Breaking Free
As soon as she had the strength, Johanna made her way over to the barber's dresser and picked up the photo. She had seen photos of the woman; it was her mother. The man, her father, was clearly the same as had just nearly killed her. Her father was a madman. She had never really believed the Judge when he told her that the man was murdered, and she still believed that her father lived on in the blood-soaked monster she had seen. She had to find this man - to know her father. Against her better judgment, she tore off her hat and rushed down the steps to the street below. At a loss for where to go, she stopped to listen for footsteps. Though she heard no footsteps, there was a light shining from behind a large door on the stairs. Stuffing the cap in her jacket pocket, Johanna crept over and carefully tried the door. It was unlocked. She stepped inside.
The room was large and dark, containing little more than an oven and a meat grinder. The awful stench of rotting flesh eminated from a mass of human remains along the far wall. Three bodies lay before her, the boy stood behind them. He was hardly twelve, but he held a bloody razor in his hand. "He was mad," he announced shakily. "He killed them, all of them. I had no choice. I had to kill him." Then, after a moment, "I'll fetch the police," and he ran off, dropping the razor beside the bodies.
One body was Judge Turpin's, to Johanna's relief. Another was Mr. Todd's, holding that of the infamous town drunk. It was only then that Johanna remembered the picture in her hand. Upon further inspection, she found her suspicion to be correct: the ruined lady was her mother. Finally, she had found her family. As wonderful as it was to know who her parents were, to look upon their faces, it made her sick to see what they had become. With her free hand, she lovingly caressed their faces, her mother's before her father's, careful to avoid the blood. A small gasp notified her of Anthony's presence. He looked worried. "They're my parents," she quietly informed him, her voice choked up with tears. When Anthony failed to respond, the girl gently laid the photograph beside the razor and replaced her hair beneath the cap.
Though Johanna stood to leave, she couldn't take her eyes off the man and woman who had loved her so many years ago. There was only one thing that could make her...
"Johanna." Anthony took her hand in his. It fit perfectly. Her eyes met his, and found comfort in them. He would not fail her. She was free to reciprocate his love.
It was with high spirits that the young couple left. Fate was on their side. There was hope.