Meeting Erik

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Meeting Erik

    I became aware of Erik before I ever remembered Ellanna. I was 15, having just moved from Connecticut to New Hampshire. I remember sitting on my floor, on top of a mattress that we had yet to move, mentally searching for Patrick, a spirit friend who inexplicably disappeared from my mental space around the same time that we moved out of our old house. (Though he has recently reappeared)
    I suddenly saw, felt, smelled, tasted, heard a man in front of me. He was tall, slender and graceful, with dark hair slicked back into a pony-tail, black eyes, pale skin, and a white poet's shirt. He had a peculiar smell about him which was a cross between gardenia and something smoky. (Later, I remarked at a party that something smelled like that smoky element, and I was told that it was pot smoke) He looked into my eyes in a way that sent electric sparks flying through the very core of my being, and commanded, with incredible gravity, "sing to me." I reacted to this intense feeling of intimacy by flipping him off, and letting out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush. That didn't exactly get our relationship off on the right foot.
    I can't recall exactly how the whole Phantom thing started. It may have been because my friend Kristen, who introduced me to Webber's Phantom, and Kay's Phantom. He had long used her fascination with the character as a window for communication with her, and perhaps determined that a similar thing would work with me. Then again, perhaps it was because my only psychic friend at the time was an incredible fluffy, and suggested that the person I had encountered was actually the phantom, based on his initial words to me. In any case, that was the form Erik decided to take from then on. Yes, he appeared to me as either with a white mask, or with a veritable deadhead of a face, complete with sunken eyes from lack of ocular bones, and a large, gaping hole for a nose.
    I had gone to see Kopit's Phantom in a small theater in Boston with the two above mentioned, and I think that was when the charade began. That same energy I had initially felt hit me like a ton of bricks, and because I was not in a state of meditation when it did, I nearly passed out. Needless to say, I was not the most grounded person in the universe. I decided that it had nothing to do with the play, and that perhaps I just needed to eat something to get grounded again. It wasn't until Samhain, when I dressed as the Phantom on a lark, that it hit me again, with ten times the force. I decided then, as I was lying on a cot in the nurse's office of my high school, unable to move, that maybe I should find out exactly what this was all about.