Disclaimer: If I were Gaston Leroux and owned Phantom of the Opera, the soap I just used wouldn't smell so weird.

a/n: ok ok i had to do this with dreams of reality and now i'm going to do it with this story. is anyone out there anymore? i mean i can give some cheap version just to end this story. you know end it by saying "well his face healed up, she fell in love and there was a happy ending". of course i already know what's going to happen and personally i'm excited. if your excited and want to hear the REAL ending, review.

a/n part II: also, if any of you like genres such as mystery, romance, family, memory, angst, moving forward, and finding the truth, i highly recomend you read my new story "brown hair and green eyes" it has nice LOOOOONG chapters if that makes you happy.

plz read & review!

Chapter Seventeen – The Disorder

Journal,

Why the hell did I ever start this damn thing to begin with? Well at least I'll have something somewhat pleasant to write this time. Christine is with me now, in this house, at this very moment. I could almost find it funny how she writes in her diary while I write in you. Her expression seems to be very concentrated on what she is writing. The child must have a lot to say! The child… that really is all she is. I'm old enough as it is and to fall in love with a child such as her… it's disgusting. The whole setting of it is disgusting. Not only her physical age, but also her mental age and my physical appearance next to hers. She is so perfect and I am so… I found something interesting the other day. I cannot say how exactly I came upon these records, but somehow I have them now in my possession thanks to Nadir. It would appear that Christine has a slight brain disorder. It's uncertain what exactly what it is, but she has one no less. It almost seems to be a strange form of ADHD mixed with OCD if that's possible. I have always noticed Christine's ability to need to have a track of things going on. It never struck me what my affect on her could be until I found it was an actual problem. I can only imagine I made it worse. But she needs me now. She had no one else, and even if that was partially my doing it is now the truth and we all have to live with it. Christine seems to have somewhat of a selective memory. She'll only remember what she thinks is important. Her father was the only important thing to her and therefore everything that has stuck to that brain of hers had to have him behind it. I've now tied myself into her memory forever by proclaiming myself as her Angel of Music. I ought to have more of a chance of keeping myself in her thoughts than Raoul now! …but this all explains how she came out as innocent as she was. It wasn't only her father sheltering her from everything – it was her not choosing to listen. Everything that would have raped a girl like her in college went straight past her ears for it had nothing to do with her father. It all fits, but best of all, I fit in with it. I'll never know why I fell in love with a girl like her. Perhaps it's this disease that made me want to protect her so badly. Whatever the reason, I love her and nothing is going to stop me from taking her as my wife. The time is coming where she'll love me in return. I can feel it. Her confusion is so tempting to me for I know that she is trying to figure out the new feeling I have placed in her head. It is that feeling that just may cause her to grow up into the bride I know she was born to be. The game is never ending but I need a good challenge in my life. God I love her so.

Erik looked up from his writing to see Christine still scribbling in her little notebook. He often wondered what she wrote and even thought of taking the book some her sometime just to glance and her thought process. Smiling softly, he closed his own thought book and proceeded to stare at something worth seeing.

Dear Diary,

I wish I could say how long I've been here. Erik is writing in a diary too it seems. I wonder what he has to write about. Maybe he talks about all the places he's seen! It would be so great to travel to far off places… but going with him. I just don't know what to think about him, really. He's so different from anyone I've ever met and I don't know how to take that. I feel, well, different around him now. I don't really know how to explain it really. I must have been with him a month now. I'm used to him and I know what he expects of me, but I just don't know about what to do with myself. The ring on my finger won't leave or come off. I wish it would more than anything else. I feel as if in that ring holds my soul and he's the one to own it. See! There's an example of what I'm talking about! He's making me think – not about school and subjects Daddy wanted me to learn about, but about life and wants and likes and dislikes. Speaking of that! He sure does kiss me a lot! I don't know what to do about it either! And it's not just light soft kisses that Raoul used to give. They're full on kisses that are sometimes so intense that my lips feel bruised when they're over! There's only one problem: he sure is good at it. I never really knew how a kiss could either be good or bad, but he really has taught me that. He doesn't kiss like Raoul, in fact… wow, I'm already blushing at this confession, but I kind of like Erik's kisses better. There's something in them, not physically or anything because that would just be gross, but something emotional. Passion. And there he is again! Getting into my mind again! Tell me to think and to… and to grow up almost. But I am grown up! I'm legal and I can drink and do everything else adults can do! But no one ever really treated me like an adult… Not even Raoul. Meg did though, well in a way she did. She was always there to protect me though, and I love her more than life for that. I don't know what I would have done without her. One time, when I was really little, I remember my daddy searching through what looked like medical books. I asked him about it and he never really answered. He would just smile and tell me to go read a book or play with my doll. Daddy never had anything wrong with him… I've suspected that I could be the one with the problem… but shouldn't I know what the problem is if I have it? I wonder if Erik knows. He's really smart in just about everything. He's like a walking encyclopedia or something! Well, he treats me like a kid too. But it's gotten better lately. He likes it when I make conclusions for myself. It's almost as if whenever I do something more "mature" he complements me by treating me… well, as a regular person. I kind of like it.

