Chapter 5
Erik sat at the computer with his third glass of brandy. He decided that a feeling of intoxication would be much more welcome than humility. Really, that feeling was becoming quite old. Of course, he felt it everyday due to appearance, but this added punch in the stomach due to a girl and the Internet was even more shameful.
And, I am just increasing this shame, he thought while typing in his Pen-a-Pal user name and password. Weak, weak, weak…
Before the page could load completely, Erik turned his head away from the screen and focused on the painting, Starry Night, hanging on one of the walls. It sometimes surprised him that he wasn't put in an insane asylum just as the artist of the painting, Van Gogh, was.
Erik shook his head and hesitantly turned back towards the screen. His eyes widened, and a gasp escaped his lips unwillingly. He had an email. Sh-she replied. His heart was pounding wildly.
He clicked the box to open the message with a shaky hand.
Hi, Erik. I'm so glad you want to continue emailing. It sounds like you're quite the musician. You do everything! I feel so inadequate, since I only sing. You ask if I've been in or seen any operas. No, I haven't. Honestly, I don't think I'm talented enough to be on stage. I was in some musicals in high school, but I couldn't be in any sort of 'real' production. As for seeing an opera, I would love to. I just can't afford it. I wish that were different. Have you seen or performed in any?
I know I'm about to change subjects, and I'm sorry for what I'm about to say, but I feel like opening up to you. Ok, have you ever felt like your life is really unfair? I mean, not just because of something trivial. What if you can't help it? What if your life is, somehow, out of your control? I won't give details. I won't bore you in that way. I just needed to get it out. I'm sorry. I'm sure you didn't want to know any of that. So, moving on.. I like the questions we seem to be asking at the end of our emails. One a message, maybe? I'm really interested in knowing more about your skills in music. What kind of music do you compose? Well, I hope I haven't scared you off or anything. Thanks for reading!
-Christine
Erik couldn't believe what he had read. The message contained a startling revelation. We are more alike than I thought...
It was almost frightening how familiar her words were. "Have you ever felt like your life is really unfair?... What if you can't help it?" The words caused him to let out an uneasy chuckle.
He touched the problem, which was the mask on his face, hesitantly while his curiosity began to increase. How could life possibly be unfair for her? He knew her life couldn't compare to his own. Nothing could be that unfair.
If the fact didn't remain that she had never seen him, he would have been furious. There is no way she has experienced the pain and suffering that I have. But, he couldn't erase the thought that was, And yet, I wish to know of what she has gone through.
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Christine undid the top three buttons of her white blouse having just left her work place, the restaurant, Ruby Tuesday's. She was hot, sweaty, tired and just wanted to sleep.
But, not before checking Pen-a-Pal. I've become totally addicted.
She drove quickly and was in front of her computer within ten minutes' time. Please let there be a message.. Please let there be a message..
The homepage appeared, and there was… no message. No! Sighing, Christine signed out, realized just how tired she was, got ready for bed, and fell into a deep sleep.
The following morning, none other than Christine's mother woke her up. She opened her eyes slowly and frowned. "Long time no see," she said groggily.
"We need to talk," her mother announced.
Christine's brow furrowed, and she sat up. "What about?"
Her mom sighed. "Look, I know we haven't gotten to talk much lately. I'm feeling bad about it."
"Mom, don't feel bad. I understand," she mumbled, although it wasn't the truth.
Her mother shook her head. "You say that now."
Christine's head tilted to one side. "What's happened?"
Her eyes left her daughter's face and stared at the wall. "You deserve to know what I've been doing…" She sighed. "Look, I've been alone for so long, Christine. When your father died, I didn't think I would ever recover."
Christine's face fell. "I remember how depressed you were." You still are. You have been for the past sixteen years.
"I wasn't a good mother."
Christine cut her off. "You were a great mother." Her words felt like an automatic reflex… Basically, unfeeling.
Her mom couldn't keep it in any longer. "I'm getting married!" She couldn't meet her daughter's eyes.
Christine's eyes widened, and she gasped. "You're what?"
Her mother became a little calmer. "I'm getting married. That's what I've been doing. I've been with him, with Jeremy."
"You've been with him, with Jer-…" Christine shook her head back and forth. She thought her mom was still depressed. She'd even said that she was still missing her dad, and that wasn't too long ago! "You've been lying? Every time I ask Brian where you are, he says that you're napping or you've gone to run errands. Why in the world would you lie?"
Her mother shrugged. "What else could I do? There's no way you would accept him."
"And, why not?"
"Well, I-.." Her mother was quick to speak, but this time she didn't know what to say. "I don't know."
