(A/N: I love Sweeney Todd, but I always wondered what happened in Miss Lovett's childhood.

Yes, I am that much of a dork.)

The shop was cold, smelling faintly of vinager, old milk, and gin. Nellie Lovett sat in the large, overstuffed armchair by the fireplace, staring into the flames. Her wirey dark auburn hair glinted in the firelight, the strands of gray turning platnium in the glow. She put her head in her hands, sighing. Remembering things.

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"Nellie! Nellie! Come 'ere!" A tall, heavy-set woman barked, looking over her shoulder.
"Nellie! Oh where is she, that stu--"
"I'm here, Ma'm!" Nellie called, running as fast as her little 7 year old legs could carry her. She wore a simple gray dress that came a tad bit past her knees, and no shoes. The soles of her feet her scarred and calloused from the sad fact that she always seemed to step on sharp things.

Unknown to her, a boot-clad foot appeared from behind a dooraway. Nellie went tumbling to the cold stone floor, not being able to break her fall, and thus tasting the warm, metallic flavor of blood in her mouth. Out of the shadows, came 17 year old Edmund Turpin. "It's rather sad," The boy sneered. "That a girl of your age cannot look where she's going." Nellie's eyes welled with tears. " You tripped me." She whispered.

"You merely tripped over my foot. None of it is my fault. It's your fault for being so clumsy." Edmund said, rolling his eyes. "Your cruel!" Nellie cried softly, wiping her eyes. Mrs. Turpin yanked Nellie up by her collar. "You idiot girl, calling my son cruel? He has more potential than you at everything." She slapped Nellie across the face, causing a dribble of blood to trickle out of her mouth. "You'll be here for the rest of your life. Your lucky I took you from the orphanage in the first place, you wretch."
Nellie slowly stood up, teetering on her feet. "Wha-what did you want me to do, Ma'm?" she said, holding back tears.

"Go find things to fill our pies. Now." Mrs. Turpin commanded. Nellie blinked, and took the knife off of the table, despite the fact that she could barely reach it, and grabbed a large potato sack, pulling it off the hook, and going out into the night.

She walked out into the alleyway, the cold making her shiver. She saw a rat scuttling along. She came up behind it, and grabbed it by the nape of it's neck. When it tried to bite her, she raised the knife and slit it's throat, blood covering her arm, and dropped it in the sack.

This usually went on for hours at a time. It was her job to get the sack filled to the brim with victims. The time spent looking was considerably less if she found a couple of feral cats. When she came back to the pie shop, she looked terrifying. A blood-stained knife in her hand, her forearms drenched with blood, a blood splotch on her cheek. Not to mention her blood-soaked dress, and the large potato sack. It looked as if she had just committed a horrible massacre.

And when you think about it, she had.

"Damn you, girl! Getting your dress dirty like that. You'll have to wear it inside out! Now go, wash!"

Nellie nodded obediantly, and walked into the washroom, grabbing a sponge and running it down her forearms and legs, not saying a single word. She wiped the splotch of blood off her cheek, looking into the dirty mirror, a small tear rolling down her face and dropping to the floor.

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Nellie sighed, remembering that time.

"'Scuse me, mum?" a small voice called out from the doorway.

She turned around. "Toby, dear." She smiled, walking up to him. "Are you alright?" She asked, ruffling his hair.

"Yes, mum. I just wanted to ask for some gin. Can't go to sleep, y'see."

Nellie smiled. She handed him a glass, and filled it up with gin.
"Go to sleep, love." She whispered, kissing him on the top of his prickly head. "Thank you." He said, putting the glass to his lips.

Nellie smiled. A sad smile, but a smile none the less.

(A/N: That's the first chapter, I suppose. Please review, read, favorite, all the things that every writer wants!)