The Ripper

Reminiscing

The night was cold and still with the street lamps glowing dimly. Air that was chill and crisp blew over London silently. I wandered around the east end, quietly making my way on the cobblestone streets. Like most people that had the gall to walk around in this part of town at night, I was up to no good. I was looking for a concubine of sorts, one to lessen the stress that had had been building for awhile. Despite the rather unsavory act I was looking about to commit, I was actually studying to become a doctor. Having gotten the anatomy down and I had even preformed a couple of dissections on the deceased. One could say that I was well on my way to making it in a career of medicine and biology. To an onlooker everything seemed to be going smoothly. But on the inside, it was a completely different story my life, was falling apart. I was losing my edge and composure, as a recent sinking feeling had set in, creating a void in my soul. I had noticed that each day was pushing me closer to cracking. I had been like this ever since my father died three years ago. For he had been the rock I had clung to for my entire life. He had acted like the light in the dark and he was the eye of the storm that was my psyche. Ever since that day I felt myself teetering on a precipice, staring out into the abyss that threatened to overtake me. My mind was crumbling slowly as the foundation that had kept it together was now gone. I stopped in the middle of the road as I thought that I had seen something moving in the shadows of the ally way, nothing. But it was then when I heard the voices began to slowly make themselves known to me once more. Snarling and growling viciously as if they wanted to tear me to shreds. The voices only increased in volume and number as time went on, going from a hushed whisper, to a near scream causing me to double over in pain. I laid there writhing in agony while begging for them to stop. My pleas fell on deaf ears as the voices continued their morbid song, tormenting me further. I tired to block them out but was failing miserably as the demented choir inside my head continued their hymns of torture. After what felt like an eternity, I was able to suppress them once more, pushing them back into the dark confines of my subconscious. There I was, on all fours in the street, as the soft sounds of the night continued on. I was breathing heavily from the ordeal and I found myself thinking back to a simpler time, my childhood to be more precise. Furrowing my brow I wondered how in the hell I had gotten here. How had I fallen so far? What had happened between now and my childhood that had made me this chaotic mass disguised as a person? I thought back to the aforementioned subject, and felt nostalgia wash over me like a wave from the harbor. Feeling my mind wander back to the fireplace that I had sat in front of every night, reading a book to help stimulate my ever growing and curious mind. I also remembered that my father would always sit in his chair and talk to me about the book I was currently reading. This night I had been reading a book titled Anatomy and Autopsy, it had completely in grossed me from the very first page. I had been so deep into the subject matter that the book was so avidly describing that I didn't notice my father call my name.
"Jack." He said with a little bit of exasperation mingling with his normally calm tone.
Finally hearing him I was able to tear my eyes away from the object that had been my sole focus for the past hour and a half.
"Yes?" I asked a bit sheepishly, realizing that he had in fact been calling my name for a substantial amount of time.
"How are you liking that book?" He asked rather curiously.
"I am enjoying it immensely." I replied. "The human body is so fascinating and complex, it surprises me that we know as much about it as we do!" I stated excitedly. He chuckled warmly and I could see mirth appear in those sparkling blue orbs that he had for eyes.
"Do you see yourself becoming a doctor, surgeon or perhaps a mortician? Any of these would fit you quite well, assuming that you are really as interested in the subject as you say you are."
I let these questions swirl around in my mind. "I do." I said after much thought. "This subject just completely engrosses me father. It's such a fine practice that it almost makes me think it an art." 
"Yes I suppose it is. A macabre art but, an art never the less." He finished thoughtfully.
Feeling my eyelids become heavy, I could tell that it was time for me to go to bed. I got up and put the book away sliding the leather bound masterpiece full of scientific wonders that one could dream about, back onto the bookshelf. Making my way to my cot, I gave my father a hug and a kiss on the cheek while we said our good nights. I lay my head on my pillow with sleep calling me to her with a voice like silk and velvet. heeding her call, I fell into a deep sleep, the kind of sleep that leaves you feeling strangely at peace when you wake from it.