I'm dreading something. But what is it I have to dread?

My chest felt extremely heavy under the weight of some obscure depression, an unnatural feeling rising in my throat. I furrowed my brow as I tried to think of why I should be feeling this way. Yet nothing has changed; The only thing that happened was when the sailor intruded our home.

My feet ached as I leaned against a hot range mixing around some porridge in a large pot. I hummed quietly, my shaking hand flying around the pot due to my lack of attention.

It hurts. Why do I feel so miserable this morning? Was it the lack of sleep?

I shrieked as the pot I mishandled fell to the floor and hot porridge splattered itself all over my biege dress. I stepped back awkwardly, staring down at the chaos below me.

The stone floor was dressed up in a disasterous layer of food, and the whole of my skirt was now sticky with butter and grain.

"Very nice job, I must say." spoke a sneering voice entering the kitchen doorway. His boots clunked over beside me and he laughed a loud, nasally laugh.

I looked over spitefully to see his ratlike face and plump body, his brown, dusty vest and his large black overcoat seemingly accenting his affront.

"Thank you, sir." I muttered bitterly and reached down to place the pot into the sink. He laughed again, clutching onto his cane in an acrimonious manner. He stood silently, watching me with his small, beetle-like eyes and smiling smugly as I rinsed the pot and snatched a dishrag from the towel rack. I strutted over to the mess on the floor, accidentally bumping into him on my way there.

He grabbed my shoulder and chuckled, "Watch your step."

I gave him another malevolent look, returning to the floor. His oily face smiled in satisfaction and he opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by another's voice.

"Beadle Bamford, we've not time to waste. We have - "

My heart somehow stopped. All feeling was gone. I looked up with wide eyes at the judge. And though he stared up and down at with disgust, my spirit seemed to leap out of my body like air.

"What... what's this mess?" he questioned. He raised one grey eyebrow and his eyes glazed over the scene like he suddenly became bored. I swallowed and looked up at Mr. Bamford, who laughed once more.

"Whifling little twit dropped her breakfast, Sir." Mr. Bamford grinned, tapping lightly on my leg with his club.

The Judge nodded slowly, not seeming to care about what had happened. "Yes, well, clean it up." he ordered. I immediatly obeyed, continuing my work without question.

"Come, Beadle." Judge Turpin nodded to Mr. Bamford, who gave me another light tap on the shoulder with his club before walking out of the room.

I looked up at Mr. Turpin, who pointed at me simply, seemingly trying to remember something he was going to say to me.

I felt my heart leap again, and I blushed. I hated the way I felt when I became like this, but I couldn't contain myself.

"You. Find something else to wear immediately. You're coming with me later after court, so be prepared." he told me. I blushed harder, nodding.

But then I frowned.

"Sir, I apologize, but this is the only dress I own." I bit my lip, expecting him to lose his temper or become angry. His face changed to that sort of expression, but only for a second.

"I see. Well, then..." he thought for a moment, causing an uncomfortable silence.

My heart jumped when he spoke again, "Come with us now, then. You can pick out some material and I'll buy it for you."

I wanted to smile, but I couldn't. "But what of Johanna's breakfast - "

"She's asleep for the moment. It seems she's been up too late..." he gave me that look. The same look he gives when he's either suspicious or contemptuous.

I was sure he knew I was in Johanna's bedroom last night, but I was only too happy for the present to feel too ashamed.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you." I smiled at him, but he only turned away and left the room, telling me to hurry up.

I worked faster than I ever had in my life.

---

I couldn't stop smiling. I felt like a foolish little child who was given a hundred new dolls. I felt like I was on a cloud, waving to everyone below. I clutched tightly to my new clothing material, rubbing my face in it and laughing like some senile lunatic.

It was a deep purple, and the cotton feel stretched so nicely. The black designs of a peculiar shape weren't entirely noticable, but accented the piece so perfectly I could almost cry. I sniffed it. It smelled so fresh... so clean.

It didn't matter to me how I looked at the moment. I was exhilrated; Happy to be alive.

Master Turpin bought me a new dress. I thought over and over, my stomach fluttering with joy each time repeated.

I wished I had brought my sewing kit with me, for sitting outside on the steps of the courthouse soon became boring. But I couldn't have been happier. Even in this bitter cold.

Until I thought of Johanna.

She must be hungry. I thought. My best bet was that she would be fine, but I still worried about her. I knew she was still depressed about that sailor boy, but I couldn't help but be happy about my day.

Shame. Think of Johanna. My happiness soon became guilt as I thought of the round, girlish face frowning upon the world in her sadness. I sighed heavily, wishing she could just be happy for once.

My shame soon changed back into zeal as the Judge and the Beadle came walking out of the courthouse along with some more blokes.

I stood up and wiped down my dusty dress, though it wouldn't have made any difference to anyone. I still had a spill of disgusting, dried porridge on the front of my skirt.

I walked up behind the two men, who were about to depart. I was eager to walk home with Master Turpin, but suddenly, finishing a conversation they were having, he said, "Walk home with me."

I tried very hard to keep from groaning.

Nevertheless, I felt lighter than air with my new, purple cotton cloth. I carried the judge's briefcase and items without complaint and stepped closely behind the two men.

Their large boots clunked roughly against the cobblestone street, Mr. Bamford's cane clicking along in rhythm. I glanced around at the men and women around me. Smiles were not present on anyone's face. I frowned slightly, feeling guilt.

But who was ever happy in London? The smoggy, black air and the anger that built the dilapidated surroundings could only be this place.

"I have news for you, my friend." spoke Mr. Turpin's cold voice. It wasn't much importance to me, foolishly thinking it was about the law.

"Sir?" Mr. Bamford cocked his head to the side, trying to peer into the master's eyes.

We turned a corner, the suspense in his voice dramtically hightening.

"In order to shield her from the evils in this world..." I was attentive then, wondering who in the world he could be talking about. I felt stupid then. Of course it had to be -

"I have decided to marry my dear Johanna."

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Not proud of this chapter. I was up until three a.m. from waking up at nine in the morning... I was so tired, but I wanted to write it sooo bad... TwT It gets better. More detail later. It WILL start to make sense... hopefully...