A Light in the Dark

Chapter 23

Chapter 23 (Gustave's POV)

All Papa could say was, "Why?"

He began pacing back and forth furiously as if he was angry. All I could do was stand in the doorframe. Did I have an answer for why I did it? I had many different reasons. I was sick of being told that my father was a monster, or he was devil spawn, or a phantom, or an angel from heaven, or a demon from hell. He wasn't. People didn't look at me that way. I was Christine Daaé's poor little boy that lost his mother. I was the poor child that had to be raised by a circus freak. All anyone ever did was feel sorry for me and feel disgusted towards my father, and I was sick of it. I had never been one to have my father's temper, but the older I grew, the more I felt it. I felt angry at society for the way they treated people. I hated how all anyone ever talked about was how everyone was supposed to love each other no matter what, and then they would turn around and hate someone who had done no wrong to them. I despised the way teachers looked at me when they found out that I was Mr. Y's son. They were afraid of him. I never knew if that was because of his reputation or his money or both.

It didn't matter that I was his son or not. What mattered was that I loved him. I loved him more than any other person on the planet, and I didn't care what society had to say about him.

"Why, Gustave? Why?" I heard Papa repeat again.

I stared at him blankly. What was I supposed to say? How would he react? I couldn't tell if he was angry with me or just in shock, so I just stood there in silence.

"Answer me dammit!" he yelled as he knocked some tools off of his work table.

I cringed as the tools hit the floor. "I did it because I want to be like you," I muttered.

Papa took my face in his hands very sternly. I thought he was going to rip the mask off of my face, but he never did.

"You don't want to be like me," he said firmly. "Do you understand that?"

Seeing the tears roll down his cheeks made me start to cry as well. "But I want to be like you," I said softly once more.

He let go of my face and picked up a book from his shelf and held it up. "You want to be like me? You want to be like me? You want to be a murderer and a con?" he threw the book across the room. "I guess you do, dammit! I guess it runs in your veins!" He picked up another book and threw it, this time breaking a window. He threw himself down on his stool and buried his face in his hands. "What would your mother say?"

I suddenly felt a burst of confidence. I felt almost as if the mask made me invincible. "What would Mother say about you?" I suddenly said strongly. The voice didn't seem like mine. It was deeper and stronger. He looked up at me surprised. I continued my speech. "Look at you. You've built this world of magic and illusion. You've built a sanctuary for those who feel like they don't belong any other place. You took me in when Mother died. You've taught me practically everything I know. You've read almost every book. You've designed the most amazing things and composed the most wonderful pieces. You loved Mother. You have forgiven so many that have done wrong to you. Yet, you sit up here in this tower and think to yourself that you're a horrible person! I don't understand! Tell me. Just what would Mother say about you?"

Before he could react, I slammed the door of his tower and decided to go down to the beach. I wasn't sure if he would want to hug me or hate me, but I decided not to stick around and find out. The last thing I wanted was for Papa to be angry with me, but I also didn't feel like talking to him – or anyone for that matter.

It probably looked pretty funny for a six and a half foot tall man to be walking on the beach in the middle of spring with a mask and cape on, but one thing was for sure, no one questioned me. I slid off my shoes and socks and carried them as I walked. I tried to think about anything but the events that had just occurred. I knew that I would have to face him again at some point, but until then, I was going to avoid it. After I walked far enough away that I couldn't see the tower my father was still probably sitting in, I sat down in the sand with my cape blowing behind me.