"I hated broken promises
And dishonored pledges: I hate going back on my word.
Disappointment is such an exhausting emotion…
All that energy dissipated first in painful hoping and then
In futile, hopeless resentment."- Excerption from the diary of Erik.
Erik's POV
That whore! That wench! How dare she even have the audacity to open my opera house and turn it into some flap dancing whore house while I'm gone! The thought of this taking place haunted my mind over and over again as I spent the next several days vomiting from my sea sickness and arguing with Christine. It was all too much for my weak heart to handle. What would the papers say? What would I be known as after having my family friendly reputation ruined because of Meg! My park was the only park in Coney Island that didn't have some kind of after hours gentlemen's club…..That had changed now…My park, my wonderful, brilliant park had been raped by Meg! This had made me so sick, that I didn't even want to imagine what would happen once we docked in Coney Island.
For days, I tried to keep to myself, and stash away my horrible thoughts about killing Meg. The press was always all over me on a daily basis, but now that Meg had turned my world into a whore house, who knew what was going to happen. My chest burned with agony, at the thought of her showing off her body, discarding her clothes all over the polished stage I had designed with my own two hands…. Christ! Just to be able to sleep, I shot myself up with small doses of morphine to calm my nerves. Christine tried to numb the pain I was feeling, but even the smallest touch set me off yelling at her. I didn't want to be bothered…Not until that….that whore was taken care of!
For years she's been bothering me about showing off her skin to paying costumers, but I reminded her about my family friendly policy. Why did families bring their children to my park and not any other one on Coney Island? Because my park was one hundred percent smut free…..
Our ship docked on one of the coldest nights I had ever felt on Coney Island. The snow was heavily falling, and the wind cut right though me like a knife. The streets were dead and dark, but from a distance, I could already see the lights my opera house was giving off. My fists curled and tightened just thinking about all of this. I would have marched straight over there, but I wanted to be sure Christine got home ok. I stood there at the bottom of the steps that led to Christine's flat. Mr. Squelch had been kind enough to shovel the snow from them a few days earlier…. He was about the only worker I could trust….He and a few of the other freaks had been keeping the path ways of Phantasma shoveled and clear of any snow.
"Would you like to come in for a while to get warm, Erik?" Christine asked me, dusting some of the newly fallen snow off my shoulders.
She had already sent Eudora into the flat, but I could see her peeking out through the window.
"No, I should be going. I've held off stopping Meg's nonsense long enough."
Before I could say another word, a violent cough erupted from my lugs. I covered my mouth with my gloved hands, only to look down and see droplets of blood….Before Christine could even see this, I lowered my hand and wiped away the droplets on my pants….
"Erik…" Christine gasped my name, rubbing my cold, wet back sympathetically. "You should go home immediately."
"I will… As soon as I throw out the trash in my opera house."
"Promise me."
"I do….Now go inside before you get yourself ill."
I waited until Christine was inside, before waving goodbye to my daughter who was still looking out through the window. I trudged along until I was just feet away from the opera house. I could hear music and the sound of rowdy men coming from inside. As soon as I walked through the doors, my heart ceased within my chest. My once beautiful statues that lined the hallways were covered in streamers and discarded clothes….the floors were plastered in colorful confetti, and my beautiful chandelier had trousers hanging from them…..If there was a time I wanted to pass out on the floor and die…it was now. But no, I wasn't finished….The music was louder now, and I didn't hesitate a single moment on walking down the hall to get to my auditorium.
This sight was even worse than I imagined throughout my trip home. The once beautiful auditorium was shoulder to shoulder with men, clapping and dancing along as women danced completely naked on stage. The men were reaching out to touch them, throwing money on stage, and acting like animals. Not only that, but the atmosphere was a cloud of cigarette smoke! No one! No one smokes in my opera house! Ruined! Everything was ruined! It would take me all winter and even into spring to clean up this mess. On the other side of the room, there was a man serving alcohol! That was the last straw!
I pushed past men, who mind you, were ten times the size of me, muscular and extremely drunk! They pushed me aside like the piece of straw that I was.
