| ~ Let the Dream Begin ~ by Laura D. ~ 2001 |
 |
| The moment Christine stepped through the mirror, I knew there would be no turning back. I guided her down into the depths of the Opera House, bouyed by the strength of my voice and the euphoria of her touch. I must admit that I felt a bit like the Greek god Hades, luring Persephone down into his dark underworld. But Christine seemed to follow me willingly. Granted, she believed me to be an angelic visitor, so I had stretched the truth in that instance. It was my hope that the relationship we had forged during the past few months of her music lessons would be enough to help us overcome this small obstacle. In truth, it was the least of my worries. |
| As I swept Christine down to my lair, she seemed to be dazzled by my world. The candlelight gleamed off of her white satin gown and played about her like a halo. "You are my Angel of Music," I sang to her. "Chantez avec moi, mon ange!" She did not shy away from this plea. Instead, she opened her arms to me and joined me in song. Oh, it was as if I had died and gone to Heaven! I sang with her, enveloping her in my song. I even had the courage to gather her in my arms, delighting in the feel of her body against mine. I had never in my life experienced such close contact with another human being, and I savored the moment, doing everything I could to commit it to memory. All the same, I was terrified that if I held her too close, I might break her. She was like a China doll to me, so fragile and delicate. I relinquished my embrace and moved to face her, continuing my song and praise of her. As she gazed at me, I thought I caught the flicker of curiosity behind her eyes. She seemed to see for the first time the white mask which covered my face. "Open up your mind," I sang to her. Look beyond my mask, I urged silently. Then I grew bold. I led her to a broken mirror which held a life-sized doll behind it. The doll was a poor replicant of Christine, but it had served as the model for the wedding dress that now adorned it, the wedding dress I hoped Christine might wear someday. "Let your fantasies unwind...." Be my wife, I longed to say. But the shock of seeing such a likeness to herself dressed in wedding garments was too much for Christine. Her knees began to buckle and she fell to the floor in a dead faint. I cursed my luck and swept her up into my arms. I quickly carried her into the room I had fashioned for her, the most beautiful room in my underground palace. I gently laid her on the bed and almost wept with joy at seeing her there. I checked her pulse and her breathing, and was relieved to see that she had fallen into a deep sleep. I wanted to keep watch at her bedside all night. I was so fearful that someone or something would try to take her away from me. I would have fought even Death himself for my precious Christine Daae. But I found that I was battling something else - my own desire for her. I needed to leave, to let her sleep in peace. It was so disrespectful that I was even in her bedchamber! I finally convinced myself to leave, stealing one last look at my sleeping beauty before I closed her door. Oh, to be able to awaken her with a kiss! But that dream could never be mine. I had to be content with the way things were. Just to be near her - in the same house! - was enough for me. Besides, I thought whimsically, who knew what the future might have in store for either of us? Best to savor the moment while it lasted. ~ El Fin ~ Back to the Ghost's Story |