The choices we made

Chapter 5.

*Christine

I was lying on a soft mattress. This was my first thought after waking up.

Where am I? Certainly not at home*. At Madame Giry's, Meg and I have always slept on hard mattresses because, as Antonina Giry used to say, it has a positive effect on the body and improves posture, and for corps de ballet dancers** such mattresses were perfect.

So where was I?

 At Raoul's?

No it is not possible. What would I do there? I wanted to laugh at myself for this absurd idea. Yes, I've been to Raoul's estate a few times, but I would never, ever stay there overnight.

 Oh, I can already see in my mind's eye those rumors, those newspaper articles like "an opera singer set a trap for a young count, wanting to become a countess"

I felt the air around me was humid. There were no sounds coming from anywhere. It was quiet here. I would even go so far as to say it was too quiet.

I was sore. 

Although no, this word does not accurately describe the pain I felt.

It felt like someone was sticking a thousands of needles into my body and pushing them deeper into me over and over again, causing a new layer of pain.

After trying hard, I managed to force myself to lift my eyelids. 

Darkness greeted me.

The only tiny source of light in the room I was in was a candle standing on the table.

I looked around the room carefully, trying to recognize it, but to no avail. 

Hearing the creak of a chair, I turned my head to the right.

At first I froze.

Right next to me, a man was sitting on a chair. Well, I don't know if the word "sat" was appropriate, because he was sleeping in a chair. His head was resting on the backrest, his arms were folded on his chest, and his legs were stretched stiffly in front of him. He looked like he was very uncomfortable in this position. I noticed that his whole body was tense.

When the first fear and shock of the figure in the chair passed, I realized that this man was my former angel of music, Erik.

I suddenly had a coughing attack. I felt like something was stuck in my throat. Wanting to get up, I firmly placed my right hand on the mattress and almost howled with the pain that violently shot through me.

The moment I started coughing, Erik jumped up from the chair so quickly that the porcelain mask he was wearing hit the floor with a silent groan. Without caring about it, Erik was right next to me and, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding my hand with the other, he helped me get up to a sitting position.

"Christine" Erik said with relief in his voice, looking at me

"E..Erik" I said and then grimaced

I grabbed my throat with my left hand. I sounded terrible. I couldn't believe that what I heard, that disgusting, hoarse voice, could have belonged to me.

"Wa...water" I croaked

One moment I saw Erik reach for a jug of water and pour water into my glass, and the next moment he was next to me, extending his hand with a glass towards me.

"Can you hold a glass in your hand? "he asked, looking at me worriedly

"I'll try" I replied

With a slightly trembling hand, I reached for the glass. Despite my best intentions, my hand wouldn't stop shaking. When I finally put the glass to my lips, I slowly started drinking the water. The water gave me temporary relief from my thirst, but after a while I was unable to drink any more sips. I felt as if my entire esophagus was irritated. I gave up and handed the glass to Erik, who put it on the nightstand next to the bed I was on.