Peace. That was what she finally felt. The pain had come and gone again, followed by an endless numbness but now everything was quiet, even peaceful.
Helen knew that it would be over soon. She could forget all the memories of John. Let them all go. It weren't the bad ones that caused her pain. It were all the happy moments they had together. The memory of the fragment of love they once had.
All Helen ever wanted had been in her range and all she had to do was to reach out and take it. She had never wanted perfection in life, never looked for it, she just wanted a little piece of heaven. Was it too much to ask for?
A family?
A place to call home?
Nothing more than just a feeling of belonging?
John had given her everything she ever wanted but never dared to ask for. For a short moment everything was perfect. The time at Oxford was the happiest of her life.
She could study. Learn so many new things.
She had friends: friends who didn't laugh at her when she talked about science and got little stars shining in her eyes.
Society was something Helen had never really cared about. The world had more problems than just the newest gossip like who had an affair with whom or who wore the prettiest dress. Although Helen sometimes had to attend a few social events, she had never really fit in there perfectly. Helen's interests were far too different from those of the other women.
But together with her friends from Oxford she became involved in society again and learned a few important guidelines. People who changed the world had always been involved in society. It was simply the easiest way to get the attention of influential people.
Helen pushed the memory of all the parties and social events she had attended aside.
It didn't matter anyway. Nothing mattered anymore to her.
James was the only one left for her but he would be better off without her. In the last few weeks she hadn't been really helpful in their work. She was distracted and always somewhere else with her thoughts.
James would take care of her Sanctuary. It was the only thing in her life which she was proud of.
Helen observed herself in the big looking glass while she undressed. The thought that John had touched her skin, touched her whole body and made her enjoy it, made her sick.
The murderer of so many innocent women had touched Helen and it made her feel dirty. No matter how often she took a hot bath with lots of soap, scrubbing her skin, she could still smell him on her.
Helen shivered. It wasn't for the cold but simply for the strength this memory still held on her.
The water was steaming hot when Helen entered the tub, still wearing her white corset. It felt good. Again it seemed to be a good way to leave this world. She had thought about taking pills or even using a gun but both would kill her too fast. What she needed was time.
Time to rethink her life and let her last thoughts linger on the man she would never stop to love but also who she wished to never have met. She wanted to fade away slowly, not to be blown away like a flower in a storm.
Helen sat a few minutes motionless in the hot water.
Her father was lost, James would overcome her death and society would stop talking about her suicide after a few days. No one was left to ask her to stay, to beg her not to do it.
Life wasn't worth living anymore. Not to her. She was alone.
Helen looked at her bare arms and touched all the small scars on her left arm. She had never understood how anyone could hurt themselves until the day she did the first cut herself.
Sometimes the physical pain was easier to take than the pain in her heart.
The pain ripped her heart apart and made her nearly lose her mind.
With every cut on her arm she was able to think clearer. Breath again.
Every cut gave her a little fragment of herself back. The person she used to be before she met John Druitt.
Everything she had in her life wasn't enough anymore… Wasn't worth living for.
Helen didn't want this life anymore. She didn't want other people to still see her as John's fiancé. She didn't want to be connected with this monster at all. But that was exactly the problem, wasn't it? He would always be a part of her and whatever she did she would never let go of him totally. Couldn't.
Naturally Helen had seen the bodies of people who had committed suicide but she had never understood why people actually did what they did, until now.
Now she knew how it felt to be broken, to lose everything she ever wanted. She wasn't able to hold on anymore. All she and John had ever connected was lost.
Helen carefully touched all the small scars.
It was his fault.
After all Helen was just another victim of John Druitt. One among many.
Taking the small knife with the sharp blade which she had prepared specially for tonight from the edge of her tub, she led it to her arm.
It hurt much more than she had imaged when she cut the first vein open. But with the pain she allowed herself to think of him. Think of the man she used to know. Used to love. Still loved. Her whole body arched from the pain in her heart. Every nice word John ever said to her where like stiches in her heart while the water turned slowly red.
The first cut hurt.
The second cut reminded her that there was nothing left in her life that was worth living for.
And with the third cut Helen started to cry.
Her tears were for all the things she had thought she would never lose. But she had lost them. She had lost her heart, her love and her ability to trust. Helen lost so much of herself and she would never get it back because a part of her would always be with John. Connected to him. Inextricable.
Helen wondered if John spent his nights crying in his bed like she spent hers. Thinking about what he had done.
Helen should have never gone to Oxford. She should have married a man. A good man: whom her father should have chosen, with a big house and a good income. She should have lived like all the other girls in her time. Maybe she would have had children.
Then she would have never met John Druitt, never fallen in love with him and she wouldn't have ended up the way she was now. He had taken everything from her.
Helen dropped the knife. Her hand was shaking, she was shivering. Feeling feeble.
She could already feel how life left her while the water changed its colour into a dark shade of red.
Everything around her became quiet and she could feel her heart pounding fast. Soon it would be over.
Her whole body hurt. Helen thought about John. All the pain he had inflicted on her. All the happy moments they had together, they were the happiest in her whole life.
Helen remembered the very first time she saw him at Oxford.
She remembered the first time he appeared in her dreams, all those hours when she sat in class but couldn't concentrate because all her thoughts were with John.
The first time they went out together to the theatre; the first time they had dinner together.
The first time their hands had touched by accident.
The first time they kissed.
The memories faded and the room started to darken.
Helen was sure that the water was still hot but she was feeling cold. So cold.
She remembered all the sunsets they had seen together.
All the times she had looked into his eyes and forgot everything else that was going on around her.
The first time she woke up next to him in the morning. How he had looked at her. His eyes full of love.
The feeling she had when he took her in his arms.
Every time they laughed together.
He had been everything to her, the centre of her life.
Helen closed her eyes, slowly slipping away but her last thoughts were with John.
The man she would have done everything for. Who will always own her heart.
The man she hated so much but will never stop loving.