"My angel is the one who looks over me
My angel is the one who cares about me
My angel who has beautiful eyes
My angel has brown hair
My angel will be there to hold me
My angel keeps me warm
My angel is the one who is always on my mind
My angel is the love of my life
My angel is the one in my dreams
My angel has soft kissable lips
My angel will catch me when I fall
My angel will make me smile when no one else can
My angel will love me for who I am
My angel will be there until the end of time
She is the angel god gave me"-Excerption from the diary of Erik
Erik's POV
That night as I laid in bed, all I could think about was the hug Christine gave me. My first hug, given to me by my angel. I was laying there sobbing into my hands in the middle of the stable, when Christine knelt beside me and embraced my body. In all my life, I have never felt something so wonderful. Feeling her arms wrapped around my body sent my heart fluttering. I don't know why, but I took her to lunch. Why? Why had I done such a thing? Why had I done such a foolish thing? I never ate in town…but after that hug, I dared to walk into town like a human being….But the hatred of men brought me right back into reality. I fell asleep that night, not saying one word to her…How could I?
I awoke on the morning of Thanksgiving, and pulled the blankets up over my head to block out the sunlight that was gleaming in through the window. As I laid there with my eyes closed, I began to smell something very good. It smelled like warm apple pie. Wait? Was Christine cooking? I flung back the covers, and slowly sat up, running my hands over my balding scalp. I then reached over for my braces, and locked my legs into them before standing up and throwing my robe on. Before walking out to the kitchen, I placed on my mask, and grabbed my walking stick. As I came around the corner, I spotted Christine bouncing around the kitchen, cooking and humming a soft, happy tune. The sight of her brown curls glowing in the sunlight made my heart leap.
"What are you doing?" I asked coldly.
Christine turned with a steaming pie plate within her hands.
"You're up. How did you sleep?" she asked.
"Fine, I guess…"
Christine put the steaming pie on the windowsill, and went back to the counter to roll out some floury dough.
"How long have you been up?" I asked.
"Since sunrise. There was so much cooking to be done that I couldn't wait any longer."
I walked over to my desk, and took a seat while Christine continued to move around.
"It's a beautiful day." Christine stated.
"No different than yesterday." I picked up my quill, and began writing.
It was then that Christine came walking over with an apple filling covered spoon in her hand.
"Here Erik, you have to try this." Christine held it towards my face, but I pushed it away.
"Would you stop. I'm trying to work."
"Apple pie is your favorite."
How did she know that? How in the world did she know apple pie was my favorite?
"I never told you that."
"Yes you did. You told me back in Paris."
I never knew Christine ever listened to me. Out of all the conversations I had with her, never did I ever believe that she was listening. Ten long years, and she still remembered that my favorite pie was apple.
"Erik, I've always listened to you."
"Just let me work."
When Christine was out of my hair, I continued working.
It was then, that Christine looked out the window and gasped in excitement….Damn! She discovered the parade. A few years ago while I was bed ridden, I was not only offered money in return for carousel music, but I was also asked to design a few floats for the Thanksgiving parade. I refused to watch the blasted parade, but the money I received for designing them suited me just fine.
"Erik! What's going on down there?"
"The parade." I didn't look up nor did I stop writing.
"What are those beautiful colored things?"
"Floats. I designed them. Now could you please just leave me alone."
"Oh, Erik, they're so beautiful. Could we get closer?"
"There's a balcony on the other side of the room…enjoy."
A few moments later, I looked up from my work to see Christine standing out on the balcony, looking down at the parade with a huge smile on her face. Why couldn't I let myself bring her such joy? Why couldn't I just let myself love her like my body wanted to? She gave me my first hug, why did I feel so obligated into making her happy? That very hug thrived within me, making me want to beg her for another one, and yet, my anger sat upon my shoulder like the devil, warning me that loving her would only bring back heartache in the end. But even still, my body and heart couldn't just let this moment of kindness pass. I wanted us to be even, and I knew this was my way.
I stood up from my seat, and slowly walked out to the balcony she was standing on. I hardly ever used it due to my hatred towards people. The air was cold, and the wind cut through me like a knife. I pulled my robe tighter against my chest, and stood beside Christine.
"You seem to be enjoying the view." I kindly stated…All I had to do was stay calm enough to get me through this.
Christine turned around, and smiled at my appearance. Oh, how her smile warmed my cold heart.
"I never told you this, Erik, but you're a genius." she leaned over the railing to get a closer look at the colorful floats that were passing by the crowds that lined the streets.
"You don't have to say that."
