This room is a prison and I am its captive.
These walls, once as bright and yellow as my fair lady's hair, now peel gray and cease to reflect light. It is always cold now, no longer warmed by the laughter of children or the intensity of two bodies, writhing blissfully as they contort into erotic poses, becoming one in the night. There is only darkness and cold.
I am a ghost here, no more than a shifting shape among the shadows. My mind has long since wasted away. It no longer craves to create, to inspire. I feel nothing but the bitter hatred which brought me back to this place. Every day it grows stronger, filling me up, devouring my insides cell by cell until it consumes all but itself. Soon, it will overtake even the desire to avenge, replacing it with the desire to murder. Sometimes I wonder why its presence doesn't alarm my heart, so that it might freeze and allow me to take my last, cursed breath.
Then I will be free; just like her.
The woman downstairs conspires against me. I am sure of it. She only wants her dear Benjamin, who could do no wrong. She yearns for him, hoping that she can resurrect him with her words, which are always so sickly sweet, like poison from a delectable red apple. Luckily, I know how to resist her. I will not be put under her spell. I am determined – I am Sweeney Todd.
Ah, the judge, the judge! Of all the demons in hell, we must discuss the judge! Never has there been a man who so freely spewed lies! Lies which destroyed my wife, and may very well destroy my daughter!
My little Johanna...
But you believe me, the silver glimmer of hope that I now hold in my hands. My friend. The years have only been as kind to you as they have me. Yet, you still shine. Not like the aged widow beneath me. Not like Lucy, rotting away in the earth, forgotten. No... you and I are intrepid.
This room is a prison.
And I am its captive.