There were no more customers that day. I would wait by the window, almost at the point of praying for someone to distract me- strange for a man who had renounced God many a year ago. As I watched through the window, I saw not a soul who even turned a head towards the barber shop. Once or twice a family would go to the pie shop down below, but none would come to me.

I don't know, though, why I bothered with customers any more. I did not plan to kill them. I had all I needed under this very roof. The world could have it's evil ways outside our walls.

My mind tried to wander away from Johanna's words. It was impossible. For all of these years my mind had only ever been able to concentrate on a single thing. It was physically impossible to think about anything else but what Johanna had said to me. I looked a fair amount of times towards the door, wondering whether I should leave. Each time I simply shook my head, pushing the idea to the back of my mind. Yet only ten minutes after, the thought would have fought its way back to me.

"Excuse me?" A gentle voice said, coming from the doorway. I turned to see a young man waiting there, his hand paused at the door where he had just knocked. "Are you still open?"

"Course, lad. Come for a shave?"

"If you don't mind, sir." I nodded, patting the chair with my hand. "Sit, lad, sit."

He smiled cheerfully, taking off his jacket before sitting down.

"I hope this isn't too short notice. It's my girl's birthday today."

"Your wife?"

"No, my daughter." I froze slightly while mixing the lather.

"Really?"

"Yes," he said almost dreamily. "Cute little thing, really. A year old today."

"Always a…special time."

"Have you any daughters of your own? I could swear that I saw a young girl through the pie shop window down below."

I did not say anything for a moment. Instead, I pondered the idea. The word daughter was still strange to me, and being able to claim I had one was even stranger. There was no use in denying I had a daughter- and no point in it either.

"Yes. Sixteen years old."

"That explains it. Not to sound too forward, sir, but she doesn't look that much like you."

"She was blessed with her mother's charm and appeal."

"The same goes for my daughter. Can't say I saw an ounce of me in her. It's all her mother." He chuckled to himself, leaning his head back as I lathered him. "Ah, yes. My darling little Johanna."

I froze. The man opened his eyes quizzically.

"Is there something the matter?"

"No, not at all. It's just…a lovely name."

"Isn't it just? Thought of it myself."

I finished lathering him, and stared at his face for a moment. There was something strange about this man. Something innocent. Too innocent. Innocent, and oblivious. I suddenly realised what I saw in him.

Me.

This man was Benjamin Barker. Not the exact Benjamin Barker, of course, but the Benjamin Barker I had once been. The seed before the truth of the world was rained down upon me. I could even see the glow I had once possessed in his features. As I began to shave him, my temper rose.

Another Benjamin Barker in the world. That was not what we needed. Innocence was for women. Another Benjamin Barker simply endangered those like my daughter, like my Johanna. Who would protect them if their heads were up on some cloud? It was people like this in front of me, sitting under my razor, who endangered my daughter. An near-growl emitted from my throat. I could sense the same madness that used to run through my head each time I had murdered a man.

"Tell me, lad, do you like…poetry?"

"Poetry, sir?"

"Yes. You might not know, but I compose a little poetry myself."

"Really, sir?"

"Yes. Here's a little one I just thought of…well, right now. Roses are red, and violets are blue. Benjamin Barker is dead…"

Swiftly, my razor blade cut through his throat.

"And so are you."

My hand reached for the lever, almost as if it were a natural instinct, and dropped the dead body down to the bake house.

Finished, but not satisfied, I leaned back in the chair once I had disposed the body. I was panting, attempting to catch my breath desperately. Soon, though, the remembrance of what I had just done came to me.

Despite what I had promise myself- promised Johanna without words- I had just killed a man. A father. An innocent. I leaned forward, placing my head in my hands.

Mrs Lovett did not waste time in coming to find me.

"Mr T, yeh didn't!"

"Excuse me, Mrs Lovett?"

"Yeh said yeh weren't gonna kill anyone any more. Yeh promised me, for Johanna's sake."

"I know, Mrs Lovett. I do realise that."

"Then what the 'ell were yeh thinking!"

I sighed, shaking my head.

"I wasn't, then. I wasn't thinking at all."

"Yeh've gotta be more careful," she said tiredly. "If Johanna found out, yeh'd ruin the whole little family plan."

I nodded slowly. Her little family plan.

"I know Mrs Lovett." She breathed out contentedly.

"About that plan, Mr T…"

"What is it now, Mrs Lovett?"

"Well, I was just thinking yesterday, 'bout Johanna being all down in the dumps and all."

"She'll get over it soon enough."

"That's what I was thinking. Then I said to meself, maybe not soon enough. She might be a little lost for a long while. Yeh know what I think the problem is?"

"If you must say."

She knelt down beside the chair, staring at me with a smile on her lips.

"I think it's that Anthony boy. She's been 'oping 'e'd come and get 'er any time soon, 'asn't she? And yeh know what else? I think I know 'ow we can solve that." My interest started to spark.

"Go on."

"We move," she said bluntly. "We'll go and find that 'ouse by the sea I told yeh about. Johanna'd love it, won't she? It'll keep 'er mind off the sailor boy at least. Better yet, we'll be away from 'ere. 'e might still be 'anging round."

I thought over her words. It was true, Anthony may still be wandering around London, waiting for me to slip my guard. It was bound to make her uneasy. And the truth of the matter was that no matter how much I promised myself, I would not be able to stop my murdering until I was away from society. Yet, how long would it be before I turned on my own daughter?

"I can't do that," I said. "Those were your dreams, Mrs Lovett, not mine."

"But, love, it'd be for the best, wouldn't it? She needs a stable 'ouse, don't she? She needs a caring family. Yeh said this was all for 'er, didn't yeh? If we just…thought about it, at least."

"No, Mrs Lovett. I can't." There was silence about the room, until finally Mrs Lovett stood.

"I understand, love. I'll get rid of that boy downstairs then."

"It's best I do that. I'll only be a few more minutes. Just keep Johanna busy." She nodded, and parted.

I scoffed. What a stupid woman to think that I should marry her. The idea was simply ridiculous.

Once I had finally calmed myself and burnt the body and evidence of blood, I watched over Johanna. She was sleeping soundly on the sofa in Mrs Lovett's parlour, and I dared not disturb her. She had been tortured enough for one day without my making it any worse. It was peaceful to watch her sleep. Johanna did not stir, and barely moved. At first it was frightening, but I knew that becoming frightened of her stillness was rather pathetic myself.

It was almost agreed from that moment that she should not leave Mrs Lovett's home. Maybe it was for the best. After all, I don't think she could sleep with the stench of blood.