"Get out! Everyone get out of here now!" I shouted. But my voice was nothing more than a buried muffle because of how loud the music was. I had to get to the front of the stage. If I got on stage, I'd be able to stop the music and get everyone to leave. I pushed my way through the men, pushing them as hard as I could, but they pushed back, and I landed on the floor, hitting my already injured head on the pavement.
"Christ!" I was furious now. I scrambled to my feet, but the rowdy guys didn't seem to care that I was on the floor and stepped over me as if I were part of the floor…like a rug or something. I had promised Christine not to hurt anyone, but I was the one being hurt. I needed to defend myself, and fast before something else happened. When I finally got to my feet again, I took my walking stick and began whacking it against the men who wouldn't move. I had thought this to be a good idea, and it was working, until I hit a guy I shouldn't have hit. He was three sheets to the wind, and when my walking stick made contact with his back, his fist made contact with my chest.
That blow was like a thousand bullets to my rib cage, one that knocked me to the ground, and wouldn't allow me to get back up. I started coughing again, more droplets of blood coming up through my windpipe.
"You better stay down on the floor!" the man shouted. "Hit me again and see what happens."
As I lay there catching my breath, I saw an opening. I was so close to the stage, and I knew I could make it if I put my mind to it. I slipped through the opening, and used my walking stick to gather to my feet. I was at the stage now, and Meg was discarding her clothes to the audience as the other naked girls, who I recognized as my Phantasma back up dancers danced in the background.
"Who wants to see my blouse go flying!" Meg sang, as the animalistic men shouted and whistled.
No! I couldn't let this happen! I gathered all my strength, and jumped up on stage.
"You will do no such thing!" I shouted.
Meg might not have heard me, but she saw me….And when she did, her face turned to horror. She tried to run to the other end of the stage, but when I tried to chase her, I was grabbed by two large men.
"This one's trying to hurt our star!"
I was pulled off stage, and thrown across the bar, glass shattering against my cloaked back.
"Stop!" I heard Meg's voice shouting this out, but the beating didn't.
"No one comes into this club and hurts our dancers!"
"This is my opera house!"
I wasn't going to give up! How dare they!
"Unleash me before I call the authorities!" I shouted.
I waved my fists, and kicked my braced legs.
I was thrown down off the bar, an empty wine bottle shattering over my lower back. I felt the glass pierce through my skin, causing me to roll over in hopes of relieving the pain. When I thought the abuse was ending, it only worsened. The men started kicking me with their shoes and boots. I pleaded them to stop, but they could hear me because of how loud the music was.
"You don't come in here and disturb the peace you drunkard!"
"Stop!"
I heard Meg's voice again, and could see her tearing away at the men who were kicking me. But before she could get to me, I was grabbed again, and thrown across the piano….When this happened, the music instantly stopped, with just the occasional shriek from the naked dancers on stage. I was laying there on stage, my body bloodied and slowly dying. The room had fallen silent…why? Why wasn't anyone grabbing me again? I lifted my head the best I could to look at my body, only to see that I had the broken leg of a chair sticking out of my right side…It was covered in my blood, and I was sure….this would be the end of me…My head plopped down against the stage, and the lights were dimming fast…..When I closed my eyes, I slipped away…
I was wandering around a gypsy camp….everything was so familiar to me, the colorful tents, the dancing gypsies, the smell of campfire smoke…Everything came rushing back to me. I knew this place, I grew up in this place. But why was I free? Why was I not in my cage? Then I saw her…..it was Christine…she was a child, no older than me. She was dressed in a red gypsy gown that came down to her ankles. She was standing in bare feet, tapping them to the music being made by men playing their tambourines and small fiddles. When her eyes met with my own, she starting circling the fire….I knew this tradition….this wonderful sexual tradition, one that I myself never participated in. For years I would watch young gypsy girls dance around the fire as virgin boys would join them, and pick a mate. They were matched by music, dance and fire. But now I was being lured by her…..She danced around the fire, her eyes never leaving my own. How badly I wanted to approach the fire, but I knew if I did, I would be thrown back into my cage.