Smiling thoughtfully, she closed her little book and looked directly in front of her only to find Erik staring attentively back at her. This took her off guard and resulted in her dropping her eyes, looking up at him awkwardly, then dropping her eyes away again.

"Finished with your writing, my dear?" he asked casually.

"Yes, yes I am done now."

"Very well then, would you like to put your diary up now?"

"Um, well, actually, no, I wanted to, well, to ask you a question. Is that alright?"

Erik smiled at the girl sitting on the ottoman in front of him. Perhaps he was making that break he was looking for. Why else would she want to ask him a question that would require her to passively stay with him longer when it was her own free time before dinner?

"Ask me anything you wish." He said relaxing a bit in his chair.

"Well," Christine paused to look down at her bare feet as her toes wiggled in the carpet below her, "would you" she looked up at him suddenly then let her gaze fall once again, "do you think there's something… well something wrong with me?"

Erik's brow furrowed at this.

"What do you mean my angel?"

"Well, I mean, well I don't know really, I just, well, people have always treated me differently I guess, and I never knew why, and well maybe there could be something, well wrong with me."

Raising his eyebrows he suavely walked over to sit beside her. Taking her hands in his he spoke to her just as everyone had spoken to her before.

"What does it matter how other people have treated you? You're with me now and I do not see anything but perfection when I look at you."

This was meant to be sweet to her ears, but it only made her more upset and frustrated.

"And I guess you're not any different from anybody else then!" Somewhere she found courage and stood up, "You baby me just like everyone else does and I don't like it! Why does everyone treat me differently? I want to know!"

This leap excited Erik, but he knew better than to let it show. Patting the seat next to him he said, "sit Christine and I will tell you."

She obeyed, "tell me what?"

Taking her hands he said softly, "what kept you so innocent for so long."

"What do you mean?"

She seemed almost scared to hear what was to come. Erik knew that it was that look on her face that kept Charles from telling her this, but he was no Charles.

"Christine, you have a brain disorder. The doctors have not yet figured out what it is. It is not harmful to you, but it is a disorder no less. Your memory is overly selective and that selection seems to be based on what you father wanted. Now, as I've said, there's nothing wrong with that, but it does hinder you from ever growing away from him. He taught you of the good in this world, he told you stories and inspired you to live out the life of those he told you of and you followed religiously. Remember, that none of this is a bad thing, but it does hinder you from growing in your own personal thought process. Don't you see, Christine? I want you to think. I believe that if you make enough choices and conclusions of your own, that this disorder will secede some how. I believe that you can pull your self out of it with time."

Christine looked as if in horror. It was true, she had drawn a conclusion and it was correct, but she didn't know just how to take that. All she ever knew was what was right and wrong, but never in between. Perhaps Erik really was on her side after all. She seemed to be staring off into oblivion now and Erik felt that it was important for her to be pulled out of her trace-like state she was making for herself.

"Christine, darling, are you alright?"

Breaking her thoughts she said the first thing that was on her mind.

"Did Daddy lie to me?"

"Everyone lies, darling." He said gently.

"But Daddy never lies. Not to me he doesn't." she whimpered.

"He only wanted to take care of you and bring you up the best way he could, Christine."

"But lying to me?"

"Sometimes it is necessary, my dear."

"But I love my daddy."

"And he loves you, Christine. Sometimes people lie because they love someone."

"Do you lie to me, Erik?"

She was innocent, but a quick thinker no less.

"Yes, I have lied to you."

"But I thought you loved me…"

"Christine what did I just say?"

"But I thought that if you love someone, you have to trust them. Why can't you trust me to handle the truth?"

"Isn't that what I just did? I told you the truth because you made a conclusion for yourself that you finally wanted to know souly for yourself. Christine, you are already progressing, don't you see it?"

Lowering her head she spoke brokenly, "I don't know what to think anymore… I don't know…"

He now took her in his arms as he had wanted to do this entire time. She cried shamelessly and for once, actually reached out for his comforting embrace as her arms stretched around his neck. It was understandable that she was confused. Her whole world had just been flipped upside down, but Erik could only smile softly to himself. It was true, Christine was thinking for herself and now would forever put Erik into her memory as the one who told her the truth for the first time in her life. Not to mention, comfort her after hearing the news.

what could this possibly mean?