Yep, I hit the Chapter 10 mark. This chapter took so long to write, and I'm not completely satisfied to do it, but maybe that's because I'm super-excited about the next one. Anywhoo, summer is here (and never been better). So, your Goodie of the Day is...banana sundae! Enjoy your treat(for being such nice readers) and the story.
Sweeney held Rebecca-his daughter-closely. Just hugging her as a father brought waves of pure love and joy, but also guilt and anguish that ripped his stomach. She was so soft and delicate, so child-like, so wonderfully innocent and caring that it killed him inside to think of what could have been. She could have lived a long, happy, wonderful life, but instead died a horrible unjust death. Still, he dreamed of having a daughter exactly like her; She amazed him with her felicity, a feeling he had been absent of all these years. His mind swirled with questions like the sky, which was no longer black and gray with the colors of the silent and suffocating death, but now soft blues and whites, suggesting serenity and peace. He longed to know everything about her, about her heaven, and her likes and dislikes(if she even possessed any), even if only to hear her gentle, melodic voice that couldn't have belonged to anyone else in the entire world. It felt like Benjamin Barker once more, when his days would be filled spending hours playing with Johanna. Johanna. He remembered with sadness that he was never able to see his daughter grown. While he lay in prison, he let his imagination wonder, dreaming of how she looked over the years. Eventually though, hope abandoned him, and his imagination ran cold. Once he became free, he could no longer dream; he lost any idea of what she and Lucy could have looked like. But standing here with Rebecca, living proof that he still had a family, he couldn't help but imagine once more. After what felt like several hours, but very well could have been only minutes, he finally asked a question.
"What is this place?" he asked, thinking it was simple enough to start off with.
"It's heaven for people like me," she said smoothly, her beautiful and unusually un-child-like voice seeming to echo in the otherwise empty atmosphere. He could only assume "people like me" meant the unborn souls, granted an otherworldy heaven. It was a beautiful, soothing place of rest, thought seemingly quite lonely.
"Where are the others, then?" he asked. He couldn't imagine heaven without ever encountering anyone else. Life on Earth was lonely enough for him; he didn't want to remain so in the afterlife-even in hell, his previously predicted destination.
"Oh, you can't see them, because you're a grownup, but I can!" she said excitedly. He strived for another question, hoping to prolong the time he needed with her before she gave him his lesson and departed from him.
"Why are you so…ageless?" he asked. It was the most curious thing he ever encountered, a characteristic that he couldn't help but stare at. He wanted to say she was a child-his child-but she could very well be a short woman based on her mature voice.
"I've never aged. How could anyone know what I might have looked like? I'm ageless because time never placed its mark upon me, and I never grew up," she stated simply. Never grew up. She never knew of the world, of life and love. She never gained wisdom, never knew of the vast knowledge the world possessed, and she never knew him or Lucy. He saw so much of his former self in her, the same simplicity and wonder in her eyes. He couldn't help but be in awe by her unspoiled perfection. He used to scoff at people like Rebecca, people who were ignorant and foolish, but only now did he see how wonderfully easy and happy life was without worries. Still, even though he knew this mindset may work for Rebecca, he knew that he could never live this way; once you learn the truths of the world, you can never go back to the life you knew before.
"What do you know?" he asked.
"About what?" she replied.
"About…life, the world, human beings," he said. He wasn't sure whether he should be happy or sad by her response.
"Well, I know how to speak, and play, and that you and mommy love me," she said smiling happily. "You do love me, right?" she said slightly unsure of herself. It was obvious that Sweeney's question confused her. It seemed like such a foolish, petty question now. What could she have possibly learned if she never existed; she probably only knew enough to properly address Sweeney.
"Of course I do, Rebecca," he said quietly. He paused to think; he did love her, but it was a strange kind of love, the kind of love by association, what binds family together. He never knew her before, yet he found that he loved her. This puzzled him; Sweeney, who was always careful with his relationships with other human beings, never loved someone on the spot, much less liked them. Or had he? Wasn't this the same love he had for Johanna?
Rebecca's eyes brightened as if she suddenly remembered something important that she needed to do. Sweeney knew what was coming, and didn't want it.
"Daddy?" she asked. Sweeney nodded, still adjusting to the idea of being called Daddy.
"Do you like yourself?" she asked. Sweeney felt a lump in his throat so large and so hard that he felt like he could choke. He dug right into the bottom of his soul, trying to find the answer to that question. He thought about all of his endless hours plotting revenge, pacing away in his damned shop, refusing to eat or sleep. He thought of those never-ending haunting memories and nightmares which consumed him and clouded his mind. He thought of his neglect for himself, only preoccupied with his thirst for blood and vengeance. And he suddenly realized how much he hated himself; he hated his existence, felt himself a necessary parasite, worth of Hades and hatred by others and himself. He didn't respond openly with his daughter; he didn't want her to see the monster behind the man. No, she can never know what really happened, he thought. Rebecca seemed confused by his silent response. She wasn't sure how to read his face, so she asked another question.
"Did you like your life?" she asked, delivering a heavy blow of reality. He never asked himself if what he had, what he thought, and what he desired was truly necessary; he always saw his work as necessary puposes to complete his revenge. Now, those purposes no longer seemed important, and all that was left was the true core of everything. Now that Judge Turpin was rotting in Hell, and he had Rebecca and maybe Lucy soon, those past grudges seemed like mere bad memories. He knew, however, that he could never erase his past sins and mistakes. Looking back, he saw his hateful, pessimistic view of the world and its entire people. He saw how he spent his time in chosen misery, relishing in his dark past and even darker present. He felt the lump in his throat tighten, almost strangling him of air. He began to breathe deeper and faster now. He held his head down in shame, refusing to show his tell-all eyes to his daughter.