Round and round she danced, her dress flaring around her like a ring of red fire. Her eyes filled with want….want for me. I looked beside me to make sure she wasn't staring at anyone else, and she wasn't…it was just me. Soon, every other gypsy besides her faded away, leaving only her and the ring of fire. I could still hear the music, and stepped closer and closer to her. When I was feet from her, she started to slowly move around the fire once more…This was the start of the tradition….I knew what to do, and I paused, afraid this was all just a dream. But Christine wouldn't back down. She circled past me, her eyes trying to hypnotize me to do the same. Were we really meant to be together? Gypsies were matched by their dance, and if a couple moved in sync with one another, they would move in sync together for the remainder of their lives. It was time to see if we really were a match. I slowly moved with her around the fire as our eyes never left contact with the others. Her hips shook, and so did my own. How badly I wanted to grind my hips up against her own, but that was still pending. Round and round we circled the fire, our dance turning hotter and hotter as the moments passed. Round one was over, for she was now close to my body. We had passed the first stage, and on to round two. Her hands lifted themselves into the air, and I did the same, our hands dancing with each other's. I took her small hand with my own, and lead her around the fire as the music continued.
We were now onto the final round. Her hips pushed against my own, as our hands roamed around one another's bodies. I had never been touched by sweeter hands….We were still dancing, and now her hands were on my mask…..This was the final part…..She tore away my mask, and I had expected her to scream, but she didn't, she smiled seductively, and kissed my lips with her own. We were matched….
The music slowly faded away, with the image of only Christine pulling me into her tent. I was wearing nothing but a dirty pair of trousers, and her hands instantly went for them. This is what happened after gypsies were matched. They would lead each other into their tents and make love for the first time. I always dreamed about doing such a thing, and now….for some strange and unknown reason, this was happening to me. Christine was on top of me now…unbuttoning her dress…..But it was fading…everything was fading away….
There were bright lights…I could see them getting brighter as the moments passed. All I could see were bright lights, but heard the sound of people shushing around me, speaking terms I had never heard before. When I opened my eyes, there was nothing but white….I saw white drapes all around me…..and five people dressed in white….four women and a man….There were needles in my arms, and the people touching every part of my body, disrobing me of my bloody clothes…. I had been dreaming, but the wonderful vision of what my dream had been about continued to plague my mind like a disease…As I lay there in pain, I thought about Christine….her body on my own, her hands running up and down my body as I groaned. I wanted her, I wanted her so badly that my mind wouldn't allow me to think of anything but her. If I survived through this, I would have her again….
"Ch…Christine….." that was the only word I could get out. My weak eyes searched desperately for her, but I couldn't spot any sight of my angel. When I felt cold hands touching my bare flesh, I jolted up from what ever I was laying on.
Ch..Christine…" I was louder this time, and seconds later the man was hovering over me.
"Mister E, you have to keep still…"
I knew this man….he was my doctor. Then everything came rushing back to me, the opera house, Meg, the naked dancers, and….I lifted my eyes to see of this were still real- and it was, the chair leg was still sticking out of me.
I plopped my head back against the table, and tried to stay calm. Where was Christine? Where was my daughter….And where was that whore Meg!
"Mister E, breathe…." the doctor instructed.
"Ch…" I couldn't even say her name any longer. I was fading fast once more…
"Stay with me….someone has contacted your friend."
I felt a terrible cough erupting in the throat, and this time, the droplets of blood landed on the corner of my mouth. I felt the doctor place his stethoscope over my rib cage, listening to the illness within my lungs.
"Mister E, your lungs are filled with mucus…."
I wasn't listening to him….I couldn't listen to anything other than the slow beating of my heart.
"Ch…Christine…" that's all I wanted. I would have fought the doctors but I didn't have the strength to lift my hand from my side.
"Erik!"
I knew that sound….that voice…it was Christine's….she was calling out my name.
"Ch…Ch…."
