time

~ Le Temps Guerit Toutes Les Blessures ~
(Time Heals All Wounds)
by Laura D. ~ 2001

I had been away from the Opera for six months.
Six months of hiding away in the French countryside like some sort of convict on the run. My crime was the cruel betrayal of one who had inspired me with the gift of music. My teacher had laid an immense and tragic love at my feet, but I had denied him my heart because of the deformity of his face.

I hung my head with shame, remembering the night I had fled from the Opera House with my childhood sweetheart, Raoul. We thought we were so clever, riding away from the Phantom's menace. But little did Raoul realize that it was my breach of Erik's trust that had set into motion the horrors of the night.

I had been such a fool to confess my fears to Raoul, to fall prey to his comforting kisses. But I was sincerely terrified. Joseph Buquet, the strange stagehand for the Paris Opera House, had just been murdered. And the Opera was a-buzz with who had committed the deed: the Phantom of the Opera!

He was known as the Opera Ghost, a living phantom to the nervous cast and crew, but to me he was my Angel of Music. He was Erik!

Why Erik had killed Buquet was incomprehensible to me. Perhaps it had been an accident. Or perhaps Buquet had seen the horror of Erik's face. That thought terrified me to no end, for I had also seen Erik's face, and I worried that he would come after me as well. But my heart reminded me that Erik could be incredibly kind and tender, and perhaps it was possible that Erik had not been involved in Buquet's death.

But his shadow had loomed at the scene of the crime, and I was so distressed by the disturbing event that I could not think clearly. I ran to the arms of my noble suitor and childhood friend, Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny.

Raoul was everything a girl could dream of - handsome, dashing, charming - and he eagerly sought to soothe away my fears. I trusted him, I felt safe with him, so I let him take me away from the Opera House and the Phantom who haunted it.

We hurried away in Raoul's coach, the crash of the chandelier and Erik's laughter ringing in our ears. I could only imagine that Erik had overheard my betrayal of him to Raoul, and I truly belived he would come after me to seek his revenge.

But he did not.

I was sheltered at Raoul's country estate for six months, and not once did I sense Erik's presence about me. This disturbed me more than I dared to admit, and I struggled to make sense of my confused feelings.

I was afraid of Erik and his dark temper, but most of all, I was afraid of his face. I remembered every detail of it and that dreadful night when I pulled his mask from him. But as the months crawled by, I found that my fears seemed to pale in comparison to the emptiness I felt at his absence.

I missed him! I missed the sound of his voice, which had become a healing balm to my soul. I missed our lessons together, those hours of bliss where I had thought I was truly conversing with an angel. And oh, how I missed singing with him!

Erik's voice had had a miraculous effect on me. Through that divine instrument, he had helped me to deal with the death of my father. He also inspired me to conquer my fears and to succeed on stage. He made me feel that I could make all of my dreams come true. Indeed, his voice had sustained me through my deepest grief and lifted me up to ecstatic heights. Without him, I felt incredibly lost.

Raoul seemed to sense my confusion and sought to occupy my time with a whirlwind of activities. He planned picnics and shopping excursions during the day, followed by lavish parties at night. But I had always been a rather shy girl - not one for big crowds or loud parties - and I found myself seeking out quiet spots for a bit of solace.

Though even in those moments, I was not alone.

I fancied I could hear Erik calling to me - especially at night - and I would glance about, expecting him to be there. To my dismay (and growing disappointment), I could find no trace of him. I unconsciously began to search for him, peering into shadows and the glassy depths of mirrors, wondering in vain if I would ever hear see him again.

But Erik was not there.

My dreams were filled with him - not the loathsome monster others claimed him to be, but the angelic teacher who had come into my life and rescued me from despair. I remembered how beautiful he looked when he opened up my mirror and appeared before me, an angel in the flesh, his white mask gleaming in the candlelight. The misty world of my dreams seemed so like Erik's palace below the Opera House, and I felt myself succumb to the rapture I had felt in his presence. My body seemed to respond to my dreams, awakening to the unbidden pleasures I had experienced when Erik sang to me. His voice rang throughout my mind, and I could almost feel his arms about me, rocking me in a loving embrace.

But then the nightmares came, and it was not his dreadful, unmasked face that began to haunt me, but the feeling that I had abandoned him. I would wake to find myself sobbing, terrified that I had lost my Angel of Music forever.

But though I wept for Erik, I could not find the courage to return to him, so I stayed with Raoul in the safe, complacent world of the aristocracy.

Poor Raoul! I am sure he had no idea what to think of me. He tried to be my fearless protector for quite some time, but when Erik did not make his presence known, we were left with the task of trying to relate to each other. We found we could easily discuss our childhood, but the present and future were quite unclear, especially as far as I was concerned.

Raoul tried in vain to nurture the romance that had blossomed between us in Paris. I found his attempts charming at first, but I soon felt smothered by his attentions. I coudn't think clearly, and that bothered me greatly. My father had always cautioned me to approach matters with a clear conscience, and I took comfort in that idea of being unclouded. So perhaps I pulled away a bit from Raoul, trying to gain some sort of understanding of my self. But Raoul could not understand my reticence, and when I did not respond as he hoped I would to his physical advances, he began to press me for intimate details about my relationship with Erik. This, of course, did not help our romantic possibilities, as I greatly resented his intrusive inquiries, and I withdrew even further.

I did not blame Raoul - he only wanted to love and protect me - or so he said. I should have been grateful for his kindness, and part of me was, but the other part of me longed for the excitement of the Opera. The music! The lights! The applause from the audience! And the spine-tingling sensation of my Angel hovering about me.

How could I explain this to Raoul, who had tried so hard to free me from the Phantom's grasp? And how could I begin to understand my own conflicting feelings for Erik, my dark suitor?

And why did Erik not come for me?

Oh, this vexed me to no end! Did Erik no longer care for me? Had I completely broken him with my deceit and denial? Granted, he had tricked me into giving him my heart and mind, but then I had turned away from him and betrayed him with Raoul. Such a slight would not be easily forgivable in Erik's mind. And I wondered if I would ever be able to truly forgive myself.

I saw my chance for redemption when we received an invitation to the Opera's Masked Ball. The chandelier had been restored, and the managers of the Opera House hoped to bring back some lucrative joy to the place by hosting a masquerade. Such a notion immediately made me think of Erik, and I hoped beyond hope that he would be there.

I told Raoul that I had to attend the event, and he became quite insistent on accompanying me.

"Do you really think it wise, Christine?" he asked. "You know that he might be there."

"I know, Raoul," I said simply. "But I cannot hide away forever. I don't want to be a recluse out here in the country! I want to go back to the Opera!"

He gave me a puzzled look, but did not pursue me further.

Instead, he ordered a fine gown to be made for me for the occasion. And on the night of the Masquerade, he proposed.

"We have been living under the same roof for six months," he said quietly. "Everyone will expect us to be engaged."

I was beside myself with this declaration. How had time slipped away so quickly? And how had I allowed myself to fall into such a predicament?

"Raoul..." I began to protest, but he seized my hands in his own.

"I know things have been a bit strained between us," he said, "but you know I love you, Christine. I would do anything for you."

I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and felt my own well up with tears.

"I... I don't know what to say!" I whipsered hoarsely.

"Then don't say anything," he gave a pained smile of hope. "Simply wear the ring... on a chain about your neck, if you must. And know that I will do anything to make you happy, Christine. I love you!"

I looked at him and wondered how he could possibly love me when he didn't understand me. I hardly understood myself.

~ Chapter 2 ~