They didn't look at me too closely. If the Barkers did, they would find something so much different to the character with strange hair and pale features that looked too longingly at their happy life. They would find so much more. They would find a man capable of such deeds that it would change their lives.

My name was, and I suppose still is, Sweeney Todd. Times seemed to have changed drastically for me once I knew Lucy, and soon Benjamin Barker. I had been a simple enough man, and was well renowned despite my harsh features and matching temperament. Not that, of course, I could claim love at first sight to Lucy. No, I was not as pitiful as that. I had known her long before Benjamin Barker. I am proud to say I knew her even before she was as beautiful as she was the day she died.

I remember it well.

It was five years before she met Benjamin. She was still young. Fifteen, at the very most, if I recall. It sickened me how she had married so young. Twenty. That's all she was: twenty. I shudder to this very day. But my mind was set on that young Lucy. It would be complimentary to say she was not the most handsome of creatures at that age, but she was not by a long shot ugly. Her face still held perfect features, and her eyes still glowed. Yet her years of puberty left her slightly spotty, and with more weight than a working class girl. I still found her beautiful, though. I was a family friend at the time, and visited often. We became good friends, I suppose.

Not good enough.

At eighteen, her spots had disappeared and she was elegantly thin and blooming. She could have summoned men with a whistle if she wished, but no. I thought that after a few years of gaining her trust and friendship, I would have stood a chance. No one did. No one but Benjamin Barker, the young barber from down the lane. He was not a disagreeable lad, and I had no reason to hold a grudge against him. Of course, that was my previous thought. Now that my deepest desires had been stolen from me, there were certain resentments that could not be denied.

Lucy's family had at first thought that the friendship between me and Lucy was enough to become a foundation for marriage, and so they were as disappointed as I was at her declaration of their engagement. They found my brave façade chivalrous for a while, but then their attentions were turned to the young, handsome Benjamin. In my opinion, it was quite unfair. I was as young as Benjamin, and if I had been blessed with the same background as he had, I would have been as handsome. Yet fate wished to mock me in this way.

I could have easily shrugged off the events that lead to me losing Lucy. But my mind was a perturbing one. It disallowed such pleasures, and instead made me remember all too often. I sought comfort in a nearby pie shop which allowed me to wallow in self-pity. Mrs Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium. The food was ghastly there, and so no one came but me. Mrs Lovett herself did not notice me that well. Her attention was always directed upstairs.

Of course. The one place I could find solitude happened to be the shop below where my Lucy lived. I could not leave, though, as it was still that: my place of solitude. It was also a place of good observation. From where I sat, I watched as Benjamin Barker would visit the shop in a friendly manner, helping Mrs Lovett while her husband was gone drinking. I was not surprised to see that loving look every time she saw him. It was undeniable that she was indeed in love, and I felt a surge of anger. Benjamin Barker did not notice.

What sort of a man was he? Everything that he had- countless admirers, a beautiful wife, and a child on the way- was oblivious to him! Why, if I were in his position, I would have sang constantly! I would have shouted to the heavens every Sunday and praise the Lord for what He had given me. No, Benjamin Barker was not like that. He was simple enough to take what he could, and smile through the pleasures, mocking those below him. And for that, I hated him.

Fortunately, Mrs Lovett, although desperately in love and ignorant of me, kept me interested in sanity. When Lucy and Benjamin would leave their home for a trip to town, I would keep her company from a distance. In a way, I felt as if I were writing a story, and watching it unfold before me. I watched the drama as Albert Lovett would come back to the Pie Shop, and immediately leave to their small parlour to drink. I would watch Mrs Lovett drop a tear, and wince as she thought of the caring young man above her shop. I eventually watched as her jealousy grew when young Johanna was born to Lucy and Benjamin. I joined in her jealousy, although for completely separate reasons.

I longed to find Mrs Lovett's company, simply to express me feelings with a more understanding party, but found this impossible as her attitude was quite reluctant to anyone besides her own little building. My nights after this realisation were spent in a sighing fury, knowing that I should never find a companion for simple conversation. On these nights, I would look down at myself and imagine myself crying over the poor, pitiful creature who could not sleep, eat or properly breath under circumstances.

"Poor Sweeney Todd!" I would cry through the night. "Abandoned in the world by all those who knew and loved him!" Any other creature in my position would have thought of menacing evils. But no, I was more civil than that. For days on end I would sit at Mrs Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium, until about a year after baby Johanna was born. Finally, my restlessness was more than I could bear. A plot came to my mind, and quite a delicious one at that!

With the spark of the plot in my head, I rushed to my writing desk and whipped out my paper and ink. My hands trembled as I put the pen to parchment, and began to write.

The most honourable Judge Turpin,

As a most law-abiding citizen, I find it strange to need your services in such a worrying haste, but a crime beyond all comparison has been committed in Fleet Street that I think requires your immediate attention.

Not a day ago, I was walking down Fleet Street towards the famous Benjamin Barker's Barber Service. Dear Lord, I thought, as I looked down the street to see that same Benjamin Barker to be out by the road committing the most terrible of crimes. Theft! Theft, nonetheless, from a poor woman who I recall to be visiting her grandson. I could not stop him, for at that point the saw me and ran back into his shop. I had only enough time to help the poor lady back to her feet and send her on her way safely, but without the expenses she had left home with.

This, I believe, requires you and your faithful beadle's service as soon as possible. There is one last thing I must ask of you.

This Benjamin Barker is married to a young maiden by the name of Lucy Barker. I wish to make it clear that no letter should be mentioned to her, and no address is to be mentioned to her, lest her heart should break from it. My intentions are to comfort this young woman, and it would be quite impossible to do so if her heart is beyond repair.

Enclosed is the address to Benjamin Barker's Barber Service, and I hope that you shall see to the business soon!

Your most faithful servant,

Anonymous.

I signed the letter as such, afraid to find myself named in front of Lucy. Guilt overwhelmed me as I enveloped this letter that would send an innocent man- the man whom my true love had married- to the gallows or to some torturing prison far off. Yet, there was still something in my mind that made me feel as if everything I was doing was completely right. For the moment, I had to believe that it was.

And exhilaration ran through me as I realised I was to send the letter. In fact, no. I required someone else to. I leant out of my window, watching out at Fleet Street. It was then I saw a young boy come from Benjamin Barker's Barber Service.

"You there! Boy!" The young lad looked up at my window.

"Yeh talkin' ter me, sir?"

"Yes, you! What is your name?"

"David, sir. David Connings, sir." I threw the letter down, watching it flutter to the ground slowly. The young David picked it up, and looked at me.

"I want you to send that to Judge Turpin. Put it in his hand and no one else's. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeh, sir." He nodded, and ran off. I wondered for a moment why he had not asked for payment, but was quite glad he didn't. Due to Barker's barber business, I had not been able to gain a penny, despite being able to shave twice as well and much quieter to that. It was a dreadful shame.

What was more of a shame was that Judge Turpin seemed to have held onto the letter longer than needed. The young boy did not come back, but I did not doubt that he had sent the letter. The Judge seemed to wish to irritate me.

But not for long.

I had merely waited a week.

I was in St Dunstan's Market at the time.

I had seen them.

They had not seen the police.

I smiled, prepared to place a friendly hand on Lucy's shoulder.

The Judge got there first.