Chapter Twenty-Four

Alison slowly began to heal after Patrick's death, mostly thanks to Erik's tender attention and love. Her nightmares occurred less and less and finally she was able to go back to the ballet dormitories with no trouble. She was more and more grateful for what Erik had done to Patrick. Even though she knew that it was wrong, she didn't have to be looking over her shoulder all the time or spend the rest of her life scared of him. She knew without a doubt that he was gone.

She resumed dancing with the opera house and everyone was glad to have her back. Erik would come to practice sometimes, but he would stay where only she could see him or sneak up behind her backstage for a kiss. Her life settled into a quiet rhythm for a month until one day, everything was shattered.

It had been exactly three years since she had arrived at the Opera Populaire. Even now Alison could hardly believe what had happened to her, if she thought about it. She danced with the premier opera house in Paris and was 'going out with' (for lack of a better word) Erik himself. Her life seemed almost too good to be true. She was sure of one thing: that she didn't want to go home.

That day, she ran up to her dormitory in the middle of rehearsal because she had forgotten one of her ballet slippers in her rush to leave in the morning. She grabbed the missing shoe and turned to run out the door, but then stopped when she saw something strange on her bed. Picking it up, her eyes flew wide as she realized what it was.

It was a modern color photograph of her dormitory in college, exactly as it had been when she left it. A wave of homesickness swept over her along with a nostalgic fondness for college. But she was still firm that she didn't want to go home. She went to place the photograph on the bed again, but found that she couldn't move it.

The sight of her fingers sinking into the photograph hit her like a bullet, tearing through her chest with the sinking knowledge of what was going to happen to her.

Her mind went blank with fear. No, no, no, no, no! I don't want to go home! Just let me be! She struggled and pulled, trying to get her fingers out of the photograph and stay in Paris. But it was no good. Her hand continued its inexorable progress, sinking into the photo, pulling her back to her old home, her old life: the present day.

"No!" she screamed. "Erik! Erik, help me!"

Erik heard her screams from inside the passageways in the walls. Fear shot through him and his mind began imagining all kinds of awful scenarios, but none as awful as the truth. He rushed towards the sound of the screams and arrived in the dormitory. He saw Alison and ran to her. "Angelique, what is wrong?"

And then he saw. Saw her arm being sucked into the picture and remembered what she had told him about how she arrived. "No…"

She looked at him, tears starting in her eyes as her arm started to move faster, pulling her into the picture more quickly. "Erik…I love you…"

Erik grabbed wildly at her, trying to stop her, to save her, but it was too late. Their eyes met one last time. Then her entire body was inside and the picture fluttered to the floor.

Erik stood alone in an empty room that had once contained the love of his life.

And Alison tumbled to the floor in her room in college.

For a moment, she didn't move. She lay curled up on the floor, eyes tightly shut. She had a childish impulse that if she didn't move, didn't open her eyes, then maybe it wouldn't be true. Maybe she wouldn't be in college. Maybe it would have never happened. But then the door swung open and her roommate Kylie ran into the room. She stopped when she saw Alison curled up on the floor.

"Alison? Oh my God, Alison! You're back! Where have you been for the last eighteen days?"

Alison pushed herself to her knees, staring at Kylie. There was a terrified, lost look in her eyes.

"No," she whispered. "I'm not back, I can't be back, there's got to be some other explanation, this has to be a dream! I can't be back!"

Kylie frowned. "What's going on, Alison? Why are you speaking random French? I mean, I know you're taking it in school, but still."

Alison jumped to her feet and began searching wildly around for a way out, another photograph, anything that would take her back to 19th century France, where she belonged. But there was nothing. No way out, no way back. Stuck in the present day once again.

"Since you're back, do you know where Patrick is? He disappeared eleven days ago. Was he with you? When is he coming back?"

Alison stopped and looked at Kylie for a moment. "He's not coming back."

Then she continued her search.

"What do you mean, 'he's not coming back'?"

"Figure it out for yourself," Alison spat at her.

She abruptly stopped searching, knowing that there was never going to be anything to find. She slid to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in her hands. Kylie sat next to her, looking concerned.

"Are you all right?"

She looked at Kylie. Kylie started from the haggard despair that shone out from her eyes.

"No, Kylie. I'm not all right. And I might never be all right again."

Erik sank to his knees on the floor of the dormitory, gently picking up the photograph. He stared into it intently, hoping that it would take him too, take him to the strange place where Alison lived. Please, God, if you exist, take me to be with her. I cannot exist without her. Please. I beg you. I will go through the fires of hell itself to get to her. Just allow me to be with her.

He waited, hoping that someone had heard his desperate plea and would catapult him into the world of cars and strange screens and machines that talked. But nothing happened. He was left sitting on the floor, holding a photograph that wouldn't take him anywhere. Alone.

The reality of her absence swept through him. Now there would be no one to hold him and chase away his tears with laughter. No one to be his muse or to kiss him. No one to love him.

And with the reality of his loneliness, he began to cry, curling up on the floor as his shoulders shook with sobs.

In Alison's world, when someone speaks French, it is in italics and English-speakers speak in normal text. In Erik's world, it's the other way around. Hope it's not too confusing. But what are Alison and Erik going to do now that they're apart?