Let Your Fantasies Unwind

Cut Scenes

Just some scenes that weren't right for the story, or an alternative that I couldn't let go of.

Excerpt from Ch. 8

It's my turn to blink several times. "I, uh...am from the future."

His visible eyebrow scrunches. "My apologies, but what? Are you insane, girl? Are you feeling well, Megan?" he walks over and checks my head, and gets normal results. "You have to explain this, now that you've said it. Were you planning to tell me at all?"

"When we trusted more each other. I didn't feel like it was appropriate now."

"But you still tried it."

"Indeed I did, and here we are. Please, give me time to explain."

"We've got all the time in the world. You start now."

And I explain my life, the future, and how he plays a part in both.

]~[

"So...at your time, I'm fiction?"

"Yes, but now I know that you're not."

"Why had no one else try to see if I'm real or not?"

"I guess they wanted to preserve the mystery of it all."

"But you know of my suffering! Did no one want to come here and try to make me feel better? You said millions of people-" he chokes out, "-love me. Is that a lie?"

"No, Erik. I read a report that when the twenty-fifth anniversary had tickets go up for sale, it was a three day event, something like three hours long, filled with people, and all the tickets sold out in five hours. Five hours, Erik!" I realize that I had said his other name, twice.

He freezes. The sun is almost done, dusk, like a few days ago. The wind blows a little harder, so I zip up my jacket and huddle into it.

"In...your time, I'm fake?" he starts.

"Many people didn't and don't want it to be so. They-every time they listen to the original London cast, see the movies, from nineteen-twenty-five, the nineteen-sixties, the two-thousand-four film, the twenty-fifth anniversary, and all the other stage productions that went on, they all cried. They all cried. They all cry. Every time they see the events happen, they cry."

"What's so sad that they cry, though? You keep leaving that part out."

I freeze up this time. "You will find out in about a year or so."

"But what is it?"

"I can not tell you Erik! I wish I could, so then I can comfort you, help you, love you even, but I cannot because it has not happened yet!" I yell at him.

The blind anger turns into tears, and I break down into a heap on the floor. I hear the door that leads back to into the Opera house open and then slam close. I pour my heart out, crying for what feels like decades.

'I yelled at him! Yelled at him! I told him my past, technically his future, even though I didn't specify. But he had asked, and did not get an answer he was expecting. I think he might go kill someone because of his anger. That's what he did to Buquet. Or he might kill me, and I just have to walk into the Punjab lasso. I'm clumsy enough to do so, and short.' I sniff, trying to keep the boogers from running. "I'm sorry Erik. My heart will forever break for you, even though you don't understand just quite yet. I hope you forgive me in time."

With that, I fall asleep, the last thing I remember are the stars shining so brightly.

Alternate Ch. 23 thing