Through the Mirror {Watty's 2017}

Cantus Maeroris

December ninth, year one thousand eight hundred eighty-six.

I couldn't believe my eyes as I watched the horrendous things Edward did. He murdered my dear friend, James Enfield. I will be attending to the funeral today, despite what Edward says. Then there is a dinner party I am scheduled to tend to today at 18:00 sharp. Mr. Enfield was Gabriel's cousin, and I'm sure he will need lots of consolation. But, I must say, Mr. Utterson is a good lawyer, but rather oblivious to my situation with Edward. But that is good, if he doesn't know, that is one burden off my shoulders.

~Henry Jekyll

     The funeral is at 12:30. Once that is over with, I will walk Gabriel home and go home myself to get ready for Robert's dinner party. Really, it is just under circumstances that the murders had happened the previous night, and just the early hours of the black dawn. I sigh as I look around, as I check my pocket watch, I see it is almost the eleventh hour. I get ready and ignore Edward's babbling, gibberish, and boasting.

"Oh quiet you." I'd say. "I've no time for your nonsense, and don't try to pitch a fit knowing I have to go to a dinner party tonight." Edward began to whine like a child.

"But I don't want to go!"

     I groan and roll my eyes. I open the doors of my room and exit my living space, waltzing down the hallway and towards the kitchen area to see Rachel making breakfast as usual.

"Oh! Good morning, doctor!"

"Good morning Rachel, how are you?"

"I'm quite alright, doctor. I hadn't seen you the other day, were you okay, sir?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."

No one else was in the room where it happened.

      I remember when I had first transformed, all of the scientists had crowded in front of my locked doors as I'd scream and beg for them to leave. That I was fine. That was where the lying started. No one knows how our game is played. No one knows the hand I've dealt. No one knows how I've laid London to my feet. No one knows that I will defeat. No one knows the art of trade, how the evil is made.

     I saw how the twelfth hour came rather quickly and proceeded out of the door to the funeral-home where Gabriel was most likely already located. I saw how the carriage awaited me and soon got inside, seating myself and soon, off it took. And right on time, I arrived. I left the carriage and told Poole, my carriage driver, to be back when the funeral was over.

     I continue through the room and look around, seeing Mr. Utterson was clearly upset, mourning over his dear cousin. I sigh and walk towards the large man, a bit plump but no too if you looked at him. I rest my hand on his shoulder, seeing him turn to see me, obviously a bit off guard. His face was pale, mine would be as well if a mass genocide just went about and it so happened to kill your dear family member. Though, I've got nothing to fear other than myself. Gabriel hugs me and hesitantly, I embrace him to give him comfort. What was most likely to happen  was, the priest was going to say his words, bless the body, bless the family, then the family members, and friends, were to come up one by one if they wished, and say their last words before the casket was closed and exported to the burial site. 

"He's in a better, safer place, Gabriel. In your own time, may you see him again."

"Thank you, Henry, you are a good man.."

"Anything for my dear friend, sir." I reassure.

     He lets go of me and the priest comes. Gabriel, myself, and the rest of the people in the room take a seat as he speaks.