To Darkness Drawn

It was over, a single blinding moment and it was over, everything I'd ever wanted and I was throwing it away. For what? Even as I tried to fathom the workings of my mind I knew I was lost. I was so lost without him, if nothing else the weeks I'd spent above ground far from his presence had proven to me how very much I needed him.

So this was how it would end, in flames, my soul burning. Everything I had worked so hard for, half a life time and I had thrown it away from what. A beautiful woman''s fickle affection. I had given her everything I was, taught her to leave the bounds of her body and take to the heavens and she repaid me not in kind but in desperate betrayals. I missed her, I missed her quiet presence in the house on the lake, I missed knowing she was somewhere above, but most of all I missed her voice winging to the heights as my fingers caressed keys as I never dared caress her.

I won't pretend to understand my feelings for him. I will not analyze this wild tangle of passion and fear that curls inside me when I think of him. I try to think on music, simple and safe, the thing that would be my solace in all this insanity. My only solace and it was irrevocably intertwined with him. I can not hear music without thinking of his voice singing, of his fingers moving gracefully over the keys.

The music still rings in my head, the music still whispers through my mind, and the only ting that is missing is her. I wonder how I lived my life without her to this point. How I could have had this gaping emptiness and not been aware of it. I want her, I need her and I don''t know how to get her back, I have to wait, wait in the shadows, standing behind a mirror, and hoping against hope that she will return to me.

I had never fled the day, but more and more, I longed for the shadows. He was changing me. Changing me until I was not sure who stared back at me. My mind whirled in a thousand directions, new and forbidden. Each moment I spent here in the light I found my soul longing for the cool enfolding safety of shadows.

I had never craved the daylight and the darkness had forever been my friend, but tonight I wished for the day, tonight I wished tomorrow had already dawned, for it''s dawning would return her to my world, where I might easily share the same air, taste her scent on the breeze. I stand on the roof of the world, my world and I can hear the echo of her fears, and if I listen closely enough I can hear the reprise of her passion. I can hear her pouring out her fears to that foolish boy each of her words tearing into my soul, and yet now I remember what else she said, I remember the light of ecstasy in her eyes as she spoke of me of my music of what that music made her feel. In music she was always mine.

Everything was changing. I was changed. I had snapped at Raoul yesterday, demanded to know why he continued to treatment as if I'd suffered some terrible mental defect. Yes I had been foolish, naive to believe in angels, and yet had he not been my Angel? He had been my Angel when I needed an Angel more than I needed the air I breathed.

Soon she would return to me, so very soon she would be back within reach. So close, I knew I had but to wait and her own wavering heart would bring her back to my arms. Does she tremble at the thought of once more being in my domain, as I trembled at the thought of having her once more near? Has she grown wary of his world of bright lights, and pretty things, does she crave the beauty of my darkness? I think she must.

He had given my soul wings to fly when I was shackled to the cold earth by my despair. I needed him and he was what I needed, who could blame him for answering my childish prayers in the only way he could. I had no doubt that he loved him, knew that he was angry with me, knew that in a very short time I would once more be in his domain. He would have the power to clip my wings are help me to soar once more.

The sound is rather painful, her voice once more a bleeding wound begging to be made whole. Do they notice how empty she is? Does he notice how empty she is? Can''t they hear her soul crying out to be saved? Sweet Angel, I would save you, you have but to ask.

I told myself all kinds of stories to comfort me. I told myself that Erik was evil that his soul was black as the world he lived in. I told myself that nothing human as love could truly be in the pit. I told myself that his world was filled with horrors I did not want to see. I told myself so many stories to ease my aching need.

I told myself it did not matter, that it was not important if she was there waiting in front of the mirror. That I would not be utterly crushed by my despair if I was left without her once more. I told myself all sorts of stories to ease my loneliness. I pretended it did not matter that she had promised her hand to another, because I possessed her soul, I had only to remind her of that fact. I deceived her into believing I was an Angel, but for her I was The Angel.

What a fool I was to think I could touch that darkness and remain unchanged. I am changed, changed beyond all I'd ever known. I am no longer happy with the sweet passion of Mozart I hunger for something more.

She's standing there, my music held in her still trembling hands. Her eyes on the silent mirror between us. I wait, barely able to contain my excitement. She has but to say the word and I would take her, teach her.

Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction

Disclaimer: Erik and Christine belong to Gaston Leroux and in later times Andrew Lloyd Webber and numerous others who have added their own touch to the man in the mask.