So lost was I in my own imagination, it was Erik's voice that I heard, soaring above the orchestra with an effortless grace, creeping through my body like a warm river of liquid gold. The extraordinarily beautiful sound revived me as nothing else could, charming my soul out of its protective shell until I was no longer acting... Captivated by the sense of unrestrained passion, I flowed through the complex choreography naturally...as if I had been born with it... He would not be ignored, this man who would be my lover. His voice spun a web of enchantment around us both, holding me more securely than the hand that closed around my wrist. It was almost frightening, the strength binding me to him, and at the last moment I escaped. Undeterred by my shyness he followed me, capturing my fingers in a gentle, yet tenacious grip and sinking onto the bench beside me. Surrendering to his tender persuasion, I let him touch me; light touches, skimming over my throat, trailing down my breast...I closed my eyes, and it was Erik caressing me, as he had done in my most secret of dreams... Abruptly - unbelievably - his perfect voice faltered, catching like a sob in his throat. At the very moment when I would have fallen into his embrace, I found him turning from me. Startled, I pulled away, retreating to stare at him from across the stage. We had never rehearsed that particular gesture...
In that hush between verses, my heart pounded with sudden apprehension. That form on the bench...I knew him. The strong curve of his shoulders, the way he moved and breathed, the way his hands clenched in his cloak...every detail was achingly familiar. A name sprung to my lips and died just as quickly. I did not want to know. I would not...I could not think of it now, not with my part of the duet before me. But if it was... No...the opera must continue... But I can't... Sing, Christine...sing! Unthinking and ever obedient to the demands of his music, I threw myself into the aria. There was no more time for questions or doubts; the sound of my own voice inspired me, sweeping me along on a tide of emotion. I sang as I had never sung before, filling the words with as much passion and desire as he had shown to me. And he heard...he understood. "In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining..." At those words, a slight, convulsive shudder racked him and i almost smiled. He had used his voice to seduce me, never thinking that two could play the same game... Stepping behind him, I glided my palms up his back in an unexpected caress, feeling the tension that arched his spine, the involuntary gasp of shock. Taut and trembling, his hands rose and sought mine, bringing them down upon his body to touch as I had been touched. I stroked over those broad shoulders, holding him as he leaned into me; I even dared to nuzzle against the left side of his face, then the right... And jerked back with a cry of dismay. It was Erik...of course it was! I had felt the hard contour of the mask under the cloak... The lovely, sensual spell surrounding us vanished like a spark on snow, and with much the same sound. Swifter than a cobra he whipped around, catching my arm before I could flee in panic. The fierce pressure of his grasp was a warning and an unspoken command. Our voices met and blended in the final blazing crescendo, the intoxicating mixture of terror and exhilaration burning through me. Did he feel the same? Did the fire consume him too? My gaze swept his shrouded face, frustrated... His eyes...I had to see his eyes, read them, know them...
Without another thought, my hands flew out and threw back his cowl. Silence. For a frozen moment in time we only stared at one another, his voice trailing off the last note of his precious aria. Dark behind the mask, his eyes locked with mine. The despari, disapointment, and utter disbelief in those eyes... It wasn't supposed to happen this way... What had I done? Why did you do it, Christine, why... He whirled away from me, from the audience, a very faint whimper escaping his lips. Guilty and horrified by my actions, all I wanted to do was run. I could not listen to, could not acknowledge the pain in that sound, or I would go mad...
But I was trapped. So when he turned to face me again, there was nothing I could do but listen.... Softly, shaking with repressed sobs, his voice pleaded with me, no more the voice of a Phantom, but that of a desperate man who sees his last hope of salvation slipping out of his reach. Choking on the words, he begged me to open my eyes and see...to put aside my fears and love him...forever... "Say you'll share with me one love...one lifetime..." An old, slow sorrow crept into my heart as he sang...the regretful sadness of wishes that had never come true... How alike we were, Erik and I; both clinging stubbornly to the pitiful promises we gave ourselves, unwilling to relinquish our dreams - even though we knew they would vanish in the sun's light. But sometime in the night I had awoke... Erik had not. Like a child he refused to open his eyes and confront the morning, shying away from the cruel, cold reality that awaited him. But all children must grow up eventually, all things must end...surely he knew that he could not hid in his dreams forever. If he did no know... My heart heavy with the realization of what I must do, I raised my tearful eyes to his, hardly aware of my acceptance his ring. If he did not know, then...then I must tell him. "Christine...that's all I ask..." I can't... I must... I pulled off the mask. God forgive me.
There are some sounds that can be heard for an eternity, and Erik's scream is one of those sounds. The positively inhuman shriek of pain and loss when I revealed him to all of Paris, stripping away his most precious possession - his dignity - I hear it in my nightmares. And at times such as this, when I sit at my writing desk in the moonlight, I can even feel his arm snaking around my waist, dragging me down below for the last act of our own opera. Deaths own hand would bring the curtain down, whether it be Raoul's, or mine - or his. I remember bitter hatred...anger...misery... But at the last moment, when our lives and our sanity hung in the balance, I finally understood... "Pitiful creature of darkness..." I had kissed him. And in that instant, while my body was still pressed against his, I realized the truth. Angel or Phantom, monster or man, it no longer mattered. Nothing mattered except the love, shining in his face as I embraced him for the second time. Genuine love...as real and as pure as anything Raoul had ever offered me. Literally shaking with the force of his emotion, Erik had pulled out of my arms at last, swaying so dangerous I reached out ot steady him...tottering over to where my foolish Vicomte dangled like a fish on a hook. Still stunned by the kiss we had shared, I could not tear my eyes away from him; not even when Raoul swept me up protectively... We were already leaving - being driven out, really - before I realized I still wore Erik's ring. Hesitantly I had held it out, my eyes searching his. Our hands joined and held for an instant, a silent symbol of the fragile bond that would never be broken... "Christine...I love you." I am crying again...I have cried so many tears since that night when I turned my back on that love and left him behind... I did not marry Raoul. How could I? Ours would not have been the happy union he envisioned... It would have been terribly unfair to burden him with my memories; he would not have been content to live with a Ghost for the rest of his life. And I would have returned, if I had not seen that advertisement in the Epoque, telling me that Erik was...was... Forgive me...some memories are still...too painful to recall. He is...lost..to the world, but not to me. Never to me. For you do haunt me, Erik. Perhaps it would please you to know that. I feel your touch in the wind, see you in every corner of my imagination, hear your voice in the silence. Even now your last words ring in my mind with a heartbreaking finality. It's over now, the music of the night...
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