Enjoy, my fans. Thank you for following the story this far. <3 The Phantom of The Opera will always be my inspiration for my Death and as seen to the right, this is the point of no return in this story.

~At last, the point of no return. No backward glances. Our games of make believe are at their end. No use resisting. Abandon thoughts and let the dream decend.


I don't know how long my eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling of an all too familiar bedroom before I slowly lifted my head off of my pillow in an upright position.

I was in my room. My real room in my parents' home.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Startled, I turned my head towards the entrance of my room. It was my Father, smiling brightly at me. He wore a pair of his old jeans and one of his favorite leather belts, paired with a dark blue sweater and a silver Rolex that my Mother had gotten him as a surprise for his birthday the year before. As he neared I saw he was clearly shaven. I could already smell the aftershave he had always used, the cologne. It brought tears to my eyes when he came over and hugged me tightly. Even his hair smelled the same.

Was I dreaming?

"Daddy? W-what are you doing here?"

He pulled back, frowning, then slowly his face lit with amusement. The bed caved in slightly as he sat down. "I live here?"

"I...how did I get here?"

My Dad's expression grew serious. "Honey, you came here late last night with your Mother and fell asleep in your bed. She told me you missed us."

Walking into the home? My Mother? I didn't remember any of that...

I blinked a few times before it all started to come back to me. The hospital. Death. The memories.


I stood up from the bed, clutching my hands to my head and shutting my eyes as images flashed before me. I was flying over the Chicago city, looking down, with someone holding me to their chest. Suddenly the city melted into trees, into suburbs, and then I could see my house in the distance. My captor landed softly onto my driveway, gently turned me around and clutched my drooping head in both of their leather hands.

"Invite me in. You'll be safe here for the time being," the voice had reminded me of my Mothers, blended in with a deeper, more masculine voice towards the beginning.

"Can you come in?" I asked groggily. The dark shape of a person in front of me began to melt into a woman as we approached the house, holding me with the same strength as a man even as we entered the home.

My father got up from his couch as we walked in. He was reading the newspaper as he always did. I could barely concentrate on his words. "Faith?" He asked, looking to the person holding me with a frown before reverting his eyes back to me. He looked positively shocked to see both of us. "What are you doing here, honey? I thought you were at a late meeting?"

"It got cancelled so I called Faith to see her. She's feeling a little ill right now. We were shopping the entire day and had to leave because she was nauseous," my Mother's voice said smoothly next to me. It sounded like her, but the strong grip at my arm made me think otherwise even in my groggy state.

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