The choices we made

Chapter 1

* Christine 

 The Opera Garnier was on fire.

 I ran after Raoul, holding his hand tightly as he led us through the flames. I used my free hand to protect my nose and mouth from the dust. My eyes were starting to sting from the fire. 

 I couldn't believe that in all this time, from when I was kidnapped by Erik until now, the fire brigade hadn't shown up to put out the fire.

 I silently prayed that Madame Giry and Meg would be safe outside.

 Then I thought about who we left behind. Who I left behind  in the underground. I could only hope he would get out in time. 

 Suddenly, freezing, I remembered something very important. Namely, the only valuable thing I had - a photo of my father - was still lying on the dressing table in my dressing room. 

 It was an impulse. I knew I was being stupid. I should run as fast as I can towards the exit.But the knowledge that I would never see my beloved father's face again terrified me.

 I ripped my hand from Raoul's steely grip and, without waiting for his reaction, I ran towards the dressing rooms.Behind me I heard Raoul's voice shouting my name. 

I didn't pay attention to him.At the sound of a loud bang, I turned my head slightly to see one of the columns break, separating Raoul from me and my way to the exit. 

                                                                                **********

 I ran as fast as I could, still covering my nose and mouth from the smoke. When I reached the door to my dressing room, I breathed a small sigh of relief. No signs of fire. I pressed the doorknob and quickly went inside. I quickly rushed towards the dressing table.

 On the table, between bobby pins, a brush and makeup supplies, there was a framed photo of my father. Feeling the pressure, I reached for the frame with shaking hands and took the photo out with one movement. I quickly folded up a photo of my father, worn over the years, and stuck it into the neckline of my dress. 

 Involuntarily, I allowed myself to quickly look through the wardrobe where I had spent so much time. Various memories flashed through my mind, including how Meg and I could spend hours gossiping here, lessons with my "Angel of Music" and meeting my fiancé, Raoul, after many years.

 Shaking my head, I wiped the tears that ran down my cheeks with my fingertip and ran out of the room. 

 I ran as fast as I could. The wedding dress Erik made me wear didn't help. Several layers of petticoats and the heavy material of the dress did not make running easier for me. I had to hold my dress with one hand so I wouldn't trip over it. I was still trying to cover my face with my other hand.

 I coughed, feeling more carbon dioxide build up in my throat. My eyes burned more and more with each passing moment.

 I looked around. The ominously dancing flames were beginning to consume this part of the opera as well. 

 I hesitated for a moment.I considered turning around and leaving the opera house by a different route, but I quickly came to the conclusion that it wouldn't help. It'll only make my chances of getting out of here smaller.

 I ran ahead. I ran by heart, because all I saw were flames and smoke.

 At one point I tripped over what I thought was a rolled up carpet. I bumped into a fallen, broken wooden beam. 

I felt a burning pain on my arm. I suppressed a cry of pain. When I looked, I saw a large, deep wound through the torn material of the sleeve. I pursed my lips into a thin line and stood up. I squeezed the painful spot with my left hand, while my right hand hung limply. 

 I felt my lungs slowly running out of air. 

 I made another attempt to get out. Every now and then I would have a coughing fit and my eyes would sting more and more. Regardless, I started running again. Running through the wisps of smoke, I was relieved to realize that I was close to the exit of the opera house. I could almost smell the frosty air outside. 

 After a while, I had to stop because the flames around me intensified. It felt like the fire was playing with me, mocking my attempts to get out. 

 I had to cough again. This time it was worse than the previous ones. It felt like my vocal cords were tearing from the inside and my lungs were on fire. My eyes were filled with tears from coughing.

 While wondering how to get around the circle of flames without falling into them, I heard something above me. 

 Looking up, I saw a several-meter-high burning beam that could fall down at any moment. It was getting lower and lower every second.

 The flames were beginning to cradle my body dangerously close.

 Without having time to move or jump away, I saw the beam falling in slow motion. It fell with a muffled thud. The next thing I knew I was lying on the ground, crushed by a heavy, hot beam. I felt a throbbing pain in my left leg. 

 Desperate, I tried with all my strength to pull it off. With no effect. It was too heavy. I was breathing heavily and unevenly under the influence of the beam. I realized with horror that this was the end of me. Even if I managed to get out from under the beam, I wouldn't make it out of the opera on time.

 I was still, at best, a dozen or so meters away from the exit, which was also already covered in flames. There was also no indication that the fire brigade would be able to get inside the opera house in the next few minutes. 

 The flames continued. I felt them glide along my dress and body, hissing like snakes. With each passing moment, I felt my whole body burning more and more. 

 I cursed myself for my foolish decision. But I knew deep down that if I had to choose again, I would choose again to try to save my father's photo. For me, the photo was the most valuable thing I had.

 Second by second, I felt my body getting weaker and my eyelids getting heavy. 

I tried to fight it for a while, but I quickly gave up. It was useless.  

 I slowly closed my eyes, praying for a quick death

          ******

Please leave a star or comment <3