*~I don't own Sweeney Todd or it's charecters~*

Chapter 1: Stolen Love

It was cold the day I met him. Then again every day felt cold to me, after I saw that dreaded witch that ruined my life forever. The witch with yellow hair, which set a blaze to my insides like the sun that glowed so elegantly off it. Perhaps I could have stopped the problem early if I wasn't so afraid to talk to my husband. Afraid he would simply up and leave me if I gave him a reason to. Can I blame him? My out of shape form, pudgy and unattractive, my limp and boring stringy brown hair, short height –which proves to be a problem since he's attracted to tall women-, and no curves. I wonder why he married me at all. Only thing I had going for me was my eyes. Yes, somehow a startling stone gray color. I was told they were the reason he fell in love with me. Of course, that was before she came around.

"Going to the grocer again my sweet?" I watched as my husband grabbed his vest and made a straight path for the door. He paused but kept his back to me. "Oh, um- yes. I need to make an appearance."

"An appearance? Do you take me for a fool? I understand you're a judge, but what business could you possibly have at the grocer?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"…It's her isn't it? That Lucy girl. Ever since those damned Barkers moved around here you haven't kept your eyes off of her!"

"It's no business of yours."

"No business of mine? I'm your WIFE! Lucinda TURPIN! Or does that mean nothing to you?"

The door crept open and the hobbit-looking short man known as Bamford poked his head inside. He nodded towards me and smiled a dirty smile. "Good morning ma'am." I nodded back politely, "Good morning Beadle Bamford." He turned his attention back to my husband and mumbled something I couldn't quite catch. The idea of secrets made me feel even colder. Then he was gone, without another look or glance at me.

No. I can't allow her to steal what's mine. She has a husband of her own. And I child! Oh how I longed for a daughter of my own. I'll simply follow him. Yes, that ought to do the trick. I'll catch him in the act and expose the witch for the whore she is, in front of her husband. Maybe then my dear will see the error of his ways.

It was easy to spot them. Even amongst all the other shoppers and piles of food. I saw her before any other. There in her beautiful dress, hair flowing, looking at various fruits. Then, I saw him. Benjamin Barker, her husband. Quite a handsome thing he was. He smiled a gorgeous smile, and shook a doll around at the baby in her arms. His curly black hair, contrasting against such pale skin, danced around his sculpted face. Then, I spotted my husband, in a nearby ally, staring at the man with hate in his eyes. Or jealousy. I watched as he signaled the Beadle who, with a group of policemen, approached Mr. Barker. Shock of course overtook when I saw the policeman strike him in the back of the head, and carry him away. It all happened at once.

Mr. Barker was well known for his kind and generous nature. As the local barber, he was widely respected and even loved. In no way would I ever expect him to do something worthy of such a brutal arrest. Or any arrest for the matter. As they carried him away I heard the cries of his child, as that witch clutched her closer to her chest. She too was obviously surprised and horrified. Then one thing made it all clear. My husband suddenly appeared beside her.

That-that snake! Would he really send such an innocent man to jail, just to have a chance to steal that damned woman? I really must mean nothing to him anymore.

"Turpin!"

Heads turned at my blatant choice to leave out his title. Due to his embarrassment of me, most didn't even know he was married. I never referred to him as 'my lord' or 'Judge Turpin'. He took one glance at me, fidgeted with his hand, and tossed something at me. The object bounced off my head and fell at my feet. His wedding ring.

"Consider this our divorce." He coldly said, in his dragging monotone voice. "If you're smart, you'll start running now."

I didn't need any more words. I was just another obstacle standing in his way. He'd have me arrested as well. I turned and ran between crowds of confused people, as I heard the policemen's steps behind me not long after. Alleys and dark corners litter this part of London, much to my advantage. If it weren't for my rebellious teen years, I wouldn't have been able to keep this much distance. Sometimes dark pasts come in handy. I waited till the footsteps behind me were gone before I began to slow down on Fleet Street. I made my way to the meat pie restaurant just feet away.

Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies. I have befriended Mrs. Lovett herself. She'd fallen into a slump ever since her husband died. Took a huge toll on the business. I knew if anybody would help me, she would.

"Goodness, love! What's happened to you?" She stared in awe at my disheveled appearance. Hair a mess of twigs and dirt from running through a garden, my dress torn, and shoes long gone. A sight indeed. She herself looked much better than me. Her brilliant dark red hair was much more interesting than mine. Not to mention every one of her dresses cupped and exposed her beautiful breasts. Lucky for me, Turpin never took a liking to her. She rushed over to me, her lace gloved hands already sitting a mug of ale before me. "Sit down. You look a mess!"

"No time. Take me upstairs. I need to change my appearance, and quick. I'll explain along the way." Unlike me, she didn't argue much. Without another word she led me upstairs.

Uncomfortable was an understatement. Especially seeing how the Barkers lived right above her. I can't focus on that now. I rummaged through old wooden cabinets till I found where she kept her hair dye and scissors. Black. It only seemed appropriate. Matching my insides for what might be a very long time. Without much sense I hacked away at my long hair, as if each snip would send a knife driving deep into that Lucy's skull. I was almost bald when I felt a hand grab my wrist and stop my frenzy. She frowned disapprovingly.

"Are you trying to change your look or gender? You look rather boyish now dearie."

I threw the scissors down and began to dye it. "It doesn't matter. Nothing does anymore. He left me! For that whore Lucy Barker! Even had Benjamin thrown in jail just to keep him out of the picture."

That caught her attention. I remember she always had a thing for Mr. Barker, and her expression confirmed it. "Mr. Barker? In jail? Arresting a man what done him no harm!" She paced angrily. "That sad excuse for a husband of yours is-"

"Ex-husband. He tossed his ring at me…"

There was no escaping the tears now, as reality set in. She stole him. Sure he too, was wrong, but she tempted him. This is her fault and she will pay! Tears ran down my cheeks and soaked my ruined dress. Heavy silk and lace covered my head in a black veil. One of her dresses- to replace the shreds of my own.

An explosively loud bang of a slammed door brought us both to our senses. Short heels clicked frantically up the stairway to the top floor. A trailing sound of sobs drowning out the slam of her own door. Speak of the devil. Guess Lucy's finally home. Mrs. Lovett shook her head and closed her door. "Quite a mess that Judge has made." Stressed, she plopped down on the old green couch. "Poor Barker…"

For hours I was tortured by the never ending cries of her and that infant. I sat, rocking back and forth, hands entangled in what was left of my hair. She must pay…she must pay…she must pay…

"LUCINDA!"

Mrs. Lovett's cry for help sent me out of my trance and running to her side in the kitchen. Shattered glass littered the floor. I guess she dropped a glass. That's it? All this ruckus for a broken glass? She had no words. Only a blank stare out the kitchen window.

"Are you barking mad? Screaming my name like that. You'll wake up all of London!"

What's so damn interesting out there? I peeked my head over her shoulder and immediately wished I hadn't. There he was. Turpin. Standing outside Lucy's window with a handful of flowers. He never bought me flowers… I turned and went back to my seat to furthermore rock in misery.

Little did I know, this would be the routine for the next week.

The whore, will pay.