A/N - Now, do you really think that Christine left the Opera unaffected? Of course not. Just think of how poor Christine feels. More book based, than musical.
Shattered
For a long time she refused to look at mirrors.
She averted her eyes every time she passed one. Whispers and sighs would swirl in the air around her, making her hurry her pace. She was afraid that if she looked into a mirror, he would be there to take her away. She knew it was a foolish thought, but she couldn't help but be afraid.
He frightened her.
He had always frightened her. Everything about him did. From the coffin he slept in to his horrid death's head. Even his maniacal genius had unsettled her. For months his burning amber eyes plagued her dreams. Often she would wake in a cold sweat, at a loss of breath. Nothing could calm her, let alone convince her that she had truly escaped from him.
She never went outside alone after dusk. She had only ever seen him in the dark and sometimes she still heard his dark laments in the silence of the night. And if she did go anywhere, she took an oil lamp in place of a candle.
Everything reminded her of him. She couldn't bring herself to sing anymore. The chiming of bells made her flinch. She couldn't look at a lake without turning away uneasily. Even the dark hallways of Raoul's house made her nervous.
She thought he was everywhere. She almost couldn't attend Philippe's funeral for fear that he would be there taunting her, threatening to steal her away. She knew then that Erik had broken her.
Everyone thought she was crazy. She was asked to go see a doctor, but she adamantly refused. She knew her malady just as she knew its remedy. But somehow she knew the remedy would never work.
Fragments of shattered glass are not meant to fit back together.
For a long time she refused to look at mirrors.
She averted her eyes every time she passed one. Whispers and sighs would swirl in the air around her, making her hurry her pace. She was afraid that if she looked into a mirror, he would be there to take her away. She knew it was a foolish thought, but she couldn't help but be afraid.
He frightened her.
He had always frightened her. Everything about him did. From the coffin he slept in to his horrid death's head. Even his maniacal genius had unsettled her. For months his burning amber eyes plagued her dreams. Often she would wake in a cold sweat, at a loss of breath. Nothing could calm her, let alone convince her that she had truly escaped from him.
She never went outside alone after dusk. She had only ever seen him in the dark and sometimes she still heard his dark laments in the silence of the night. And if she did go anywhere, she took an oil lamp in place of a candle.
Everything reminded her of him. She couldn't bring herself to sing anymore. The chiming of bells made her flinch. She couldn't look at a lake without turning away uneasily. Even the dark hallways of Raoul's house made her nervous.
She thought he was everywhere. She almost couldn't attend Philippe's funeral for fear that he would be there taunting her, threatening to steal her away. She knew then that Erik had broken her.
Everyone thought she was crazy. She was asked to go see a doctor, but she adamantly refused. She knew her malady just as she knew its remedy. But somehow she knew the remedy would never work.
Fragments of shattered glass are not meant to fit back together.