She turned to me, and her hand reached up towards my mask. I tried to pull away, but her hand landed right over the part of my misshapen lip that had been injured the day before. The soft feeling of her fingers against my flesh was like tasting heaven.
"That looks very sore." her finger glided over my lip. "I feel bad about what happened."
"It will heal."
How I loved her touch more than anything in the world, but like the monster I was, I pulled away.
"Erik, I know how much you and I don't get along, but there is something I want to ask you."
What? What could she possibly want out of me now?
"There is nothing more I will do for you, Christine."
Why did I always have to be so cruel? Oh, those horrible words….but in reality, it was really my heart. My heart was making me say these things only out of protection. For my heart knew that loving Christine would only burn me in the end.
"It's not much." she kindly argued. "It's just that I wanted to ask you to have dinner with me."
Dinner? Dinner? How dare she ask me to join her? I let her celebrate Thanksgiving and what does she do? Want to include me!
"I told you before that I have nothing to be thankful for. That is why I will not be joining you for dinner."
"You may not have a thing to be thankful for, but I do. Please, Erik, please say you'll join me for dinner."
I fought tooth and nail to say no to this girl. I bit my tongue and wanted to scream "no" over and over again….but my heart backed down and let me obey her request.
"Only dinner?" I questioned.
She nodded. "I ask nothing more of you."
"Then I will join you."
With that, I walked inside and locked myself within the bathroom. I was hideous, and yet I was to be having dinner with Christine. Why did I care so much to look respectable for her? But I still wanted to look normal, so I bathed and dressed myself in my best suit. I also placed on my wig, and looked at myself within the bathroom mirror before walking out. I still looked like a hideous mess, but better than I would have without my mask. By this time, Christine was setting the table, and my flat smelled wonderful. As much as I hated this, I sort of enjoyed it…. Never did my flat look and smell so…so loved.
I stood there, my hands sweating around my walking stick.
"Is…Is there anything I could do?"
Christine looked up from her spot, and gave me a beautiful smile.
"No, dinner is cooking. Probably about another hour or so."
As much as I loathed Christine, the thought of her working herself to death over dinner stung a bit. It was as if she were my slave, and she wasn't. I took a seat in my favorite arm chair, and began reading by the fire. This was like a dream I would wake up out of when morning came. It was like I would wake up in my cold uncomfortable bed to see the fireplace covered in cobwebs and Christine gone. In all of the ten years that I've been here, never has my flat smelled and looked as sweet as it did. Ten years ago this was exactly what I wanted, and now that I had it, there was something inside me that wanted it gone. But then there was another part of me that wanted it to never end.
When my grandfather clock struck the hour of two, my hands began to sweat again. I wiped my gloved hands over my trousers, and stood up from my seat. As I did so, Christine was standing in the door way with that beautiful smile lighting her face.
"Erik." she softly called my name, as if she were begging me to make love to her….No! I wouldn't think like that…It was so wrongly of me to do. "Dinner is ready."
My heart was racing a mile a minute as I stepped around the corner to see a table set for two, a candle burning in the center, with delicious smelling food surrounding it. Like the gentleman I wanted to be, I pulled out her chair, and Christine took a seat before I did the same. I looked down at my empty plate, never feeling so hungry in all of my life. The turkey looked great, the pots steaming with what ever was contained in them smelled wonderful….How badly I wanted to indulge myself into Christine's meal…Oh, Christine's meal…She had cooked for me. The woman of my dreams had made dinner, and was willing to eat with me…..but I knew it wouldn't last; it wouldn't always be this way.
"Are you ok?" she asked me.
I nodded. "Yes, I'm just wondering what to eat first."
Christine giggled, and reached her hands over the table.
"You can't eat yet. We have to say grace first."
"I'll agree to it." I warned her. "But only if you say it, cause I don't have a thing to be thankful for."
My hands moved themselves from my lap onto the top of the table where Christine's hands were. When hers interlocked with mine, my breath became caught within my throat. Even though I couldn't feel her skin, the strength of her hands squeezing my own was like an electric jolt to my heart. No one had ever interlocked their hands with my own…Oh, such wonderful things one could bring me…even if it were meaningless.
"Erik, I know you won't like this, but it's only right to remove your gloves when joining in on a prayer."
She wanted me to remove my gloves! The day before when she asked me to, I couldn't…My hands were boney, disgusting, scarred and hideous. She would hate my hands, just as she hated my face.
"Please, Erik."
