They Call Me Jack

It was just another gloomy rain filled day in dreary old London. At this point I was used to it, the smell of rain mixed with the fumes of trash and filth. After so many years I'd gotten used to it, and truly believed that morning would be the same as any other. Oh how wrong I was, so wonderfully wrong. Alas I go too far, so allow me to recount what transpired that day that would bring us to this moment.

As I said it was another gray filled day and I was just beginning to prepare myself for work. I slicked back my jet black hair dyed with shoe polish. I couldn't decide whether the brown or black suit, however as the hour was already late i decided on the black. I looked myself over once in the mirror to ensure everything was in check. Average height but small built with hollow almost sullied looking eyes. Had it not been for some adjustments I would look no different than those who roam the streets selling themselves with no sense of shame and devoid of life. Alas I ensured I looked more like a 14 year old boy, young and inexperienced. A look that would assist me in obtaining a living.

I became a practitioner of medicine as my father was before me. He was my inspiration after all, not necessarily a man of extraordinary talent but he taught me all the same. Being a surgeon he taught me all he knew about medicine and herbs to heal the sick. But what caught my interest the most was when he taught me dissection and where to cut to avoid major arteries during an operation. I paid close attention ensuring I mastered every cut and stitch so I can become a master of this art.

I stared into the mirror for too long, remembering the past and cursed myself for daydreaming. I swiftly grabbed my suitcase which carried all of my medical tools and made my way to the door. As a door to door doctor I had a number of rounds that needed to be done that morning. Some were rich and important people that would not be happy if I was late, so I rushed into the pouring rain, to my usual stand for a coffee and morning paper. I paid the man cursing softly for wasting so much time but were it not for my dawdling I would never have met you.

In my rush I did not pay as close attention to my surroundings as I should have. Especially in the downpour which already impairs my vision. While I was attempting to place the paper inside of my raincoat to keep dry and rush to my first appointment I bumped into someone. I apologized and was just about to continue on my way without so much as a second glance when the wind swept my hat away. Had it not been for that gust of wind i wouldn't have looked up at the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on.

She was blond with her hair cut short, just passed the shoulders. Her eyes are a piercing blue like the clear skies in some far away land not like the gloomy gray clouds that cover this town. I couldn't peel my eyes away. It was as if I were afraid you would simply disappear if I dared so much as breath. I managed to stammer an apology in which you countered that you should've been paying more attention.

You were just about to pay the stand clerk for a muffin when I offered to pay considering I had just bumped into you. You tell me it's fine that there is no damage done but I insist and pay the man. By this point my mind is racing on what to say, but you tell me your running late as well and proceed to walk away. I just stand there like a fool mesmerized until you round a corner and are out of sight. Once my trance like stare is over I curse myself once more and break into a run to my appointment that I am already considerably late for.

After a few wrong turns I finally managed to reach the house I was scheduled for at 215 Baker St. It was a small house that seemed to have two floors with not much for the eye to behold on the outside. The client who resides here had obtained my flat number from a family member and asked me to come check on his sick wife. I rapped my knuckles on the door and waited there a moment for an answer, but I would never have imagined what would happen next. Fate is a truly mysterious thing when who should answer the door other than you...the same girl I had bumped into early that morning that has now taken my breath away for a second time.

You seem just as shocked as I when you answered the door. I explained your father had called me to check in on your mother just the night before. Understanding this you escorted me inside to the upstairs master bedroom where the elderly woman lay. She truly was sick for she looked like a skeleton, bone thin and eyes desperately hanging onto life but not understanding why. I check her pulse and thoroughly check her body to see what caused her to be placed in such a state.

As I was inspecting the lady of the house her husband arrived. As much as it pained me to be the bearer of bad news I determined the reason she was in such a state was due to cholera. Of course they knew what this type of disease meant: death with no possibility of recovery due to the lack of medical knowledge. It was almost as if she had been awaiting this news just waiting and holding onto hope that there was a possibility for recovery. I just destroyed the last shred of hope she had hung onto.

I apologized and made myself to the side of the room as she beckoned her daughter and husband over. She said it would all be ok and everything would be fine to stay strong and she'll always be with you. She squeezed your hand tightly for a moment and smiled and without any warning she stopped breathing. I watched at the side as you broke, trying to hold back muffled sobs while your father stood there watching. I assumed trying to stay strong for you or perhaps he was just in shock.

I waited to give you both some time before calling the coroner to retrieve the body. As your father is dealing with the documentation I pull you on the side to give you my card. I tell you whatever you need, give me a call and I'll be there for you, granted this doesn't seem like the right time but it may be the only chance I have. You take my card, face streaked and red from tears, and thank me. I take my leave wishing it had been under better circumstances but happy to have a chance.

A week goes by and I haven't heard from you although I'm not surprised considering the sudden death you just went through. While I'm relaxing in my sitting room reading the paper the phone goes off. When I answer the phone I hear your voice on the other end and my heart skips a little. Your voice is low and slightly trembling when you ask me to come over. I dress and head out immediately in anticipation to see your angelic face once more.

When I arrive at the house you open the door as you did the time prior but this time you're dressed in a completely black dress and a face that immediately alerts me that something is horribly wrong. Laying on the floor, eyes wide open and a bottle of pills spilled next to him is your father. You tell me he's been acting strange since his wife's passing much more distant and out of touch with reality. You had left that morning to buy groceries and returned to find his body laying on the floor. Not knowing what else you could possibly do, you called me, so I knelt by the body to check his condition and confirm he is in fact dead.

