After the Lair

Building the Barricade/ Journey to the Cemetery

|| Christine Daae ||

It was a lot harder than I thought it would be to fall asleep that night.

I was back in my dressing room, because I didn't want Erik to see my cry, because it was his fault and I knew he would lose his mind if he found out. Besides, I would probably end up wanting to stay with him, and I kind of knew how that would end.

Okay, I am about as traditional as it gets, and so is he, so basically, that was a no no.

Moving on.

The moment I closed the mirror, I had an idea. We both knew that he would just sit outside my dressing room and not move all night, and I needed to cry without him noticing.

I grabbed a chair, hammer, a  few nails and a sheet. I opened the mirror slightly to make sure he was gone, and he was. I got to work, hanging the sheet up so he couldn't see in.

"Wait, what if he just moves the sheet?" I thought to myself. Well, that would definitely defeat the purpose of hanging up a sheet for the last fifteen minutes. I tried to figure out what to do. First things first though, my hair needed to be out up. I was so tired of it falling in my face. I grabbed some hair pins and got to work.

Once my hair was pushed aside, I decided to move the desk over, and pile everything up on it. I didn't know what else to do, and by the time I was done, the sun was completely gone and I knew it was closer to dawn than dusk. I walked to my bed and let the first tear fall.

I knew I would have to be quiet-after all these walls weren't soundproof. I just sat there, silently sobbing and wishing I had never left. Maybe then, he wouldn't have tried that.

I eventually fell asleep, but it would've been better to just stay up. I didn't have nightmares, but I was extremely uncomfortable.

When I woke up, I realized the date. My father's death anniversary... oh, no. I had forgotten.

I ran through the stage silently, something I had learned to do during Hannibal and Il Muto.

"Make no noise, for you are not the lead," they had said.

I found some roses and a horse.

It took approximately a half an hour to get to the cemetery from the Opera Populaire, but it felt like an eternity. I was finally there, but I was so tired from last nights restlessness, so I sat down.

Tears poured out of my eyes. I just sat there and sobbed, but the tears took up so much energy, so to my disliking, my eyelids began to droop. I needed to leave, but the step was so oddly comfortable. The cool December air caused my skin to tingle in the nicest way, too. It reminded me of my time in Sweden.

I yawned and fell asleep, next to my fallen father, and wished that he was somehow here again.

I apologize for the length. Merry Christmas! -PresleyElmer