Categories > Books > Phantom of the Opera
June 13, 1834 - Friday
Today was the worst day of my life. I died.
For all my life I was told to trust the people, that it was God's will my face looks as it does. For all my life I did what was expected of me. My mother wanted a good son, I fulfilled all her wishes. The townspeople thought I was not trustworthy, I didn't do anything wrong but I let them have their delusions. For all my life I played a part in the play they wrote. For all my life I trusted.
I trusted Mother because she was supposed to love me. It was her duty to love me, to have this special place in her heart that is only for me. It was her duty to look at my face and see the son of her heart, not the faceless monster that I am. I trusted her because I believed that one day she would have the courage and show me her love. I trusted her because she was my mother.
That trust was betrayed.
This night she let the people have me. This night she allowed them to 'get rid of the monster'. She just stood there and watched as every man in the town hurt me. Oh, they didn't just kill me, they had a plan. They wanted to see me suffer. They stole it. These monsters took away the one thing every human being is supposed to give away only if they wished so.
I can think of myself as lucky. I don't remember much of this ordeal. The only thing I remember is the look in her eyes. For the first time in my life I saw some emotion other than hate or fear in her eyes. I don't know what it was I saw but it scared me. This strange woman, this perversion that wore the face of my mother, looked at me with cold eyes and a smile on her lips. I heard her soft laugh every time the men tore my soul apart.
I was put into our church's cellar. I heard them talking that it was the perfect place to hide my corpse, that nobody would dare to go there, as the building was old and needed repair.
They didn't even care enough to close my eyes.
Later, I don't know if it were hours or merely seconds, I woke up and saw blue lightning run over my skin. I saw the wounds heal without leaving a scar. Nothing was left to remind me of my pain than the memories.
Today was the worst day of my life. I died.
I came back.
I close the diary with a sense of finality. This was the last entry. This was the last piece of my stolen life.
Some day in the future this book will be found. Some day the world will know of my pain. They will read and know what happened in this town. They will know of my revenge.
I will leave it here, in my mother's house. The last piece of my stolen virginity will lie here buried in the memories of my painful childhood.
Mother will protect my dreams as she protected me. She will never leave her house again. For twenty-eight years she sent me out into the dangerous world of my hometown. For twenty-eight years she hid herself behind her white curtains and rose bushes. Now she will never get the chance to leave again.
She should have used her chance and run away.
She was the last.
Now I can find peace. Now I am free.
I was once told that fire is clean, that it washes away all your shame. Like the sword of the Avenging Angel it searches for those who did wrong and calls them guilty. And like this Angel I walk through the streets and start the final cleansing.
It is beautiful to watch it burn. The whole town is a lover to the flames
My heart sings in the sweet knowledge that revenge is not a dish best served cold. Revenge comes in beauty and burns you away.
I watch it burn till there is nothing left but ash.
Today was the worst day of my life. I died.
For all my life I was told to trust the people, that it was God's will my face looks as it does. For all my life I did what was expected of me. My mother wanted a good son, I fulfilled all her wishes. The townspeople thought I was not trustworthy, I didn't do anything wrong but I let them have their delusions. For all my life I played a part in the play they wrote. For all my life I trusted.
I trusted Mother because she was supposed to love me. It was her duty to love me, to have this special place in her heart that is only for me. It was her duty to look at my face and see the son of her heart, not the faceless monster that I am. I trusted her because I believed that one day she would have the courage and show me her love. I trusted her because she was my mother.
That trust was betrayed.
This night she let the people have me. This night she allowed them to 'get rid of the monster'. She just stood there and watched as every man in the town hurt me. Oh, they didn't just kill me, they had a plan. They wanted to see me suffer. They stole it. These monsters took away the one thing every human being is supposed to give away only if they wished so.
I can think of myself as lucky. I don't remember much of this ordeal. The only thing I remember is the look in her eyes. For the first time in my life I saw some emotion other than hate or fear in her eyes. I don't know what it was I saw but it scared me. This strange woman, this perversion that wore the face of my mother, looked at me with cold eyes and a smile on her lips. I heard her soft laugh every time the men tore my soul apart.
I was put into our church's cellar. I heard them talking that it was the perfect place to hide my corpse, that nobody would dare to go there, as the building was old and needed repair.
They didn't even care enough to close my eyes.
Later, I don't know if it were hours or merely seconds, I woke up and saw blue lightning run over my skin. I saw the wounds heal without leaving a scar. Nothing was left to remind me of my pain than the memories.
Today was the worst day of my life. I died.
I came back.
I close the diary with a sense of finality. This was the last entry. This was the last piece of my stolen life.
Some day in the future this book will be found. Some day the world will know of my pain. They will read and know what happened in this town. They will know of my revenge.
I will leave it here, in my mother's house. The last piece of my stolen virginity will lie here buried in the memories of my painful childhood.
Mother will protect my dreams as she protected me. She will never leave her house again. For twenty-eight years she sent me out into the dangerous world of my hometown. For twenty-eight years she hid herself behind her white curtains and rose bushes. Now she will never get the chance to leave again.
She should have used her chance and run away.
She was the last.
Now I can find peace. Now I am free.
I was once told that fire is clean, that it washes away all your shame. Like the sword of the Avenging Angel it searches for those who did wrong and calls them guilty. And like this Angel I walk through the streets and start the final cleansing.
It is beautiful to watch it burn. The whole town is a lover to the flames
My heart sings in the sweet knowledge that revenge is not a dish best served cold. Revenge comes in beauty and burns you away.
I watch it burn till there is nothing left but ash.
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