The Angel's Reality

Chapter Seven - The Man in the Mirror

Hello!! So, I've been going through this long debate about when I should post this chapter. But I gave in because I'm REALLY excited about it!! So please please please give feedback!! Feel free to comment! I would love to talk to y'all!!

Also, one quick thing! My friend reelgirl2002 has a pretty cool book called, "The 6th Elepow". If you could, pop over there and read it. She has much more to come! Thank you lovelies!! Now, for the book!!
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"I gave you my music...made your song take wing!..." I heard sniffles. My eyes rested, frozen on the mirror.

"No you didn't." I said cutting him off. "You gave me no music. Any success I have is from me and God. You've done nothing."

"How dare you say such things?... you ungrateful child!"

"Child?! I'm nineteen, thank you very much! I've been working for this role practically since I was nine! You cannot claim anything I've done!" The voice in the back of my head told me to watch my temper, but you know who doesn't listen?

"Christine. I've been watching over you, your whole life. Your fall could not have been so bad to make you forget?"

This man truly believes I'm Christine... he truly believes I'm his angel of music... and that he is mine... what am I supposed to do?! Playing along could get myself and others killed. That is, if he believes it enough. But not playing along could have the exact same results... What has this man suffered to make him believe he is the real Erik? Could he be? No. That's impossible. I had to make a choice.

I hesitated... before I sang, "Angel of music, do forgive me, my mind, was weak, angel!"

"Flattering child you shall know me..." His voice started weak and feeble, but grew to be strong and confident. "See why in shadow I hide... look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside!!"

"Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of music!..." My voice fell. How could I say the next line? I didn't want him to reveal himself to me! Not yet at least. I feared I'd hesitated too long. And I had. His voice grew loud and commanding. There was no seduction like the real Christine may have been serenaded with. This was cold, and I was very afraid.

"I am your angel of music! Come to me angel of music!"

"Angel I cannot! I've severely hurt myself at rehearsal today. Angel please!" I cupped my face in my hands. I was so stressed out by this mirror! When he'd said, 'I am there inside' his face had not appeared. For all I knew this could be a recording. My body hurt and all I wanted to do was escape to my realm of music and words.

"Christine...Christine..." ...Christine... my mind repeated. Summer. Summer. Summer. My name is Summer. I am not Christine! I cannot let myself fall into her confused depressing world. As much as I love her and her story it is not a tale I wish to live out myself. 

As I was thinking all this, a chill swept over the room. The door slammed shut and I heard the unmistakeable sound of it being locked. My heart raced and became louder until I was sure that anybody within twenty feet of me could hear it as well. I felt helpless, I was stuck on this couch with no way to walk. Even if I could walk the door was locked, yet again, and my troubles were not over...

All this time I'd been taking in these sounds and feelings, my eyes hadn't left the mirror. There had been no movement in front of or behind it. No flicks of light, no faces, nothing. A normal person would have not considered this to be a problem, however, I found this to be the scariest thing about the mirror and yet the most blessed thing. But wether it was a blessing or a curse, I had no more time to think on it. Because at that very moment, it opened.

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The movement was smooth and silent. There was no warning, no sign of struggle, one minute there was glass, and the next, there wasn't. The mirror wasn't the most magnificent part of the "scene", but rather the figure who'd only moments before been hidden by its glass. He stood tall and straight. His figure alone suggested power. Only a very faint light came from behind him, allowing his silhoutte to show through the gap in the wall. He wore a long cape which made it impossible to see his full form, and he wore a fedora, hiding the shape of his head.

There were no words spoken, or sang for that matter, between us, and for a long moment, there was no movement either. Nearly complete silence filled the room. The only noises to interrupt it were the stage commotion, and the sound of water splashing on stone every now and then. Suddenly I realized he had moved. There was no noise to accompany his movements, there was no sound of his shoes on the stone, nor were there noises of fabric as he moved. I could almost make myself believe that this man was truly a ghost.

Before I knew it he was beside me. The light in the room was only enough for me to see the outline of his mask. It was a pale, skin tone mask. It covered his whole face, half of it blocked from my view by the shadow his hat created. But there was also enough light in the room to illuminate his eyes. They were so big, filled with wonder, hope and sadness. They were a brilliant gold. I had to keep myself from reaching out to touch him. Part of me wanted to assure myself that he was real, and part of me knew that this was a very dangerous thought. In one gentle movement he took my hand in his gloved one. In his other hand, he held a single red rose. He laid it on the couch to rest.

"I will be watching, Angel..." he whispered before disappearing behind the mirror once again, leaving me with no proof of his existence, except for a single rose...

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