I'm aiming for this chapter to clear a few things on Christine's mood swings... I don't intend it to be this violent, but I think it's the only way I can portray my ideas. Please don't worry... this story, I have decided will be very long with no intentions of a sequel like the last story I have written. I hope that I'm portraying this suspensefully enough, for it's not /just/ Christine, but Erik as well. Maybe when I write Erik's point of view which I do so hope to do once I complete this story later on, it will be utterly defined. For right now, Christine has no idea what he's trying to do, my Erik happens to be very deceitful, if you haven't guessed to begin with.

Now, with this thing cleared up, I hope to resume my story with utter finality and peace between the two even if it does mean the extreme. Please do stay on the edge of your seat with this ending, for I've been working on it all day.

Love to all who review,

~The Phantom's Flutist~

Chapter 19:
His Deceitful Voice

The rest of the night was in content silence, or maybe discontent at the same time. I wasn't sure whether it was because he took my kiss the wrong way or perhaps he thought I didn't really mean it. I didn't know which one it was myself, so I laid off with speaking altogether, feeling like I only hurt him more if I did.

We went back to the hotel in silence, though Erik simply had to hold my hand, it seemed. As long as it pleased him to touch him just for a little while, I was fine. No matter how bony his hand was, and despite the fact I felt like I was holding hands with a skeleton, it felt...okay. I guess? What a strange relationship.

Before we parted at my door to my room, he paused for a second, not letting me shut the door, looking at our entwined flesh for a moment, and spoke for the first time in about an hour.

"Goodnight, Christine." He replied somberly, "I'll be back at the hotel possibly after you're asleep tomorrow night. Have a nice time tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded passively, and noticed he still held my hand firmly.

"I also... wondered if you could... you know... kiss me again? I won't see you for a while, and... well, please?" He was timid again, and I knew almost instantly that this was what he was thinking for the past hour. I narrowed my eyes, taking this a bit more cruelly than I should have, and nodded.

I leaned close and pressed my lips on the other side of his jaw bone, and worked my way up to his cheek, and eventually he was so much lower before me, that I decided reluctantly to kiss his waxy forehead, and he squeezed my hand firmly before letting go of it.

"Oh," He began quietly. "You make me so happy, Christine, did you know that?" He asked, lingering on his own words for just a few seconds, as I watched him intently, feeling a little dull within myself.

"Goodnight, my sweet Christine. I love you," He bid once more, and with a swift floating movement, he turned back.

"Goodnight, Erik," I whispered, feeling my hand where he touched it, rubbing my fingers over it, "I love you," I believe I said to the thin air, hearing the door shut, and I shut my own, walking into the dark room, and switching on the lights, feeling lonely once more. I dragged myself to the dresser and changed into a nightgown, turned on the television, for once having background noise, and set the timer.

I nestled into the comfortable comforter, not bothering to even put all of the covers over my somehow freezing body, and shut off the light, shutting my eyes.

I couldn't sleep.

I counted sheep, I hummed to myself, I turned off the television, and I rolled on the bed as if to be reaching for something unseen, and never was I comfortable enough to sleep at all. What did I need...? I tried to push all thoughts out of my mind, I listened to my own music that would play in my mind over and over again... but the only most comforting thing was to rethink listening to Erik's musical voice tell me things, sing me to sleep, and sing with me... With that as my only thought for the night, nothing rebelling against it, no hard feelings, I fell asleep comfortably.

I awoke to an obnoxious beeping sound... since when did I have an alarm clock? I groaned, trying to block it out without having to turn it off with my pillow, but it didn't work. I thought about throwing it across the room but then they'd be wondering why the room wouldn't have an alarm clock like all the others do. I raised an arm and began probing it to find a switch of some sort, turning on the radio that I didn't understand, listening to classical music, and then finding it extremely loud and fuzzy, until the next switch cut the entire thing off. I was never good with alarm clocks which explained a lot. Who turned the damn thing on, anyway?

Erik.

Well, duh. And how did he get in? There's a reason why the lock is on the other side of the door from where my room is connected to his. Clever, huh?

Letting out a disgruntled moan, I found light cascading through the room when I finally opened my eyes, and it was warm and wonderful.

I did the customary morning things in order to get ready, wearing one of my nicer summer outfits for whomever was going to let me venture about Florence with them as a babysitter. I hated the idea as much as anything, of course, but I didn't hate it enough that I'd have Erik yell at me again. Anything but that.

