9Just a short little phic I wrote while I was sick. I don't know if it's any good.
It had been five years since that fateful night at the Opera Populaire. Since then, my life had changed dramatically. I had become a wife and Vicomtess, as well as a mother. I lived on a beautiful estate just outside of Paris, as well as several vacation homes, which were just as beautiful. I had the finest of everything and I frequently rubbed elbows with the finest in society. It was the life that every chorus girl dreamed of but not a day went by without a thought of my former life in the opera house.
It was a sunny day in London and the market was crowded. I had decided to take a brief, unaccompanied holiday to our home in England. I wasn't surprised when I arrived that there was no food so I had to run to the crowded market to pick up a few things.
Despite the crowds, I found myself lost in my thoughts until I ran right into a tall man, causing us both to drop the contents of our arms.
"Oh, please excuse me, monsieur. I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you. I'm so sorry."
At the same time, we both crouched down to pick up the fallen objects. I looked at the man through the corner of my eye and all I saw was the glint of a white mask.
"Oh my god, Angel…is that you?"
"Christine?"
I covered my gaping mouth with my hand.
"I can't believe it's you. I-I thought that you were…"
"Dead?"
I swallowed hard and nodded.
"How…I mean what happened after I left?"
He shook his head, and then stood up to leave. I quickly grabbed his shoulder.
"Please don't leave. It's been too long since I've seen a familiar face. Let's take a walk and catch up. Please…mon ange de la musique."
He sighed heavily then nodded.
"Please do not call me that. I am not an angel. We are both aware of that."
"My name is Erik."
I nodded and quietly repeated it.
"Let's go. It's been too long, Erik."
I looped my arm through his and pulled him along with me.
I found myself back at my house and inviting him in for tea. He began to decline my invitation, but I insisted.
After a few minutes, we were in the parlor. I was serving the tea and Erik was walking around looking at pictures on the mantle. Finally, he picked up a picture of me with my daughter.
"So you are a mother?"
I nodded.
"My little Angelina."
"She's beautiful, just like her mother. Where is she? I would love to meet her."
I bit my lower lip and stifled back a sob.
"We had to bury her last month."
Erik looked at my apologetically.
"I'm so sorry, Christine. That must've been horrible."
I ran my hand through my hair.
"Horrible doesn't even begin to cover it, Erik. She was only three years old. She was terrified of being alone in the dark and I had to leave her alone in that cold, dark box in the ground. I went to wake her up one morning and she wouldn't wake up. The doctors don't know what happened to her. There's no explanation for it. Three-year-old children aren't supposed to die for no reason. It's not fair, Erik. I would've taken her place in an instant."
I sank down to the ground and buried my face in my skirt. I couldn't stop myself from crying. This was the first time that I had truly mourned the death of my child.
"I want to be with her, Erik. I want to be with her so bad it hurts. Nobody understands my pain. Raoul has been drunk nearly every night since then. The night we buried her he wanted to start trying for another baby. I told him no, I wasn't emotionally ready and that he was too drunk to know what he was saying…then he…forced himself on me. He doesn't remember it and I've been trying to forget it but I can't. Every time I see him, I want to kill him. That's why I'm here. To get away from everything."
Erik came and sat down by me.
"If I would've known, Christine, I would've killed him for you."
He reassuringly put his hand on top of mine but it wasn't enough. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my tear-stained face in his shoulder. He awkwardly put his arms around me in return, and then stood up, taking me with him. He stroked my hair and whispered comforting words in my ear.
"Erik…why'd you do this to me? If you loved me, why did you do this to me?"
He looked at me strangely.
"What do you mean?"
I inhaled deeply.
"This. Why did you make me leave you that night? I made my choice and that was to stay with you. I loved you, Erik, god I loved you. You were my Angel of Music, my teacher. When I kissed you…that was the first time in months that I had been thinking clearly. I realized what I fool I had been and how much I loved you. But then you told me to go and you shattered my dreams. My dreams of us together for the rest of eternity. Leaving you was the hardest thing that I'd ever had to do until I had to leave my daughter alone. I wanted to come back and I did for a moment, but I didn't think that you wanted me."
"Do you think that it was easy for me to let you go? Why didn't you object to me? Do you think that I was thinking clearly? No, I wasn't. You could've spoken up, told me that was what you wanted."
"Angel, I hear, you speak, I listen. Don't you remember?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry, Christine. I'm sorry that I ruined your life. I just thought that I was doing what was best for you. I wanted you to be happy but now I know that I was wrong."
"I was happy.. I was living in high society. I rubbed elbows with the crème de la crème, I was married to a handsome Vicomte and I had a beautiful daughter. Then my world was shattered. That fateful morning when Angelina wouldn't wake up. That was the morning that I realized that I was fooling myself. That was the morning I realized how much I missed my old friends, how much I missed the stage, but most importantly, how much I missed you. My life is a lie. I pretend to be in love with Raoul, but I am truly, madly, deeply in love with…you."
I looked up and saw tears forming in his eyes.
"Christine, I love you."
Wow, it's kind of long now that I look at it. Anyway R&R and tell me if I should expand upon it. Maybe an epilogue, maybe not...? Tell me.