Christine dans Deux

An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story

Nyasia A. Maire

© 2006

SUMMARY: One soul. Two bodies. One soul torn in two. One man. One woman. Separated by time. United by love. Christine Maire watches The Phantom of the Opera with her daughter. Why does the Phantom's pain feel as if it is her pain? Her loneliness? One night she discovers the reason why... (Movie Based, EC, Mature Material contained in some chapters …)
DISCLAIMER: I make no claim of ownership in regards to ANY and ALL author's fictional character (i.e. Gaston Leroux's Erik, Christine, Raoul, etc.). Furthermore, I make no claim of being the author of any poetry or lyrics reproduced herein. Some characters portrayed herein are based on actual historical persons--however, I have taken artistic license with personality traits and appearances as a plot device. All other characters are of my own creation. Unless otherwise noted, all historical events in the tale are either factual, actual or based on true events.
Chapter One - Prologue: Whispers

She sits in loneliness. Surrounded by emptiness. What is this hollow pain in her breast? Why does she spill silent tears into her pillow in the dark? When will she catch her breath? What is the pain that nibbles away at her soul? She longs for . . . something . . . in quiet despair. Her life one of utter solitude, denial and regret.

Leaves begin to skip along the gutter.

"When did you stop listening to my voice? Why did you stop believing?"

There are no happily-ever-after endings, just another tomorrow. Happy endings are lies told in fairy tales as the comforting end of a tale for sleepy children, a convenient device to end a story. She is a child no longer. Happily-ever-after endings are the step-children of Pandora's greatest plague . . . hope.

"Why do you not believe? Is this to be yet another lifetime spent in yearning and searching in vain?"

"Mom?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why do you like to watch this movie so much?"

"I don't know."

The wind begins to whisper.

"Yes, you do!"

"Mom, you watch it all the time. Why?"

Silence, but for the shrieking voice of a coloratura soprano.

"Mom."

"I'm thinking!"

And still, there is silence. My soul seeks.

"Mom."

The silence stretches and takes form. The unspoken answer draws a weak, gasping breath and is born. And still, the shrieking voice of a coloratura soprano continues.

"Oh! Come on! I don't know."

As the wind caresses the branches of trees, the whispers take flight.

"Yes, you do! Speak the words! Only you have the power to heal! Only you have the strength to leap the chasm of sorrow and bring an end to the waking nightmare!"

"MOM!"

"Do you want an answer? Or do you want the truth?"

"THE TRUTH, DAMMIT!"

"Uh, the truth."

"Hmmm. Fine! You want an answer?"

"Uh huh."

"YES!"

"Well, even though I know it could never happen because, after all, it is only a movie, every time I watch it part of me wishes or hopes HE will get the girl this time. That he won't have to be alone any more. There is something about him. So, familiar."

"OH, YES!!!"

"Look! Goose bumps! I miss him."

"What did you say?"

"SPEAK!"

The woman stares at the goose bumps on her arms for a moment her misty eyes travel far away. She sighs.

"I miss him."

"Oh, you mean dad? You miss dad?"

"SPEAK!!!"

She blinks and her eyes clear and return to focus on her worried daughter's face. She lies.

"That's right. I miss dad."

A pair of sighs.

"Mom?"

"Yes."

"She's really stupid for not picking him, isn't she?"

"No, not stupid. She's just a foolish child."

"Foolish? Why?"

"She loves them both, but doesn't have the strength to choose for herself. She let them decide for her. She took the path of least resistance. She accepted the conventions of society. She wasn't strong enough to risk herself and journey along the road less traveled."

"I don't understand what you are saying, but I love you anyway, Mom!"

"I know. I don't understand it myself. Oh, I love you, too, Baby!"

"Is it okay if I go play in my room now? All my homework is done."

"Okay."

Silence again and she glances at the clock.

Another sigh. A single sigh.

Suddenly, the wind whips around the house. The whispers begin to grow.

"SPEAK THE WORDS!"

"Bedtime in 25 minutes, okay?"

"Mom!"

"No arguments, 25 minutes!"

"Okay."

The child's grumbling voice fades into the darkness.

The wind howls and the whispers whistle shrilly in the night.

"SPEAK THE WORDS, WOMAN!!!"

The woman stares at the television screen, which holds the image of a man's outstretched hand clad in a black leather glove. The small woman's gaze is held transfixed by the man's hand. She visibly trembles and is suddenly still. Her eyes roll up, leaving only the whites of her eyes visible. She once again slips to the land of long ago, a place far away. The kingdom of Nod. She throws her head back; her arms lift heavenward in supplication. She whispers words unknown to this incarnation, but the whispers live, breathe and burn through their soul.

The wind joins with the whispering voice of the woman. Wind and woman unite in quiet duet.

"Aucune imbécile n'est elle. Juste un enfant. Un enfant innocent. Perdu et seulement. Aspirer à conseils. Elle n'est pas celle. Pas celui dans deux. Pas le femme-enfant. Elle est le chemin, qui mène à notre âme. Trop long nous avoir vous a attendu pour me trouver. Nous pouvons n'attendre plus! Erik! Vous êtes appelés! Une âme! Esprit à l'esprit! Coeur au coeur! Amour à l'amour! Lumière à l'obscurité! Asunder déchiré par âme! Est maintenant l'heure de guérir! Maintenant une âme doit réparer!"

("No fool is she. Just a child. An innocent child. Lost and alone. Yearning for guidance. She is not the one. Not the one in twos. Not the woman-child. She is the path, which leads to our soul. Too long have we waited for you to find me. We can wait no longer! Erik! You are summoned! One Soul! Mind to mind! Heart to heart! Love to love! Light to dark! Soul torn asunder! Now is the time to heal! Now one soul must mend!")