasn't good, try again."

I did so simply and effectively.

"Where's your emotion? Try once more with feeling, you're starting to sound dead." He insisted, and waved me off with a simple gesture of his finger.

I sighed and sang it again. He grunted with utter dissatisfaction and played an angry chord on the piano, as if he was a child about to have a fit.

"You're singing to one that may die if you are not to see you again. Right now you're telling them to just go ahead and die, and you're indifferent."

He said that in such a strange and comical way with his voice that I had a ghost of a smile when he finished and gave an exasperated gesture as a showman would.

I nodded and I think he smiled as well, and began to play a few bars before the phrase and queued me on.

"No, no, no!" He angrily shouted, throwing me aback, stunned at his sudden outburst once more, "With feeling, Christine!" He emphasized once more and then seemed to notice my evident silence and indifference that I honestly never seemed to lose throughout this entire lesson, and just now he was realizing it. If he wasn't paying attention to his student's voice then what was he paying attention to? My thoughts wandered about when he began his speech about how I need to put emotion in or else all this training won't matter.

Then only thing that he said that I seemed to have notice was the sincere question, "What do you feel right now, Christine?"

I looked at his speculatively, arching a brow.

"Tell me and I won't judge. Just sing your feeling, you can toy with the story all you want through however you are currently." He insisted.

"I feel..." I began dully, sounding like a rag doll, I thought, who just had a button pushed to speak. "I feel angry..."

"Yes... and...?" He added as he began to play the intricate introduction to the piece, and it was like the first time ever when I saw his fingers move over the keys, lightly touching each one with his long fingers that were strangely mechanical.

"I feel... aghast..."

"Go on," He pressed, making the music into something flimsy and it was like wind was blowing it around... aghast...

"I feel... awed."

The music turned regal and triumphant still using the same melody as before. The beauty swept me up, and the sudden curiosity that's been hiding for a while now seemed to come out as if it was over pouring from my chest.

"I feel hurt, I feel horrible, I feel guilty, I feel lonely..."

"What do you want?" he questioned over the music.

"I want music, I want my father, I want my friends, I want to be on stage..." I trailed off closing my eyes tightly, "I want to leave though I want to stay here, I want to be with you, I want... I want..."

"Sing!" His godly voice roared over top of the grand finale of his supposed introduction, and I opened my mouth and began the piece, my voice filled with all the thoughts that rushed toward me in a sudden gust of epiphany.

It went by too quick, though I was lightheaded and dazzled at the same time as I almost fell back from the last high note.

"That's better," He said out of the silence, "You must do that more often."

"Ouch..." I whispered to myself, massaging my temples.

It was agonizing silence once more, when he finally looked back to me, leaning onto the couch for support.

"But did you mean all of it?" He asked, sounding hopeful for me to say yes. I tried to remember what I just said before I sang, and then it hit me once more.

"Oh," I sighed, "Maybe..." I shrugged carelessly, letting my shoulders lag.

"You... you actually... want to be with me?"

"Is that not what I said?" I dryly commented pushing it aside carefully, trying to slide through this horrible conversation.

"I..." He wasn't sure, which was the first time he showed it so freely. "Never mind." He hissed back, and then quickly pulled out another piece of music.

And that, as I told you, was the most confusing lesson I believe I've ever received out of all of them.