Where was I to meet this babysitter, anyway? Surely Erik didn't leave me to guess if he didn't want me to hurt myself. My questions were eventually answered when the man who set the stupid alarm clock left a note on the writing desk next to the television.

Christine-

You'll meet your caretaker for the day in the lobby when you're finished around ten. Be good.

Yours,

Erik

What? He times me? Well... I don't know if I should be surprised or not, but it was certainly strange because by the time I read the note, I looked at the clock on the nightstand which read 9:52, and narrowed my eyes. How... perverse? I'm not sure... He times me when I'm getting ready... Well, he's gone now, and I don't have to be awkward now. I was on my own-well, somewhat alone- today and I could do whatever for the day and I was in Italy, how much better could it get? I'll have to thank Erik for this later.

I grabbed my purse which happened to be next to my phone, and my wallet which lay out next to it. He provided me with euros, of course... which I supposed was a lot. I sighed to myself, not sure of what to think, and put the wallet into my purse, and opened the phone curiously, searching through the contacts to find that a few people were missing from the list. To begin with, Raoul was gone and Meg was as well. I wasn't sure if anyone else was missing, and Erik's name was definitely still there, though I wasn't sure whether I would need to reach him or not. Whatever business that he'd be attending to that would take up an entire day shouldn't be interrupted. A small part of me couldn't wait for him to return so I'd tell him of everything I saw and put thanks upon him if I could do anything else.

I smiled, and walked out of the room, putting the key to the door carefully inside my wallet. I walked down the familiar stairs and into the lobby, not knowing who exactly I would see, for it was pretty busy for it being the morning and everyone is taking leave.

"Christine Daae?" Someone said my name in a thick accent, and powerful voice.

I turned to see a girl possibly no older than I, and I smiled bleakly.

"That would be me," I said, acting to be enthusiastic... She looks like I could ditch her at any time when she's turned around. Maybe that's exactly what I'll do.

"Signore said to help you around Florence..." She said half to herself and then somewhat to me. Okay, then...

"That's probably what he did." I said encouragingly.

"So... what you like to do last?" She asked, suddenly enlightened. I squinted my eyes, and shook my head.

"You mean first?"

"Yes, yes... first. Pardon me, English is not... very good."

"I understand," I said. "Well... what is there?"

"Sightseeing? No?" She asked timidly.

"Sure, yeah..." I guess...

"Very well. How about... the Duomo? And how about after that, the Museo?"She asked in an even thicker Italian accent. I felt bad for hardly understanding but I knew Museo meant museum and that was something I was definitely wanting to do.

"Sure." I shrugged and we walked out of the hotel without another word. I assumed we were walking today, so I was somewhat glad to be wearing comfortable sandals.

It was humid, but with a breeze that came through periodically to cool things down. The sights were astounding as we walked along the sidewalk, further than I've been. A large tower was tolling the hour, and she waved her hand toward it.

"Giotto's Bell Tower. Would you want to see inside?" She asked, and I looked up it with an unsteady glance, and then to her and shrugged.

"Sounds cool." I replied, and we walked closer to a line of people near the door to the large clock tower.

It went on as so. We waited in line to go up the large tower and get a good view of the city from there, which was very exciting.

"Sorry, I don't believe I got your name," I said whilst going up the stairs.

"Gianna," She smiled absently, and looked around awkwardly seeming very timid. That was rather annoying, though, if anyone who I have for accompaniment, I would much like them to be social. I huffed and crossed my arms, looking at the line ahead of us and sighed.

"So... you only know signore by that name?" I asked conversationally. She looked at me oddly and I backed off.

She nodded as if she just admitted a crime. I didn't push her any further, though she wasn't the ideal person to be with, I now just scornfully wanted this day to be over with.

The view from the tower was remarkable, just as I theorized, and I took it all in like a sponge since I had no camera to remember this time by.

I wished I could just have someone better to talk to who knows English as well as I did... it was a time that I longed for Meg again, to be by my side and comment on people as they walk by, and shop and laugh as good friends do. What was I thinking? It was better than being stuck in the hotel room all day, right? I glowered on it for a second... I guess.

We went to the fabulous museums with works of Michelangelo and all these different artists that I've only read of, and read about different architecture with my personal translator, Gianna. The rest of the day was almost a blur.. I don't think I remember much when I think back on it. I felt miserable being here, and slightly besides myself. I guess having Gianna around makes me think about my friends and how they would make life better. And Raoul... I hardly thought about him anymore which explains why I thought I was falling for Erik last night.

