Christine grabbed her cloak and looked back at Raoul. He would wake later and find himself alone. Christine loved him... But not the way he loved her. By being with him she was just holding onto the past. Onto her father. He looked so peaceful just lying there. She hated to do this to him, but she couldn't live a lie any longer. Christine's eyes brimmed with tears as she shut the door, and hurried down the hallway quietly. She descended the twisting marble staircase with grace. Christine opened the huge wooden oak front door, and gave one last look back at her former home. She turned away from it, as it was giving her much emotional pain. She darted onto the landscape and took a moments pause to compose herself. The attempt failed quite miserably.
Tears ran like streams out of her eyes. Her expression was devestated, and she was shaking all over. Her thoughs raced to her father, then the Victome, and she only cried more. Sure, she loved the Victome, but like a guidance, as a friend or brother. Not as a lover. That would be- No. She wouldn't think of him.
She ran to the stables, and harnessed her horse. Red, she had named him, short for Red Death, but to everyone else but her, he was Deea (Dee-uh). His name was Red Death because of Erik. Erik had come to the Masquerade ball as the Red Death. Oh, how she longed to see him! But she couldn't give in to the darkness. Or to her desire. No, she'd be strong. For her own sake. She would return, yes, but not right away. First, there was something she needed to do. Somewhere she needed to go, rather. Red cooperated, standing still as she hopped onto his back. He gave her a look of pity, and obeyed her command to go.
"Oh, Red, if you only knew..." she said, sorrowfully and quietly, on the brink of tears. She was in no fit state to ride, or steer, but Red knew the way. They were going to the graveyard. Nevwer a day had she dreamed of leaving Raoul, but there was that horrid nightmare. And that wretched song that kept playing in her head!
In her dream she was wandering through the labyrinth for her scarf. The one Raoul had saved those many years ago. He materialized out of thin air, and gave it to her. But he quickly turned into the Phantom, who sang that WRECHED song, over and over again. It haunted her even while she was awake. He then lead her to his lair where he again showed her the manakin of herself in a wedding dress. She fainted, and he carried her to his bed, where he sat her down carefully. The bed was huge, like the one she and Raoul shared. But At the Chagny manor, the bed was uncomortable, and she felt that everything was troublesome. But there, in her dream, it was if she was floating on a cloud, leaving all her troubles behind.
Oh! And that song! That song was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard. But only if HE sang it. It wasnt the song that haunted her... No, it was Erik's voice.
She gripped her legs tighter against Red, grabbed handfuls of msne, and closed her eyes. When she closed her eyes, she could feel him, almost HEAR him. She wished, she longed...but she held back. Something kept her from breaking in to the Opera, and decending to his lair. Perhaps it was common sense? Or the fact that she had given up hope that he still loved her. What if, after all these years, he had forgotton about her? It pained her to think about it.
It was time for a visit to Mme. Giry, but after the graveyard, and just at dawns break. She needed to see her before Raoul ((THE FOP! hee hee... cant put it in the story, so humor goes in parentheses)) did.
When they finally reached the graveyard, she dismounted, and tied Red loosely to a tree, with a quick release knot, notknowing or caring that he could run. He wouldnt, not with her like this. She walked up to her fathers grave ald automatically said, in a barely audible whisper, "Help me say goodbye... Father, I've left Raoul." she coweed on the steps of the grave, fighting back silent tears. But they werent tears for her father, they were tears for her angel. Tears for her love of her angel.
"Chrissy, is that you?" said a quiet voice, with a very thick French accent, " Whats wrong? Chrissy?" She then started... "- " Hold up, she thought, no one had called her Chrissy since...
Dun dun dun...tis someone you don't know about.
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Almighty Authoress 3mily