Categories > Books > Phantom of the Opera > Guilty


by Indigo 0 reviews

A oneshot I wrote on a whim based on the idea that Christine had chosen to walk free. Could apply to any version, really.

Category: Phantom of the Opera - Rating: G - Genres: Angst - Characters: Other - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2006-04-06 - Updated: 2006-04-06 - 692 words - Complete

It's strange to think that today was the day I'd have been marrying Raoul. As we stood on the rooftop together in the snow, alone, all those months ago, I hadn't really taken in what I was asking Raoul to do, and what he was asking me back. It had seemed like a wonderful dream, a promise I knew would not be kept.
I hadn't even thought about it when he asked me, down on one knee, holding out the biggest diamond I'd seen in all my life in his garden like a vineyard at dusk. I was sixteen, it all seemed /so romantic /to me.
Granted, I'm still only seventeen, but in that one year I've grown up a lot. I learnt the hard way. I have Erik to thank for that.
Raoul was wonderful to me when we were engaged, he was. He shielded me when I needed it most, forcing me gently into making the right decision. He saved me from a half-life.
As I stand in a small, leafy garden on a Sunday night, much resembling the one in which Raoul asked me to marry him formally, I think myself lucky to have found such a wonderful man, who was willing to lay down his life for my own benefit.
I wish there could have been some way to win on that night not so very long ago in Erik's house, but there wasn't. Watch the love of my life leave me in Hell with a Demon who wanted more than my hand, my heart, soul and body too, or leave that place knowing my lover was dead, in there, in an Underworld, when he deserved so much more.
I was young, I still regret that decision. What else was I to do? What would you have done? I wish I could say that I want to turn back the clock and change ,my mind, but I am but a coward. I'd only make the same choice again. I am but a coward. I walked free. I killed Raoul.
I look up at the faint stars through the ugly pollution from Parisian streetlights, each winking sternly at me, condemning me. I don't know what they mean. Are they reminding me that I have to go to work tomorrow, or telling me I should have stayed down there in the home of my Fallen Angel?
I remember him - for how could I forget him? - in extraordinary detail. He is not the sort that you ever really forget, he makes too much of an impression on you. I saw his skull through his papery skin that night and kissed him goodbye. Kissed Raoul's killer goodbye.
I still cannot understand that. Why did I not kiss Raoul goodbye instead? I was not afraid of Raoul, like I was of Erik.
The guilt preys on me even now, poking me awake when I close my eyes, whispering evilly that now I know what Raoul sees every day, pinching me when I try to eat, telling me /Raoul /should be tasting this food, not treacherous, unworthy me. Malevolently the winds hiss and boo through the tree branches.
If I tried to end my life and gain my rightful place in the deepest circle of Hell, they wouldn't let me. They'd call me a coward, truthfully I must admit, because in the last moments of his poor young life, Raoul told me to go and live for the both of us, to marry and have many children and watch them grow.
But I can't, Raoul, I can't! I'd wish when I looked upon any husband of mine that they were /you, /watch those children grow and be disappointed when they do not grow up into /your /image! I miss you so, dear Raoul, I am sorry! I have failed you, dear sweet Raoul, I cannot bear to live yet I am too afraid to join you in the cold earth!
And you failed me too, Raoul. You tried so hard to save me. Erik is dead, and I am free, but I still live but half a life. You did it all for nothing.
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