Hello! Sorry for being so late with the updates, and sorry that this chapter isn't the best, i just really wanted to update haha. Please enjoy, and review! if anyone is still reading these haha.

Haunted Dreams

Chapter 33

It's been three hours since Nellie entered this party. She's been walking around, picking at the food, silently watching people. Her head pounded immensely, she felt lost, or like she didn't belong here. Sweeney stayed with the other men, talking about God knows what. She took a peak in his direction for the hundredth time—he looked bored out of his mind. She wished he would come spend time with her. He wouldn't even look in her direction, every time she got close he would shoo her away, why was he avoiding her?

Here's the source of the headaches. Her husband's behavior, he's so bloody unpredictable! She huffed air out her nose in frustration. We're at a bloody gala and he wants to hang around a bunch of old men, that's unlike him, in fact it's unlike him to want to even be at a party. And Nellie went through all this work to surprise him with her attire.

Everyone else looked at her appearance in awe, except the one person she wanted to look at her in awe—her bloody husband! She looked down at her light-blue, silk dress, covered in lace. The color really made her face glow. And her hair. . . her hair was straight. Do you know how long it took her the tame those unruly curls of hers? A long ass-time! And her husband, love of her life, didn't even mutter a single compliment.

She was about to go over there and force it out him. Flaunt her goods in his face until he admits that she looks amazing. Only problem was that she didn't feel amazing, the corset hiding her small baby bump ached along with her throbbing temples, and that couch in the corner over there by the food table looked so welcoming. But this is a bloody gala so she wanted to dance with her man!

With a determined sigh, she made her way towards him, again. She stood there awkwardly behind him, a yawn escaping her mouth, she didn't even register what the other men were talking about. The only words she picked up was, politics, taxes, whores. She cleared her throat and tapped on the back of Sweeney's shoulder. He actually looked a little relieved to see her.

"Care for a dance?" He muttered.

A smile spread on her lips as she nodded her head.

They walked into the middle of the dance floor. Nellie's excitement of dancing faded quickly when Sweeney purposely spun her around too fast during the waltz, making her head and vision swim in protest.

"Ugh" she moaned sickly.

"Oh sorry, did I make you dizzy." He said huskily in her ear. His voice dripping with sarcasm.

She looked him in the eyes. A dark look of amusement lingered in them. "What's wrong with you?"

He dipped her, and spun her around again. When she faced him, her face was green. He chuckled and continued this fast pace twirling performance they had going on here. Until Nellie couldn't take anymore. She scanned the ballroom for the exit to the hallways where the bathrooms were, so she wouldn't vomit on the marble floor.

"Need to use the restroom?" he asked, again in that husky, sarcastic tone. She glared at him as they walked into the hallways away from the crowd of people.


He held a tight grip on her arm, her dizziness had already subsided and she didn't need the bathroom anymore.

"Sweeney?" She demanded, his grip on her arm tightened as he dragged her along the hallway, far away from people. "What's gotten into you?" She asked him. Something was wrong with him, his mood and behavior was angry, deadly.

They turned another corner where he slammed her into the wall. He pounced on her like a cat to its prey, trapping her between the wall and him. She thought he was going to kiss her aggressively, maybe drag her into the bedroom across the hall. Maybe he did appreciate her appearance. She smirked and leaned in to kiss him.

He moved his face out of the way. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He spat in her face.

She looked at him confused. "I thought you dragged me out here to kiss me, or. . ."

He backed away from her, flashing a dangerous look. "You think this is funny? To torture me like this?" His expression turned quickly from rage to pain. While Nellie's expression remained confused and frightened.

"I don't know what you mean." She whimpered slowly. "Sweeney?"

"Your dress? Your hair?" He asked in disgust, gesturing to her attire.

"Do you like it?" She smiled.

He laughed, a dark, evil, villainous laugh.

A sharp pain struck her cheek sending to the carpet below. She looked up at him in shock, hand on her cheek where he just slapped her. He grabbed her by her shoulders, lifting her up off the ground to his eye level.

