My first Phantom of the Opera story. The characters and their personalities belong to Gaston Leourx. Enough said.


I don't even want to think about it. That part of me is gone. No more. No less. She is history, and soon, I will be too. That is all there is to it.

People always describe last moments as looking back on one's life, and its purpose. How would they even know how last moments feel? After all, they are here to tell us.

I do try to look back, but I do not think there is much to look back on. I never accomplished anything worth accomplishing.

My existence was a curse upon humanity. My life was a worthless void. My own parents never hesitated to prove that to me.

Society shunned, driven by hate and remorse, I retired to life in the catacombs. The darkness was my only friend.

No matter what happens anymore, this human world can be void of my existence. Where I go now I know not. It is far away from here. That is all that matters.

Hearing is believing, but music can deceive. My music was my only honesty. It was my only purpose.

All that accompany me are unfinished songs and ballads. Worthless memories of ungrateful pain.

The past. It cannot be forgotten, nor remembered. It is the worst kind of nostalgia. Unchanging and constant, the past haunts my existence.

Forever remaining, forever unchanging, it is beyond my control. Time flows on, despite human iniquities.

I wonder as I leave, will I be remembered. Through all that I have done, will anyone notice that I'm gone?

It matters not. Life is short, and mine must be cut short. Legacy is far overrated.

I will not be here, therefore it matters not whether I am remembered.

My life was meaningless, thus I end it.