Erik's POV

Early the following morning, I found myself standing in the kitchen making tea. All throughout the night I couldn't sleep, therefore, I rolled out of bed and decided to make some tea. The sun had yet to come up, making my kitchen extra dark. I could see in the dark, for over the years my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. A few moments later, I heard footsteps, only to have the lights come on, causing the brightness to blind me. I covered my eyes and spun around, the sound of Christine gasping being the next thing I heard.

"Oh, Erik, I didn't know you were in here."

"I'm sorry if I frightened you, Christine…I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither…"

There was a long pause of silence, and then, Christine's voice again.

"Erik, do you think we're ever going to be all right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've been thinking about you lately before I go to sleep. And when I think about you, it worries me…"

"What is it that worries you, Christine?"

"You hardly sleep… Some nights I wake and hear you pacing back and forth up in your room. Why is it that you have sleeping problems, Erik? It wouldn't matter what time of the night I wake, for whatever the time, you're always up. Even on the nights that I slept by your side, you were awake. You try to seem as though you're sleeping, but you never really are."

I poured Christine and me a cup of tea and took a seat at the table with her.

"Christine, there are some things in my life that are better left unsaid. I have sleeping problems, I will admit to that, but the reason being is something I would rather keep to myself."

"Why? You trust me, Erik… Perhaps there is something I could do to help you?"

I tried to smile, but that smile only made it half way. "I assure you, Christine, there are no ways of helping me. You…You wouldn't understand."

Her hand came across the table and covered my own, that warmth sending a wonderful feeling through my chest. Oh, to be touched by a woman on her own free will…It was something wonderful. Sometimes back in Paris, Christine would ask me questions about myself, but I never really answered her, for I believed it to be nothing more than pity. But now, as I looked at the woman, I saw into her heart and knew that she was truly interested in the reason why I had sleeping problems. But I had never told anyone what I was about to tell Christine. There wasn't a living soul upon this earth that knew what I knew…I never told anyone before, because no one had ever asked. Not only that, but the demons inside of me were too painful to speak about.

"I've mentioned to you before that my mother was not the kindest mother in the world," I began. "I…I never really know what became of her after I fled…"

"You ran away from home?" she questioned.

I nodded. "Yes, at the age of seven. I…I was not welcome any longer, and my mother had found a lover. You see, Christine, I never knew my father because he died in a terrible work accident before I was born. It had always been just my mother and I and when she met a man, her eyes lit up as though her life had finally been completed."

A few tears ran down Christine's cheek, but I tried to ignore them. Crying…to think that a woman would cry over my stories.

"She never did love me…She tolerated me at most times. I mean, for my birthday one year, I had begged her for two kisses…one for now and one to save. She struck me in the face and warned me to never ask of that again. But when she met that man of hers, I saw them kiss one another almost every second that they were together. I…I had always wondered what it would feel like to be kissed. One night, I even snuck out of my attic bedroom and found them making love to one another…It…It made me jealous. So, one evening after the neighborhood children had tortured me, I overheard the man ordering my mother to send me to an institution, otherwise he would never marry her. Well, you could imagine my anxiety after hearing that. I fled from the house that night and never looked back."

"And that's why you have sleeping problems?"

"Oh, heavens no…" I continued. "That is only the beginning, Christine. That evening after running away from home, I was caught by a band of gypsies. As soon as they saw what I was, I was forced into a wooden cage on wheels and shown off around Europe as their main attraction. My arms were bound behind my back and I was forced to sit maskless in front of thousands of paying customers. They threw things at me and poked me with sticks. Horrible…And at the end of every night, I was whipped by my master."

"That's…That's where the scars came from?"

I nodded. "Sixty percent of them, Christine. The other forty percent came from other injuries. But, to make this long story short, the reason why I have sleeping problems isn't because I was whipped or because of my mother…No, it's because of what happened on my ninth Christmas…."

"What happened?"

I pressed my eyes closed and tried to push the horrible memory out of mind, but it was no use.

"As I have said before, I had a master, one who beat me every night. Though, on my ninth Christmas, he took me out of my cage and dragged me into the woods. My master was a large man with a long, greasy beard… He…He had been drinking. Well, once he and I were alone in the woods, he pushed me into the snow and forced himself upon me…He…He tore off my clothes and…"

I stopped, for my heart was racing a mile a minute.

"He took off his clothes and had his way with me…"

Christine flew up from her seat and embraced my body, pressing me so close to her own.

"Erik…God, I had no idea that something so horrible had happened to you."

"Every night after that night for the next four years, the man abused me like that. He made me do things to him, and he did the same to me… When I cried and begged him to stop, he would cut me with his knife. If I didn't do what he wanted, or displeased him in anyway, he would whip me until my flesh bled. I don't like to complain, but I still can't walk right because of it…I…I never recovered, Christine. Every night I try to fall asleep, but I always see him in my dreams…I hear my boyish voice pleading for him to stop…I feel the pain that I once felt. Therefore, I refuse to sleep, only taking small cat naps to keep me going."

"He can't harm you anymore, Erik…He's never coming back for you…"

"I know this, Christine, but I can't…"

I rose from my seat and emptied out my glass.

"I do hope this story stays between you and me…I've never told anyone that before."

"I promise…"

"I…I'm going to go upstairs and try to sleep, Christine. I shall see you later on."

After I was in my room, I closed the door and crawled beneath the blankets of my bed. I didn't even have my eyes closed five seconds, when I felt someone's presence. Though, after opening my eyes, I gasped, for there was someone else in bed with me. But after removing the blankets, I realized that it was only Gustave. Oh, what did he want?

