One Love, One Lifetime

Chapter 7

The Phantom had her sit down at a table and he placed some food in front of her. "Eat what you care to," he said quietly.

"Where are you going?"

His head snapped back her direction, "None of your concern."

"I wasn't being nosy... I just thought... Forget it."

"If you have something to say, say it!" he was growing impatient with her.

"I just thought maybe you'd sit with me. I don't know... just trying to be friendly."

"I don't have friends, Mademoiselle. I don't have anyone, and I prefer to keep it that way."

Maribel was feeling bold, "Why not? Why is that such a bad thing?"

His voice hissed in reply, "Because I am a monster in man's clothes. You'll understand that eventually. Besides, I'm sure you'll be on your way once you figure out somewhere to go."

Tears sprung to Maribel's eyes, "I have nowhere else to go. How do you not understand that? And it's all because of you!" she yelled.

There was the pang again, he thought as he wondered what she meant by that again.

Maribel sobbed into her hands. She usually wasn't this emotional, but then again this place brought back memories and her hormones were changing, it was understandable.

Once she had calmed down a little, Erik finally said, "Can you tell me what you mean by that? I'd like to know."

Maribel's voice was shaky, and she stared down at the floor as she spoke, "The night of the fire, I was here with my mother and stepfather. My mother was expecting their baby... the heir to the family fortune. In all the events of that night, she went into early labor and died in childbirth... If we hadn't, then... If you hadn't... Forget it. It's all done with now anyway."

The Phantom tried to get her to meet his gaze, and finally said, "Maribel."

Her eyes were glossy as she looked at him.

"I'm sorry about your mother."

"Thank you," she responded quietly.

"Did your stepfather abuse you frequently?"

"In an indirect way, yes." She shuddered at the thought of the men she had been with to make money for the family.

Erik hesitated for a moment. She was like him. She wasn't a spoiled child like Christine or a wealthy brat like the Vicomte. She had endured abuse and loneliness like him.

Surprising himself, he spoke, "When I was a boy, I was abused by the men who ran the gypsy fair."

Maribel looked surprised for a moment, "I'm sorry." It was her turn to hesitate, "I'm also sorry for what I said."

The Phantom shook his head and cleared his throat, "No need. I've heard worse."

He began to walk away while Maribel said, "Thank you for the food."

Before he was able to exit, the Phantom had to ask, "The baby? Did it live?"

"Yes, a healthy boy, just like my stepfather wanted."

With a small nod, the Phantom retreated to his room. He crawled into the coffin where he slept and laid there. His body began to shake as he processed Maribel's revelation. He had ruined innocent people's lives. That was something he never intended on doing.

He hated all of it, down to being born. Deep down, all he ever wanted was to love and be loved, but his face would never allow for that to happen. He had to accept that by now.

You have done to someone else what was done to you, he thought to himself. You really are a monster.

With thoughts of the night of the fire swirling through his head, he became angry. Suddenly, he needed to release his anger. He rose from the coffin and pulled away the curtain that hid one of the only remaining mirrors in the lair. He stared at his reflection. Then he slowly removed his mask staring at the malformed flesh that littered his face. His hands shook and tears of anger and frustration sprang to his eyes. "Monster!" he shouted at his reflection.

Grabbing the nearest candelabra, he began smashing the mirror until no glass remained. It all fell to the floor, sparkling like icy crystals.

He sunk to the floor in a fit of hysteria and found his half mask which he replaced on his face. He barely even noticed that his white mask was stained with his own blood.