I tried to call her name too, but the fluid in my windpipe only made me choke.
Suddenly, the drapes were pulled back, and Christine came rushing to me. Her cold hands caressed my face, as the tears in her eyes soaked her cheeks.
"Erik….stay with me, please….." she cried. "Don't leave me…."
My eyes left her, and lowered themselves to the horror that was below my chest. When Christine saw this, her cries only came faster.
"N…No….." she couldn't believe what was happening to me.
"Miss Christine…" the doctor was trying to pull her away from me. I didn't want her to leave my side….If I was going to die, I wanted to have her be the last thing I ever see.
"Miss Christine, we have to operate on Mister E….."
"Let me stay…" she pleaded. "Let me stay with him."
"We can't let you….go now…"
She broke away from the doctor, and caressed my face once more.
"Listen to me, Erik….fight…I know you can do this, fight for me…."
And with that, she pressed her lips feverishly to my own, and left my side. I could feel her tears stained on my lips, and taste their saltiness. It was then that I felt another prick in my forearm, and hot liquid instantly warm my body….I slipped away, dreaming that I would wake in a better place.
That better place being a world where Christine and I could walk among men without me fearing the world, for my face would be flawless and handsome. The warm sunlight warming my skin as we walked anywhere our heart desired.
But my horrors were just beginning. I thought when I would wake, my body would feel ten times better, when in reality, it felt ten times worse. I was having a harder time breathing than I was when I passed out after Christine left. It was as if there was an elephant sitting on my chest, pressing my lugs so tightly together that I couldn't squeeze an ounce of fresh air into them. I was fighting just to keep breathing, and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears. My heart beat didn't sound normal either…it was slow beating as if I had ran a million miles. So fast that it would stop at any given moment….But this wasn't all…no, there was a searing pain taking over every part of my waist. When I looked down, the chair leg was no longer there, and was replaced with a large gauze wrapped bandage.
My angel was also here…she was sitting in a chair next to my bedside. She was crying…never had I seen her crying so hard over me.
"Ch..Ch…" I was cut off by the most violent cough yet, making it ten times harder to breathe. I couldn't catch my breath….I coughed again, only causing my chest to tighten even more.
When Christine heard my struggle, she lifted her tear soaked face from her hands, and lifted my head up to help me breathe easier.
"Fight Erik…." she told me. "Please…."
I was so weak, but I wasn't about to give up on life. I pushed and pushed until I got the air I needed in my body. What was wrong with me? When Christine placed my head gently back down on my pillow, she adjusted the blankets over my bruised body. I had never seen my body so black and blue….Perhaps I was going to die.
"Erik, can you hear me?"
I opened my mouth, but Christine stopped me from talking.
"Don't talk, Erik. You need to save your strength." she cried. "The…the doctor says you're not out of the woods….not at all."
I looked around at all the needles and things hooked to me.
"Y…You need another operation." my angel sobbed. "Y..You're bleeding from…the inside." she couldn't even finish her sentence she was so upset.
"An…and the doctor said you have a serious case of pneumonia. He…he says you're…you're going to die…."
My angel broke down, sobbing over my bed. I refused to die…I wouldn't do it….Only if Christine wanted me to die would I ever do such a thing.
I gathered all the strength within me to lift my hand, and place it over her cheek. Her teary eyes looked into my own, and in my eyes I was showing her that I was not going to give up. But I could only hold my hand on her cheek for a few seconds…I was weak, and my hand began slipping down her neck. She grabbed it, and placed it back over her cheek, holding it there for me.
"I…I won't give up on you, Erik."
I knew she wouldn't.
When I began to cough again, Christine was there to wipe my mouth, and keep me calm. I was so tired, so tired, but I couldn't breathe. I soon passed out, and found myself dreaming again…dreaming about Christine and our life together. I only hoped that life would one day be able to be lived….For if I died I knew I'd be leaving Christine with more responsibility than just raising our daughter…
Ok everyone, please review! I work extra hard on these chapter…..Please send in your thoughts…Love you all!