"Gustave, it's early," I groaned, pressing my distorted face into my pillow. "Go back to your own room."

"I can't, Mr. Erik…" he somberly replied. "You were sad downstairs and I know that you're still sad now."

"I am not sad," I assured. "And you really need to stop your eavesdropping. It's a very rude habit that you have."

"I couldn't help it, Mr. Erik. I came out into the kitchen for a drink, but you were talking to mama…I heard you say that you were trapped by gypsies and that they did horrible things to you. That's why you got those scars all over you…"

"Yes, that would be correct…"

"But…But there's something that I don't understand, Mr. Erik."

"And what would that be?"

"You told mama that you don't have trouble sleeping because of the whippings, but because of what happened to you at Christmas."

"Right…"

"What did happen at Christmas?"

"Gustave, I'm not going to sit here and repeat an adult conversation to a child, no matter how close I am to you. Besides, if you were listening, you would have heard it."

"I did, but…" the child swallowed hard. "What are those things that you spoke of?"

"What things?"

"Well, you said that your master took off your clothes and he took off his. Does that mean that you and him took a shower together? That would give me nightmares, especially from how cold it had to be… I'm surprised that you didn't freeze to death."

"Gustave," I sat up and ran my fingers through my scalp. Oh, I was not about to explain these things to a five year old. No, he was a child and he needed to stay innocent.

"Gustave, there are things in this world that you wouldn't understand, and shouldn't understand at such a young age. But I will tell you that my master and I were not taking a shower with one another. One day, when you're old enough, you'll understand the situation."

"How?"

"You'll just know."

"Please tell me, Mr. Erik…"

"Gustave," I pressed my eyes closed, not being too interested in telling this to the boy. "Gustave, when you're thirteen, your body is going to start to change."

"How?"

"Well, you'll start to have hair growing on your face…"

"And how come you don't? You never shave, Mr. Erik…"

"I…Um…I never got hair, Gustave. That is another deformity that God gave me."

"Well, at least you never have to cut yourself…"

I chuckled. "Yes, you're right… Anyway, your body is going to change from being a boy into a man and along with facial hair, you'll be yearning for girls…"

"Girls are icky…Well, besides mama, I mean."

"Oh, you say that now, but later in life when you're around my age, you'll find them essential. It's natural for a man to fall in love with a woman and then marry her…and…um…make love to her."

"What's that?"

Oh, now I was in deep trouble. I should have stopped the conversation long ago, but now I had the boy's attention and unfortunately, his interest.

"It's when a man and woman strip off all their clothes and touch each other's bodies…It's how you show someone that you love them. But the reason I'm telling you this, is because what a man does to a woman is exactly what my master did to me…And that's not right in this world. A man isn't supposed to do those things to another man, let alone a child…."

I expected the boy to continue asking questions, but instead, he laid down beside me.

"Mr. Erik, if I was a pirate, I would have saved you from that man. I'm sorry that he hurt you like he did…"

I ruffled the boy's locks. "It's all right, Gustave. The past is in the past now…"

"Mr. Erik, do you love mama?"

"In some aspect, I do…She and I have been friends for many years, way before you were born. So, in a sense, I have admired her for a very long time."

"So, do you and mama make love?"

"Gustave, enough about this…. If your mother ever found out that I explained such a thing to you, she'll have my head. Now, you need to promise me that you'll never bring this up again, do you understand?"

He nodded. "All right, Mr. Erik, I promise…"

"Good, now run along and play while I rest. Tomorrow is a big day and if you behave, like promised, I'll bring you to the auditions."

"Mr. Erik, mama really does love you… She prays to grandfather every night and tells him that she loves you."

"She prays to her father about me?"

Gustave nodded. "I can hear her from my room. She thinks I'm sleeping, but really, I'm just laying there. She prays to him every night. Sometimes, she prays and thanks her father for sending her the angel of music. Other times, she asks him to look over you and give you guidance….The other night, she prayed to him and told her father that she loves you and only you and that she was foolish for not seeing your soul sooner. She said that if she would have loved you years ago, that her life wouldn't have been so painful. She prayed that you would feel the same way someday."

When Gustave was gone, I could only lay there stunned. Christine loved me? And she begged her father to have me feel the same way? Like usual, I worked that day and that evening, long after everyone was most likely in bed, I pulled on my robe and headed downstairs. Outside of Christine's room, I stood in the doorway, watching her as she knelt down on her knees and folded her hands like praying people did.

"Papa, tonight I pray that you watch over Erik…He told me some horrible things today, horrible and evil things. How could someone be born into this world, only to be hated and abused? I wanted him to love me so much that I feel as though the world has done him too much hard to have him ever feel love for anyone. He and I have become close, but he still keeps his distance from me, as if I would turn my back at any given second…Please, send him the answers he needs to continue living…Help him sleep and keep the nightmares at bay…Amen…"

When she was finished praying, I lightly knocked on her door, causing her to immediately gather to her feet.

"Erik…"

"I…I heard your prayer…"

She nodded and looked down at her feet. Though, without asking, I entered her room and closed the door behind me.

"Do you pray for me often?"

Christine looked up at me and hesitantly nodded. Though, I didn't hesitate a single moment and lightly grabbed hold of her shoulders.

"No one has ever prayed for me before…That, Christine, is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me…"

And then, I pressed my lips against her own with a need to urgent to deny…I wasn't sure if she wanted it or not, but the moment I felt her lips against the scars on my neck, and her voice lightly groaning from such pleasure, I knew there was no need to ask…or to stop.

How Awkward for Erik...Haha! Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please review.