You can't hold it in any longer the pain of losing your mother and a mere week later your father, the only family you have, you break down uncontrollably. I embrace you and stroke your hair all the while whispering in your ear everything will be just fine. You have nothing left, no family, no money as it will all go between the two funerals and burials, soon no home because you can't afford to live here alone. So I decide to do the only thing I can think of and invite you to live with me at least for the time being. You say yes, unconsciously I think, not having any other choice.

In a matter of days you handle the funeral processions of both your parents, pack all of your belongings, and abandon the house you've lived in so long to move in with me. At first everything was slow as you were still grieving of course, but soon enough you would join me at the dinner table and share some laughs and stories. I was so happy during those few fleeting moments that we shared together and hoped, prayed even, that these moments would last forever. Alas as wonderful as fate can be it can also be cruel and sadistic.

One night as I was changing to turn in for the night you crept over to my room. I'm still unsure if you simply wanted the company or something more that I had been hoping for since I met you, but you couldn't have arrived at a worst possible moment. I never heard the door to my room open and I was far too late by the time I noticed your reflection watching me in the mirror mystified and confused. As I was changing my true self was shown out in the open, my secret I kept close in order to survive this dark world. That's right, that night you realized I was a woman.

You try to stammer something but no sound comes out. I'm shocked and horrified that you had found out my secret, something I desperately wanted to share with you but was so afraid you would reject me due to the time we live in, or worse simply because you don't like me. I wanted to wait until you get to know me for my true self but that would never happen now because the next moment you're walking out my door and out the house. I curse myself for not locking the door as I usually do and try to rush getting dressed so I can chase after you. Alas by the time I make it downstairs you've already disappeared into the night and gone from my life…..at least that's what I thought.

The next day I go about making my usual rounds ensuring I keep an eye on my surroundings should I run into you again. I wanted to explain so you would understand but as time passed I lost all hope that I would ever get the chance. Weeks had passed since that night and I haven't seen so much as a glimpse. That was until I received a phone call from a new client from the nearby hospital where I would assist from time to time. When I arrived I couldn't believe what I was looking at, my stomach churned at the mere sight.

You laid there on the hospital bed broken and beaten. Your once beautiful blue eyes were swollen, purple, and distant like you were unsure where you were at this very moment. Your hair was covered in filth and grime and you barely had clothes to cover your body. Cuts and bruises can be found all along your body and I was sure before even checking there were a number of broken bones. I nearly screamed from shock when I saw you but rushed over immediately to see if you were still alive.

Ever so slight but life definitely still filled your lungs and I sighed a breath of relief. I asked the nurse how you came to be in such a horrid state. She explained that you had been found by a passerby near one of the nearby brothels. According to some witnesses you had begun to frequent them selling yourself for money in order to drown yourself in drugs and booze as so many others do. Apparently a drunkard had gone too far when you refused his advances and left you like this in a pile of refuse. When you finally found a hint of consciousness again the only name that came from your lips was mine.

It sickened me to the very pit of my stomach to see you in such a state. What was once the picture of beauty driven to madness because she couldn't understand, no wouldn't understand, the true nature of the world we live in. As these thoughts course through my mind a familiar feeling loomed over me. A kind of anger I had not felt in quite some time due to the misunderstanding of the time we were forced to live in. I promised the nurses that I would take you home straight away to your family once you were stable enough to be moved.

That's exactly what I did. I brought you back to the house where your parents passed away as it had been abandoned since your moving. I laid you on the bed and you looked around the room with an air of recognition and confusion. I looked at you for a long moment remembering how you looked when we first met as beautiful as an angel in the downpour. I stared at you with such longing wishing you could understand how I felt, but I knew you won't….they never do.

So I began by taking out a small vial from my pocket and injecting you with it. I know you weren't strong enough to move yet but this drug will make sure you won't so much as twitch. I stroked your hair one more time and began whispering sweet nothings into your ear as the drug began to take effect and numb your entire body. Once it was complete I began once again starting with tiny incisions along your body, careful not to cut too deep so you'll last as long as possible. If you remember I told you earlier the art of dissection interested me greatly.

You did this to yourself you know. I know you're wondering why I'm sharing and reliving all of this with you, or what you could have possibly done to deserve this as I slowly bare your soul one piece at a time. The truth is you're not the first but I hoped so desperately that you would be the last. The one to understand this need and accept my love. Alas once again I fooled myself into thinking I had found the one who I could share my life and secret with. But you know during the time you were gone I met someone new.

She's beautiful just like you with auburn hair and smells sweet like the bakery her family owns. Catherine is her name, such an elegant name for a beautiful woman. I've been talking to her everyday as I purchase a morning muffin just as you had the very first time we met. I wonder if she'll be the one who will accept me for who I am or if she'll reject me like you and the others before. Perhaps I'll change my appearance and identity as I've done prior. Hopefully someone who would be appealing to her. Who knows maybe number 4 will be my lucky number.

Well I suppose I'll just have to try my luck and hope for the best but don't worry it's almost over now. Ah one more thing before you go into that sweet sleep, it seems the media have given me a nickname of sorts. Despite what it says on my business card that's not my actual name. Honestly I don't think I even remember it. It's been lost to time, but I do like the name they've given me. It has a nice ring to it.

They call me Jack.

Jack the Ripper.