Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.

Warning: This story is kinda morbid, and there is a character death. So if you don't like that, turn back now. Now then, to all who are still reading, Enjoy!

Graveyard Fields

Christine's POV

"Monsieur, stop here," I ordered the cab driver. The driver turned to look at me before stopping.

"Here, Madame?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yes," I answered.

"Madame, this only leads to the sewers-"

"I know. Thank you." I said as I handed him the money due.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. It had only been a month since I left my poor angel, and already I was about to bury him. I entered his home using the key he had given me, only to be greeted by the worst smell my nose had ever come in contact with. The smell led me to his bedroom, to where he awaited me.

There, lying in his coffin, was Erik. The lid was open and his mask was off, just like he said he'd be. I walked over to the poor soul to say my good byes, when I remembered something, he needed his ring.

I slipped it off of my finger and kissed it before sliding it on to Erik's finger.

"I remembered your ring, Erik," I told him. Oh, how he was cold! So very, very cold.

"Erik, you're freezing," I informed him.

I best go fetch him a blanket.

I run into my room and grab the comforter from my bed and bring it back to him. He will be very pleased, I believe.

"Here," I say as I tuck the blanket around him.

Now he is warm, but now I must figure out how to move the coffin.
I pick it up on one end and attempt to move it, but it won't budge. Again, I try it. Still the same.

"I guess you just don't want to be moved, do you," I huff.

My eyes scan the area for something to help me move him, but I see nothing. My eyes fix back on to Erik and are locked there. It's almost as if he still has control over me.

"You don't," I tell him, "I am a free woman and I will look where I want to look." But my eyes won't move.

I have no choice but to stare at him. And I think he's looking back. Though he has shut his eyes, so I can't tell. Never again will I get to see his eyes. My own eyes swell up with tears until it's not possible to hold them in anymore.

"If you still have control over me, why don't you dry my eyes? You used to say it pained you to see me cry. Well, it pained me to see you cry, Erik. Are you crying now? I can't tell, you won't open your eyes. Stubborn," I choke out through my tears.

"Or perhaps you're like Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty. Just asleep, waiting for a kiss to awake you," I realize.

I lean down and press my lips to his. Nothing. I do it again, and again, but I'm getting dizzy, so he's not like a cursed character from one of my beloved fairy tales.

"No wonder. You always hated fairy tales," I said as I run my hand over him. My hand stopped right over his heart. No beat.

"Is this how fate would have it? That you, a genius in everything, to be lying down here, all alone beneath an opera house? You deserve so much better. Erik, I had never kissed you up until now, and I think it would have been better if you kissed back. But you won't kiss back. You don't even acknowledge I'm here. That's rude, you know. I came all the way here, and you won't even greet me. It's not like I'm a stranger. It's me, Christine. Erik, please say something, I'm only supposed to be here an hour. You love me, remember? Or can you not remember that either.

"You have given me so much, and I have given nothing in return. You gave me music, and allowed me to soar. You gave me attention, and I ignored you. You gave me your heart, and now...now I must give you mine," I said as I stood up.

I stumbled over to his desk and opened the top drawer. There it was, Erik's knife. I picked it up and rolled it over in my hand. I walked back over to where Erik was and showed him the knife.

"My heart is yours," I said before plunging the knife into my chest. Oh, how it hurts! But it is for him. The room is getting darker, is it getting lighter? It doesn't matter now. No, it does not matter. But I'm afraid Erik's room has become a graveyard field.

The End