My eyes brightened at the thought, utterly confused and bedazzled at the same time. Italy held no more interest to me. I wanted to go back to America and find a way out of this, for I couldn't resume being this uncomfortable... He was sucking me into his trap and I was too suffocated to realize it. Look at what he's done to me!

I was a mess coming back into the hotel room early after eating dinner and dismissing Gianna, who kindly waved off, smiled, and turned back to leave me. I don't know if I should be guilty or not, but Erik seemed to have just ruined my Italian dreams and wishes. He ruined it all just like he ruined my life which was a mess.

I stayed in the hotel room, sipping at coffee into the later hours of the night, watching shows I hardly paid attention to.

I think it was one in the morning when Erik came back, and he noticed my light was still on for some reason, and knocked on my door. I didn't answer for the longest time until, finally, he broke in, looking at me curiously.

"Surely you must be tired," He noted, coming closer to me. I blinked at him, and stood there dully, putting the coffee onto the nightstand.

"Did you have a good time?" He asked, and I drooped my lids to look at my hands, trembling unconsciously, and shook my head in the negative.

"I don't think it rained, did it? Was it too hot?" He asked cautiously, coming nearer and nearer with every word, and I felt myself gradually backing away, feeling my entire body crumple from underneath me. "Oh, darling, tell me what happened? Was Gianna not nice? I thought you would have a great time with her... oh, answer... You can't be so sad."

"Go away, Erik..." I hissed quietly, not bothering to look back up. "Please... I can't sleep and you're not helping."

He grabbed my shoulders, and seemed like he would shake me, so I tried to squirm out of his grasp, and I felt his hand underneath my chin and trying to tilt it up when I slapped it away. This was becoming maddening.

"Tomorrow's your birthday, isn't it? Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

Oh, right... eighteen... an adult, no longer a child, and I have to grow up. I have to get over this...

"Go away," I hissed, becoming more upset that he wasn't listening.

"Christine-"

"YOU NEVER LISTEN! Go away!" I snapped at him, throwing his arms off of me angrily.

Without saying something, he seemed to be amused by my anger, and his eyes squinted as he would when I do such a thing. I got up to push him out, knowing it wouldn't take much. A part of me thinks I've been scammed from childhood, seemed to be wiped from it completely, I felt like an adult for these three years without parents. And even more so when I'm supposed to be married. It must be a lie. This must be some nightmare, really. Whatever happened to that wonderful life dad had in store for us two? Hmm?

After that train of thought, Erik was still standing there caught between disbelief and amusement.

"Did you honestly not hear me?" I think I laughed then, not a good laugh, it kind of sounded like a gag.

He put both hands up and began to back away, still looking deeply amused, and I wanted to slap him a few times just to get him to wake up from this deep fantasy he put me in and then took me right out of just leaving me.

Out of all the insults I shouted at him... I never seemed to mention hate... It might have been guessed somewhere in there, but nowhere in there was it direct. I just... couldn't.

I wanted to sleep, but all I did was remain with my eyes wide open thinking of nothing... just staring.

Italy was probably something just to get me to believe that I didn't hate him, to dazzle me enough that I felt nothing sincere anymore. Ugh. .. How could he do this?

I cried myself to sleep that night, sniffling, knowing right off the bat that this was going to be a terrible birthday. I mean, not that I didn't have anything worse, but I was going to be feeling like crap the entire day because I want to leave and I won't be leaving for another few days. Not that I wanted to get home again and be locked up... I actually didn't know.

I tried to think on the positive side like I usually could, but I found none. I felt in a cage again, more emotion than I've had in a long time. Real emotion. He was acting like a monster, eating me up like this and then spitting me back out when I realized what I've been doing these last few days.

I woke up in the morning to find him sitting there, watching me sleep. I could've screamed but I didn't have the urge to open my mouth. He was just so ghost-like it was terrible!

"Happy birthday!" He said enthusiastically, probably hoping I was back where I was two days ago. I grimaced, and saw that he was holding a small box in his hand. What now?

"I have a little something I got for you yesterday when I was out... a present of sorts... would you like to see?"

I shook my head in the negative, not wanting anything from him at the moment.

"Oh, nonsense... don't you want a birthday present? I know you haven't had one in three years..." He tried to lure me in, and I didn't move, trying to rebel against it, and he was saddened, I suppose to see that it wasn't working again.

