AN- Ok, I've taken a few liberties, but I hope you enjoy. I haven't read any other Sweeney Todd fics, so for all I know this has already been done a thousand times.
...
I loved her.
She was everything to me.
She cared for me.
She loved me.
I know she did, no one can ever tell me otherwise, no matter how much they laugh at me. No matter how many times they look at me with those horrible, pitying eyes.
"Poor, stupid little orphan, to think he still believes she cared for him, that bitch pie maker and her murderous lover."
He wasn't her lover. She didn't love him, she loved me! She helped him, that's all, and in return he burnt her to death while I watched. I remember it. The way he casually tossed her into that metal box and listened her scream, like it was music to his ears.
It was first time I ever felt the rage in my blood. I had fought before, I hurt a boy badly once, but I didn't want to. I had never wanted to harm anyone, my whole life. But at that moment, as I crawled out of my hiding place and held his precious razor in my hand, I gave in to the anger, to the hate coursing through my body, down to the tips of my fingers.
He didn't fight, didn't struggle. He just sat there and waited, offering his throat to me. I remember that feeling, as the blade cut into his skin and sliced his neck open, watching the blood cascade down him like a river.
It was glorious.
I don't hate him anymore. I know now that he welcomed his fate, just as much as if he had slit his own throat. No, I can't hate him anymore.
I hate them.
They sent me back to the work house when I was no longer helpful to them, having answered all their questions. They saw that I had changed. I scared them, no one wanted to be my friend anymore. Not like she had been.
Even now, years later, I can still hear them talking about me, and her. They say wicked things about her, that she was a monster, that she was a whore of the devil.
I can see some of them now. It's a group of whores, standing on the street corner, plying their trade. I slept with a whore once, I didn't enjoy it. One of them has spotted me, of course, everyone knows me, the stupid boy who aided the demon barber and his mistress. They're laughing at me.
That rage I felt on that day has never left me, and I've never forgotten the wonderful feeling of the razor in my hand.
I'll make those bitches pay. I'll make them pay for laughing at me, and talking ill of her. She'll look down from heaven and see that I'm still protecting her, even if it's just her good name.
Her little darling. Little scamp. Little Jack-o-lad.
Jack.
Jack.