How could I deny her what she wanted? I couldn't stop myself from giving her anything she wanted. Slowly, I pulled the fingers of my gloves off each hand, removing the gloves as carefully as possible. Once my freezing hands were free, I placed the gloves onto my lap, and held them out to Christine's. I closed my eyes, waiting to hear her gasp at such hideousness, but she didn't; she interlocked them with her own. Flesh! My body was feeling flesh against my own! I sighed within my throat, and tried to calm my rapid heartbeat down. When I dared to open my eyes, Christine was bowing her head, so I did the same.
"Heavenly father, we thank you for this bounty we are about to eat.
We thank you for the roof which is over our heads, but most of all I would like
To thank you for Erik…."
My head instantly rose to this. She was thanking god for me? How badly I wanted to turn away and not believe a single word, but I knew Christine wouldn't thank god for something if she wasn't serious about it.
"He has saved me from my abusive life and given me a place to stay until spring. Today, I am thankful for this food, but mostly for having him in my life…amen."
How my heart ached and fluttered at the same time. When she opened her eyes, her hand began to pull away from mine, but she stopped when I felt her thumbs making contact with both of my wrists….God! She found the scars. Years ago when I was a young man, I attempted suicide numerous times by cutting my wrists…all the times had come unsuccessful, leaving hideous marks beneath my wrists…On the other hand, my hands weren't unscathed either. They too were full of deep scars from an accident that occurred when I was just a child….
"Erik…" she gasped my name, and looked down at my wrists, running her fingers over the scars.
"It happened a long time ago." I assured. "I've lost count on how many times I attempted suicide."
"When's the last time you tried?"
I could hint anger within her voice, but she didn't understand…if only she could walk one day within my shoes.
"Fifteen years ago."
I heard her sigh in relief, and move her fingers to the many scars on my hands.
"And what of these?"
"A terrible accident when I was a child."
"What happened?"
I pulled my hands away from her, and looked down at them.
"It's not a dinner table conversation."
"I'd like to hear it."
Why didn't Christine care? Why did she want to torture herself with such horrible stories? I took a sip of my water, trying to stall off as long as possible, but as the moments passed, I knew I wasn't losing her attention.
"When I was a boy, my mother never had any mirrors hanging around the house. I never knew I looked like this until….until I asked her for a mirror. She beat me for asking, but when I wouldn't stop she pulled me to her bedroom; a room I was strictly forbidden to ever enter. It was then, in front of the only mirror she had that she pulled away my mask and called me a demon. I was so frightened by my face, that I smashed the mirror with my hands to make the image go away….."
Her hands embraced mine once again.
"And that's why you wear the gloves?"
I nodded. "No one needs to see my hands, not even you. They have certainly disgusted you just as much as my face."
"No, Erik." she smiled at me. "They are beautiful. Do you know why?"
My hands were beautiful? How could she think that?
"They are beautiful, because they are the exact hands that have drawn out Phantasma, created the most beautiful of operas, they even yearn for the touch of beauty."
I pulled my hands away, and began to load my plate up with very small portions of food. The last thing I wanted was to be up all night vomiting.
"Your hands do not disgust me, not one bit."
What could I say? All I could say was a simple "Thank you" before picking at my meal, and what a delicious meal it was. Christine had made turkey, stuffing, yams, and string beans…everything was so delicious. I ate my small portions slowly, savoring their wonderful taste. My portions were so tiny, that I had finished my meal long before Christine had finished hers.
"Have some more." Christine tried passing me the stuffing, but I waved my hand at her.
"I can't. If I eat anything more, I'll be vomiting all night."
I would have had three more helpings if it wasn't for my weak stomach. Never in my life had I ever had such a feast. Even when I was a child, I was never aloud to eat dinner on holidays with my mother.
"Erik, there's a whole apple pie waiting for you. I do hope you would be able to have a small piece later on."
"Perhaps in a few hours." depending on how I felt…
"I do hope you enjoyed dinner."
I stood up from my seat, and placed my empty plate in the sink.
"Indeed I did. Everything was very delicious, Christine, you really should have been a chef."
She giggled.
"You know singing is my forte, Erik."
"And what a forte it is."
Why had I said that? I'm not supposed to be treating her nice, and yet, I am. She was standing there in the kitchen filling up the sink, ready to do the dishes… I could have just walked away and let her do it, but I couldn't. Why couldn't I just walk away? Why did I feel sorry for this girl? She had cooked, and now was about to do the dishes, but I couldn't let her.
"Christine." I stood behind her like a shy child who was too afraid to ask something of their mother. "I…I that is…I could help you."
Christine giggled, and threw the dish towel towards me.
"Alright then, you dry and I'll wash."
This was so strange. There I was, standing behind Christine as we washed and dried the dishes like a married couple. As I would dry each dish, I couldn't help but keep glancing her way. She was so beautiful, and my body wanted her badly, but I knew better than to continue being so nice to her. I knew this would only lead to heartache.
