Your Voice

Chapter 13

Hey guys! This is really, really late but Happy New Year! I'm so glad my year started off with me checking Wattpad to see that I've got 400 reads! Thank you so much! You have no idea how much it means to me when you guys vote and comment ❤️ I hope you have a great year! Enjoy! xx

Christine

"Erik..." Clutching my stomach and falling to my knees, I see Erik rush to me.
"MUMMY!" Gustave screams, struggling to break free from the soldier's constricting grasp. Erik cradles me, pressing his hand against my wound, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood.
"Oh, God, Christine, no," he mutters as he tries to carry me up but fails; his leg is giving him a hard time.
"Erik, the baby... what about the baby!" My eyes well up with tears and a stinging pierces my heart that's more torturous than the stab. My child could be gone, and I was the one who failed to protect it.

"No, Christine, it's alright... it's alright..." he whispers in an attempt to reassure me but I know that he knows the child is most probably dead.
"Let's go. I think they've learnt their lesson." Melissa looks down at us. "Now you know. You do not threaten Melissa Wells." If I was stronger, I would have clawed off her face. She sneers cruelly, motioning for the soldiers to follow her out of the room. As soon as Gustave is released, he rushes over to me.

"No, mother no..." he rests his head on my shoulder and I gently stroke his head; it could be my last time.
"Erik..." I whisper.
Come closer, I beg you
He leans in and holds me tighter.
Closer still
Erik unfolds his legs and rests me on his lap, his face centimeters from mine.
Remember, love never dies
Kiss me one last time
His lips press onto mine, and I feel the sweet sensation running through me. I reach up and hold his face, pulling off the mask and cupping the deformed side, and then I feel the ecstasy fading as I disappear into oblivion.

Erik

Gustave is nestled against my chest and sobbing as I watch Christine being taken to the emergency room on a stretcher. Please don't take my Angel away, I silently plead. That damned Melissa... she'll be the one being rushed to the hospital very soon. Now not only might I lose my fianceé, I might also lose my child. And what about Gustave? He can't experience such a loss at his young age; it'll scar him forever.

"Christine!" I follow after her but am pushed away by a doctor.
"Monsieur, the surgeons need their full concentration, you can't go into the room, and let the doctors tend to your leg," he tells me, but I resist, pushing against him.
"Christine! I won't leave you! No! Let me through!" But it's too late - the doors of the room shut.The nurses escort Gustave and I to a room, where we are checked and fixed up. Thankfully, Gustave isn't harmed apart from a bruise on his cheek - "one of the men punched me, papa," he had complained - and I am alright too; they only had to pull the bullet out of my leg and bandage it up. It had felt numb before, but when they were touching the wound it stung very badly. With support from Gustave, I limp to the chairs in the waiting room outside the operation theatre.

Before I can sit down, Gustave looks up at me. I crouch down so his eyes are level with mine. He swiftly puts his arms around my neck and embraces me. Taken aback, I stumble back a bit. It gives me some comfort, knowing that if Christine does go, I will still have one person who loves me. We sit waiting, praying, hoping outside the operation room that Christine and the child would make it.

***

"Monsieur, she's in the first ward on the left. She's alright, but don't make too much noise; she needs rest."
"Oh, thank you so much, doctor," I whisper, the words tumbling out in a quickly, trembling with relief, "come, Gustave." The beaming boy follows behind me, nearly skipping with joy. When we reach there, the room is cold. Frowning nurses holding bandages and bottles instruct each other and bustle in and out of the ward. My heart pounding, my mind racing, my body shaking, I push open the doors as gently as I can - I don't want to wake her up. Her pale head rests on an elevated pillow, the rest of her covered by multiple blankets.