"You look like her!" He screamed. "You look like Lucy! You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

Nellie started crying in fear. This was just like that night in the bake house, when he almost threw her in that God forsaken oven. "Sweeney, no. I didn't. . ." just like that night, she couldn't get the words out. She was too damn afraid of him.

"Didn't you!?" He screamed louder.

She shook her head, tears pooling down her face, dripping to the ground from her chin. He dropped her back on the floor.

"I'm sorry." She pleaded. "I didn't plan to look like her, I didn't think I could even pull off looking like her."

"Well you succeeded." He mumbled darkly.

"I didn't want to look like her!" Nellie demanded screaming now herself.

"Then why?" He shouted.

She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. "I wanted you to think I was beautiful."

They stayed there in silence for what felt like an eternity, then he slowly crouched down to where she was on the floor, grabbed her chin to make him look like her. "Listen to me Nellie."

She started sobbing and couldn't stop.

"Shh, Nellie, listen to me." She looked up into his eyes, the tears blocking her vision. "Don't you ever try to look like her again. You are not her. Never was, never will be. She is more beautiful than you, and no matter what you do that will never change." His tone started soothing, but starting to grow ferocious. "She will always be more beautiful than you. I will always love her more than you." His voice cracked on that last statement. But he got the message out.

Nellie crying subsided. She stared at the carpet below her. She heard him walking away, opening the door back to the ballroom, and left her there with the silence.

Nellie leaned the back of her head against the wall. She felt numb, numb to the world, her husband's words ringing in her ears. The more she replayed them in her head, her sense of feeling returned. The tears came again and they didn't stop.

She picked herself up and went into the bathroom behind her. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Sweeney was right, she did look like Lucy. Her hair had started to curl itself back up, so it now looked wavy, and thanks to all the crying she's been doing her makeup was smeared down her face. She turned on the faucet, ripped the hair piece holding the top of her hair back and threw onto the floor, then she washed her face, turned around and dipped her head into the sink. Once all her hair was wet the curls immediately returned.

Nellie wasn't ready to go out to the party again. Seeing people was the last thing she wanted right now. Especially seeing her husband. She was so upset with him that she couldn't even speak. He slapped her, actually slapped her across the face and scream at her just because she wasn't his precious Lucy. For once, for once in Nellie's life she wanted to feel beautiful. No man has ever told her she looked great, not in the way she wanted them too anyway. It's true she did proposedly make herself look like Lucy without even realizing it, but is it wrong for a woman to want to feel beautiful.

She went inside the bedroom across the hall, realized to find it empty and with a closet filled of dresses. She found a simple crimson red, long sleeve gown and pulled it over her head, laying her Lucy-look-alike dress on the bed. It's not stealing, it's a fair trade. She looked at herself in the mirror, in her eyes she didn't look beautiful but at least she felt better. And without that corset the baby felt better as well. Her corkscrew curls were everywhere, but she didn't care to bother to arrange them in any fashion. She sat down on the bed, God she just wanted to go home. Seeing Sweeney was something she didn't want at the moment though. But what if she just went home alone, she knows the way. And once she got home. . . what if she left? Just walk out the door with her babies tonight, never face the bastard who broke her heart for, what, the fourth, fifth time? She stared at the ceiling and thought about all that's happened to her in the past few years. She thought that since she left Fleet Street she was the happiest woman on earth. But now. . . that statement doesn't seem to be true anymore. The real time she was the happiest was when she was younger with her father and sisters.

Her heart has been shattered in the hands of Sweeney Todd so many times now. Silent tears never stopped rolling down her face. She sat up on the bed—confident. She was tired of shedding tears. She stood up on her feet. She was tired of being afraid.

Her mind was made up, she was leaving this party—right now. She was going home without her husband—right now. And she may, just may, leave Mr. Todd behind, for good.

i got plans in my mind, don't you worry!