"Life after Lucy, after Johanna, was only darkness. I was not a good person, Rebecca. You would have been ashamed to call me Father," he said sadly.
"Life didn't have to be sad," she said optimistically.
"It couldn't have been any other way."
"Nope. Don't you remember what your lady friend said?" she asked. Life is for the alive, my dear. His fists tightened in anger. "If you didn't want darkness, you just needed to choose light."
"Rebecca, after everything I've ever suffered, I don't think any one could have been optimistic about life."
"What about other people who've gone through bad times? Many of them have moved on to happy, joy-filled lives." Sweeney shook his head. He noticed that she didn't specify "bad times."
"I'm not like them," he said grimly.
"Only if you think that way; life is short, you need to make the most of it. No one lasts forever," she said. Especially you, Sweeney thought. "From what you've said, you didn't make the most of your life."
"Of course I did, I finished what I meant to do, didn't I?" he said, growing defensive once more.
"I mean, did you really live life well? Did you really make good use of your time?" she asked, and looked at him with a face that said, "Well?" Did he make the most of his life? Of course, he was granted his revenge. But at what cost; didn't he waste time wallowing in misery and unnecessarily killing innocent people? If he had done the deed sooner, wouldn't he still be alive, as well as Lucy? We could have a life, us two. Maybe not like I dreamed, maybe not like you remembered, but we could get by. Sweeney grew frustrated at the sound of Mrs. Lovett's words in his head, especially now that he realized that she was right. He should have finished his mission earlier, and maybe he could have had some piece of mind. Unfortunately, there was no way to ever know the consequences of those choices he never made; he could only accept his mistakes in life. Not only did he not complete what he meant to do without any sidetracks, but he never mended, never healed. It was just like what Rebecca said about those other people who were able to find goodness and love out of all the hatred thrown at them. He knew he should have been more forgiving, but that was no longer an option; time could not turn around.
"Rebecca, look at me; I'm a mess. I let my life and my ideals go to waste. I allowed the Dark Guidance to take over me; my life was a product of falsity and vengeance. It was worthless, I was worthless," he said sadly, his eyes brooding with sadness, black with grief over his lost life.
"There is always forgiveness," Rebecca said.
"Is that what this place is, redemption? What forgiveness can be given to me? I-" he halted, almost saying I murdered people. She could never know. "I was a bad man. I'm not worthy of second chances."
"Of course, Daddy. This place was made for second chances." The slowly walked with each other witout speaking, until finally, Rebecca asked another disturbing question.
"What's one thing you wish you could have done?" she asked. Sweeney pondered this question for several seconds.
"I wish I met Johanna. I wish I could have spoken to her e I'm speaking to you now."
"Would you at least like to see what she looks like?"
"I can't speak to her, or a vision of her or something?"
"You can only talk to people who are actually dead," she said. His heart lightened knowing Johanna was alive and safe. "But I can show you her." In that instant, the swirling mass of shapeless clouds molded to actual shapes, growing dark and gray. With Rebecca at his side, a vision of a large ship appeared before him. He was on the deck, several unknown men surrounding them. They carried out mundane tasks such as checking ropes or moving cases, none of them appeared very appealing. The sky was cloudy and bleak, but a break of warm sunshine shown along the horizon. The cabin door opened and a couple holding each other revealed themselves. He immediately recognized the man as Anthony, holding a small girl with a bonnet covering her face, her whisps of curly, yellow hair blowing in the wind. He smiled knowing she had her mother's hair. Anthony began to speak to her, yet their words sounded indistinuishable, like words spoken underwater. Johanna responded with the same incomprehensible chatter. She quickly lifted her head and kissed Anthony. Her bonnet still covered half of her face, until she turned her face towards Sweeney. His eyes widened, and he felt sick once he saw her face. She was the sailor boy he almost killed.
"Johanna?" he whispered unbelieving. She looked just liked he dreamed she would, gorgeous and pale, but to his dismay, she also appeared sad and broken. She didn't notice him, and continued to converse with Anthony. He realized with horror the last of few words he said to her: forget my face. He was so blinded by darkness that he nearly killed his own daughter. If only he had waited, if only he could have contained his fury. Another truth hit him: Johanna never knew Sweeney was her father. How could she possibly forgive him? How could she live with herself if she knew the truth?
He longed to hold Johanna close, hoping, praying that she would forgive him. Still, she showed no apparent knowledge of his watchful gaze.
"Daddy, its time to go," Rebecca said. No, it couldn't be time, Sweeney thought. He tried to hold Johanna's hand, wanting to connect with his long lost daughter somehow. His resistance was futile; he felt an invisible hand pull him away from the scene. Anthony was clutching Johanna, and Rebecca joined thier side. The singing voices once again cried out, but this time in happy confusion. The sky swirled faster and faster, the chaos escalating and the colors turning lighter and lighter. He reached for them, wanting to spend an eternity longer with them, but time seemed to have other plans for them. Rebecca were smiling sadly, and waving goodbye, her figure, as those of Anthony and Johanna, began to slowly disappea as the churning colors disintegrated their figures. The scene became whiter and whiter, chaos ensuing faster and faster. He glanced behind him to see a pure white door open behind him only to reveal, once more, the endless white abyss waiting for him. He tried to call their names, but no voice was heard. He tried to scream, but it was no use. The door closed in front of him, and they were gone. The last thing he saw was Anthony kissing Johanna, and Rebecca smiling at him.