The Forbidden Rose

The Trampled Rose

When she woke up the abundance of light shocked her. This wasn't a cave and Erik wasn't there, next to her. She shot up and removed the covers from her tense body. After wiping the crust from eyes and trying to focus properly on her surroundings, she recognized the floral wallpaper and white trim along with the dark vanity across from the bed that she was in. Christine threw her legs over the edge of the bed, ready to explore, as Mama Valerius walked in with a tea tray.

"Mamma Valerius!" Christine exclaimed.

"Hello, dear," the robust woman said. "How lovely it is to see you again! I believe the last time my eyes had laid upon you, you were but a wee lass!" Her Scottish intonation and cheerful temperament were pleasant among the noise clanging in her mind and the defeated realization that Erik must have abandoned her here. She was thankful it was at least in the dwelling of a loved one yet her pain couldn't be subdued by pleasantries and the company of people she had long missed.

Mama Valerius placed the tea tray on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed, giving her a large hug and kiss on the forehead. "I'm so delighted you're here Christine," she said but slowly changed her tone as Christine was silent, "I understand the circumstances are complicated, as Madame Giry has informed me. She warned that you might be somber, but I should let you know we are happy you are here, safe, and loved my bonnie jo." Christine looked up and genuinely smiled. It was good to see Mamma again. She was like an aunt to her or even in the past like an adoptive mother when both of her parents were gone.

"Where's Pappa Valerius?" Christine asked, distracting herself from the feeling of gloom bubbling in her stomach.

"He's tending the garden but I will let him ken you're awake," the old woman said ready to exit but turned to relay something she had suddenly remembered, "Christine, Madame Giry said it was important you receive this, " she said reaching in her apron pocket and pulling out a sealed note. Christine's swallowed hard as she held it in her pale hands.

"Thank you, " she mumbled after a while of staring at the bloody wax.

"You're welcome, " she said slowly, noticing Christines disturbed expression, "also before I forget there's something for you in the drawer as well, " she said pointing her finger at the table next to the bed.

"I'll give you some time alone and you can come to greet Pappa at twalhour for lunch, " she said exiting the little room.

As soon as she witnessed the last whisp of mamma's skirt flit through the door, she ripped open the letter and unfolded the assorted parchment which included three pages. She became a girl standing on the edge of a cliff, awaiting her fortune, as she beheld the words of her neglector.

Christine,
It grieves me to let you go like this. I never intended to leave you for any reason, but after you barley escaped the hands of death by my own wrongdoing I couldn't live with myself if I choose to selfishly imprison you in the confines of my loneliness.
You deserve more than I could ever give. I plea that you will go along as if we never met. Continue to strive for musical perfection and I beg you to marry the Count. As much as the thought grieves me, he is most certainly what you need. He will provide a life of luxury and will care deeply for you in every way. You already have a sense of belonging with his family and I believe that after some time you will be happy.
I love you so much that I will be dying a slow death as each winter and spring pass but nothing pleases me more than knowing you are well taken care of. I've embraced this disillusion that I was meant to be that special caretaker for too long. I must wake up and move on so that you can truly live.
Here are my final words to you. Please, take them to heart.
I don't want you anymore.
You are but a distant memory.
I made a horrible mistake, and that mistake was you. So go on and don't you dare ever think of me again. Forget the devil you once knew.

Regretfully,
The Angel of Hell

Steam billowed from her ears and lava tears trailed down her cheeks. 'How could he write such things? A mistake? He doesn't want me?' she thought as she trembled violently. Her legs curled up at her stomach as she held herself. Her whimpers came and went in heaves and she was so affected she couldn't exhale as each gathered sob continued to build upon itself until finally, she let them out like a downpour of rain and thunder.

When she had no tears left to cry she finally opened the drawer to find a rose with a black ribbon and Erik's wedding band around the stem. In anger she pulled off the ring and threw it across the room, watching it spin like a top until falling flat against the dark grain of the floor, in the corner by the window.

She stomped on the rose next and crumbled it to bits. It made her feel good for a moment but just seconds later she scrambled to the floor to pick up the mutilated petals and packed them into her hand firmly, thereafter she stored them inside the drawer where they had been before.

She took the black ribbon and laid it on the vanity. Finally with all her dignity stolen, she slid down the wall and slumped over the ring between her ankles. She slid the large ring over the finger where Erik's engagement ring should have been. It clanked against the gaudy piece of jewelry she despised. Raoul and his twisted plot had caused her to lose the only person she had felt knew her heart and soul.

The birds outside the window chirped cheerfully. She envied them. They, with their pretty wings and songs which were free. Their voices weren't owned by man and their wings weren't clipped by domestication. How privileged they were. How autonomous.

Sadness turned to bitterness quickly and the once fragile person she was acquainted with switched suddenly into a quiet woman ready to defeat anything that challenged her. She wasn't weak and she wouldn't be dismissed so easily. She'd do just what Erik said and she would even enjoy it. She would rise far above the man from the sewers and adorn wealth and power. He wouldn't own her and neither would Raoul. She was ready to avenge the girl who was preyed on, taken for granted, and treated like something to be purchased. She was not Christine Daaé anymore. She would vow to be anyone but Christine.