.
Reunited Under Mutual Circumstances
Prelude
They dressed me in bright pastel gowns and patted my cheek. Dyed my hair brown and styled it with curls. It wasn't appropriate, they said. Black hair. They wanted me to look like them. Talk like them. Behave like them. Make me appropriate. For showing purposes only, of course. It was a strange world they lived in, much unlike my own. The women constantly tried to show off their offspring.
"Oh, look at my dear Juliette, she can play the piano so well."
"My Daniel knew the alphabet when he was only three years old, remarkable boy."
"I can't believe how blessed we are, Anna is so beautiful and talented."
And on and on they went. Forever boasting during their tea parties and gatherings.
Antoinette D'lous was her maiden name. When she married her English husband she became Antoinette Lewis. She was born in France and possessed the most annoying french accent. Her husband, Thomas Lewis is a fine english merchant. They are my wonderful adopted parents whom so generously saved me from the workhouse.
This world is so out of place for me. Down duvets, furniture of the finest wood, gowns and dresses by the dussin. White silk gloves, hats and corsets. Being seen, not heard.
I have everything that one could wish for. Everything that everyone out on the street wished they had.
I dreamed just like the others of course. I wanted this before. I dreamt of it every night. But I didn't want Antoinette and Thomas Lewis, no matter how nice they were to me. I wanted my dad.
I remember his laugh, his smile. How kind he were. My dad. It didn't matter to him how I looked like or how I came to be his daughter. I was just his little Farron. I miss him. I remember how he would walk me home from sunday school. We chatted and laughed as he held my hand fatherly. His name was Benjamin Barker. He was a barber whom kept his business above Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium on Fleet Street.
My mum and dad weren't married when they had me. Dad was young and so was she. They decided that nobody would know about me being his daughter. They said that my father had died in tuberculosis before I was born. Dad was merely mum's cousin whom played father figure for me.
After some time dad married a woman named Lucy. She was very kind and knew about me. They had a daughter together named Johanna.
And then my world shattered. My youthful innocence and joy disappeared with him. He was deported to the other side of the world, and I'll never see my dad again.
I'm stuck in a world of finery and endless etiquettes. But not for long now. My name is Farron Crewe, and I will have my revenge.