"Could I show it to you and then you decide whether you want it or not? I'll return it to the store before we leave if you decide otherwise..." He sighed. That worked, I guess, so I shrugged, and he almost instantly rose from his seat and brought it to me, golden wrapping and silver bow and all. It was just a small box, with beautiful designs adorning it. He watched me with burning eyes, taking my finger and begin to open it carefully, feeling ashamed if I tear the beautiful paper. I carefully untied the ribbon, placing it on the bed beside me, and took off the lid carefully, to reveal something shiny. I removed the paper entirely, placing the box on my lap, and took out a silver chain that was a charm bracelet. Tiny golden charms were fixed on the silver rings that linked together. One was in the shape of an angel with a silver halo, the next, a music clef with diamonds embedded in it, and the third was a dove, with diamond eyes.

I tried not to cry, looking over the beautiful trinket, fingering with it and quietly fawning over it. Nobody has ever given me something this special. I didn't have the most horrible heart in the world at the second, so I let him put it on my wrist, as gentle as a feather, once more as if I might shatter.

I watched his hands wrap around my wrist with inhuman dexterity, it was graceful and serene, as if my hurtful words meant nothing. He doesn't get the hint, I thought to myself, letting my arm fall slowly to my side, and still looking at the bracelet he placed on my wrist curiously.

"This is only the beginning. I have one more surprise for you, if you choose to go with it. It will require formal clothing once more later on, though." He said almost to himself and to me.

"I don't think I like surprises anymore, Erik." I murmured, "I don't at all..." I shook my head, lifting a hand to wipe away tears, but he beat me to it, wiping them with his gloved hand, sending chills up my spine. "Why must you control me so, Erik?" I asked slowly, playing with the bracelet around my wrist.

He wasn't going to answer. I frowned, grimacing. "Answer me!" I hissed. That seemed to startle him, which was effective enough for at least these moments. He was getting to the point that he was understanding. This was good.

"I just... want..." He began, and I shushed him.

"There... see? You want it... you want it so much, don't you?" I scoffed. "So much that you turn and twist me until I'm nothing, Erik... You'll never earn my love like that!" I hissed, realizing it to myself once more.

He was silent, reluctant to admit to his own crime.

"I don't know what you want of me any longer. I don't see reason why I have to stay here. I'm eighteen... I can leave now."

"You're not leaving me." He hissed, suddenly, taking me aback, and my fire was immediately flickered out when he was taking to toll on me now, and I backed away, in fear he would slap me right there. "You sniveling child..." I heard him scoff coldly under his breath.

"You selfish jerk!" I spat right back at him. "How dare you play with me like that... with your damned voice! With your damn..." I was going to say charm, but caught myself instantly, glaring, "Why... do you toy with me so?"

"I didn't know..." He began, and I cut him off, but then looked to him for his voice was suddenly bittersweet, and I looked up.

"What?"

"I don't understand, Christine... what are you talking about...?"

"What do you mean you don't 'understand' what I'm talking about!" I hissed, raising my hand to slap him angrily, my cheeks turning a brilliant red, and I felt like I should kick him.

"Christine! Calm down..." He said, taking my hand before it reached him with the reflexes of a cat. "Explain, please."

"I don't need to explain anything!" I cried, tearing my wrist away. "I never wanted to..."I began, not able to articulate the rest of the sentence.

"Never wanted to what?"

"I never meant to..." I coughed back tears that were flowing down. "I hate you! I hate you for making me love you!" I screamed at him, and threw my pillow to him, which he easily dodged. "Your damned voice! I hate it! I hate it!" I barked, and hid my face ashamedly into the pillow, not wanting to move. "I hate being like this!" I screamed into the pillow.

I just wish I couldn't feel again. I want to be numbed again. I don't want to love anymore and I don't want to be loved for it was wretched! Oh... Oh what am I to do? He must think me insane with all these damn mood swings! He must bring it upon me with myself, and with his voice and swing me back and forth to persuasion to hatred... What is he doing!?

"We shall leave, then." He rushed quickly, grabbing my wrists, sounding utterly cold. "We'll go back to America. You don't deserve to see La Scala anyway!"

I didn't care at the moment, all I could do was try to get my wrists away from his hard grasp, until he let me drop onto the bed.

"Pack your bags, Christine, we're leaving tonight."