"I rather enjoyed dinner with you." she handed me a soaking wet pot. "I was thinking that perhaps we could have dinner together all the time? Until I leave in spring that is…"
She wanted to have dinner with me every night? Why would she want to do such a thing? I was a monster, one that didn't deserve such wonderful things.
"What do you think, Erik?"
"I'd rather not."
Curse my heart for denying such a wonderful request! Damn it to hell!
Once we finished cleaning up, I retired to my armchair, and Christine sat at my feet staring into the fire.
"This may sound strange, Erik, but I never enjoyed any holiday as much as I had enjoyed this one."
"How could you enjoy this day? All you did was work."
"Back home, Raoul had chefs and maids doing everything for us around the holidays. I never had to lift a finger…But today, I made us both a Thanksgiving dinner; my first. I enjoyed it much more because I know that I made it. Holidays are supposed to be about spending time with the ones you love, and cooking and cleaning up together make it something irreplaceable."
"I wouldn't know. My mother never let me join in on the holidays."
Christine turned my way.
"So this was your first?"
I embarrassingly nodded, and Christine stood up, pulling me to my feet as well.
"What are you doing?
"Erik, you never celebrated a holiday before. Dinner is fine, but there is more to celebrating a holiday than just dinner."
I stood there in the center of the room, while Christine ran over to my phonograph, and turned it on. A slow piano melody began to play, and she rejoined me.
"What are you doing?" I nervously asked.
She then placed her hands on my shoulders and began to sway.
"Come on, Erik…Dance with me."
How was I to tell her that I never danced with a woman before? Never in all my life had I ever had the chance to dance with a girl…I didn't even know what to do?
"I…I.." my eyes scanned the room as the feeling of her hands on my shoulders sent shivers through my spine.
Christine immediately stopped, and looked up at me.
"Erik, have you not danced before?"
"With a woman? No…"
"Place your hands on my waist."
How my hands trembled as I placed them on Christine. Her slender form quivered beneath my touch, and I couldn't help but think that I was disgusting her.
"Now sway your body."
And there, in the firelight, both Christine and I began to slowly dance; our shadows casting our every move upon the wall behind us. How my body enjoyed her touch so much….
"Tell me, Erik, do you enjoy this?"
"After being alone ten whole years, this moment has made me the happiest man alive."
"Oh, that reminds me."
Christine broke away from our dance and disappeared around the corner, coming back with the turkey wishbone in her hand.
"One of the maids and I used to do this on Christmas all the time…Raoul thought it was foolish, but I'd like to try it with you."
She held and end out to me, and I wrapped my finger around it, as Christine did the same to her end.
"Have you ever done this before?"
I shook my head.
"Well, make a wish, but don't tell me, and then on the count of three pull your end. If your end is bigger than mine, than your wish will come true."
Christine closed her eyes, and I tried to figure our what to wish for. It didn't matter, no matter what I did, I knew any wish I made would never come true. But how I wished for her loving touch…just to feel the warmth of her hands over my cheek would make me the happiest man alive.
"One, two, three…" she counted.
We both pulled, and when the bone broke in half, it was Christine who had the bigger piece.
"I win."
"What did you wish for?" I curiously asked.
"If I tell you, Erik, my wish won't come true. On the other hand, you didn't win, so you could tell me what you wished for."
I couldn't! I wouldn't! if she knew what I wished for, she would surely be disgusted.
I turned away.
"I would prefer not to say."
"Why? Oh, come on, Erik, what did you wish for?"
I felt her grab my shoulder, and turn me to face her again. But as she did so, her hand lovingly moved from my shoulder, up the side of my neck, and to my unscathed cheek. The warmth of her hand rested there as her eyes pleaded me to tell her what I wished for. I had gotten my wish…I had gotten my wish and I didn't even win. I closed my eyes, taking in the wonderful feeling, never wanting it to end. I then lifted my hand, and placed it over the one she had on my cheek, pressing her warmth deeper into my flesh.
"Erik, what did you wish for?"
"I…I wished…"
I was about to tell her that my wish had already come true, but my heart pulled me out of this sure to be head-on-collision and let my anger loose. In a flash I pulled away, and yelled at her like the monster I was.
"Nothing! And don't ever touch me again!"
I ran to my room and cried myself to sleep…My dream had come true, and I didn't even win…my dream, oh, my wonderful dream had come true, and yet, I acted like a complete monster…the monster within me had killed the dream I dreamed…
Ok please, please, please review! This chapter took sometime to think up…Love you all!