Christine stood from the bed. "Well, you're right. I won't accept him! And, it's because of you! How could you just lie like that? God, and you're getting married? He hasn't even seen us! What, were Brian and I just going to be your little secret?" With one last look into her mother's eyes, she yelled, "How could you?"
And, with that, she ran out of the room. In fact, she ran out of the house not even caring that she was barefoot and still in pajamas.
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Erik finished writing the email to Christine and felt like his brain was dead. It was the first time he'd ever had that feeling.
And, it was the first time he'd ever gone to bed before midnight.
The following morning, he was woken by his cell phone ringing. Looking at the clock, Erik found it to be after 10:00 am, which alarmed him. He'd never slept past 7:00.
He ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted the mask on his face a little. It was uncomfortable sleeping with it on, but he refused to remove it except when bathing. Then, without looking at the caller ID, for it wasn't necessary, he answered the call. "Hello, Nadir."
"Erik… There's a bit of a problem here.." Nadir was speaking while cleaning up a terrible mess of spilt coffee.
A growl emerged from Erik's throat. He wasn't exactly a 'morning person'. "What is it?"
The dark skinned man let out a shaky laugh. "Well, I grabbed your newest piece this morning and came here. I got my usual cup of coffee and sat down to look at the music. It was then that my clumsy ways got the best of me. I spilt the coffee all over the music."
Erik groaned. "You are careless." He sighed. "What about the second copy? Can you not use that?"
"I forgot to grab it," Nadir mumbled.
"So, it is here with me," he stated miserably.
"Exactly."
"Well, come get it," he said with a tone that showed he thought Nadir was an idiot.
"The thing is, Erik, I was extremely lucky to get a good parking place this morning. If I were to leave, I wouldn't be so lucky the second time." Nadir's lips curled upward. He hadn't meant to ruin the music, but, at the same time, the idea of Erik escaping the confines of the mansion and breathing some fresh air was well worth his clumsiness.
Erik felt his day getting worse and worse. "So, you expect me to bring it to you."
"Exactly."
"Nadir, I hate you." He was too irritated and tired to think of any intelligent words.
"I know," his friend replied cheerfully.
Erik hung up and began getting ready to leave. He hadn't actually left the mansion in over three months.
When he started the ignition of his black Rolls-Royce Phantom, Erik became a bit nervous. He hated the outdoors during the day, and he hated nerves. No one can see in. Remember that. He drove down the long drive way slowly, becoming adjusted to his bright surroundings. Damn sun..
Once away from the drive way, though, things got better. It actually felt… nice. Richmond, Virginia was a fairly decent place, he inwardly decided. Nice weather, not much traffic, calm. That was a good word for it- 'calm'.
He stopped when coming to a red light and waited while nervously strumming his fingers against the steering wheel. His eyes scanned his surroundings and found the grass, which he rarely saw, to be interesting. Something else then caught his attention. His brow furrowed.
There was a girl walking barefoot down the sidewalk wearing light blue pajamas. It was an amusing sight. He almost laughed.
Then, as if she could sense his stare, she stopped and turned towards his car. It seemed like their eyes met. His heart stopped beating.
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Christine knew she was wearing pajamas. She knew she didn't have shoes on. She knew she looked like a complete mess. But, she didn't care. She just kept walking getting farther and farther from home.
Her thoughts were on her mother, the liar. She'd never really been close to her mom. It seemed like she was always depressed. Christine couldn't even imagine how elementary school children would handle her teaching in the classroom.
At least I have Brian. Brian had always served as a sort of parental figure in her life. Well, that is, until she became a teenager. When that moment in time occurred, it seemed like she had turned eighteen, not thirteen.
She did everything for herself. I have no reason to be grateful to my mother in any way. It disgusted her. But deep down, it made her incredibly sad...
Christine suddenly regained a feeling of reality and realized that she was walking the sidewalk of a busy part of the city. A blush rose to her cheeks as she looked around.
Her eyes widened, however, when something she never thought she would see caught her attention. Whoa! It was a Rolls Royce Phantom.
Brian had once been obsessed with cars, and Christine learned the names and looks of many of them. This was about the most expensive of any!
She gazed at it with her mouth gaping open. She couldn't see inside, but she was sure the driver must have been the luckiest man or lady alive.
Christine didn't realize she was dead wrong. She also didn't notice the driver staring at her.
The odd staring contest couldn't last forever, though. When the traffic light turned green, life returned to normal. Neither knew the moment was rare, ironic, and even fate.
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There is more to come! Please leave a review :)
-Lauren