Through the Mirror {Watty's 2017}

Morning Dew

Year: One thousand eight-hundred eighty-six. December 15th.

A few days have passed since the murders in central London. I'm scared, anxious, nervous, feel like I'm being watched. I write this in early morn, but today I feel I am to sit in the grass of the morning dew to relax. To regain myself, my sanity. God, I can only pray for Henry, the society, and that his personal assistant may be safe. Personally, his assistant, Mr. Edward Hyde makes me a bit...uncomfortable, but I must respect him and Henry's choices. Maybe I can find a good book to read, something to do, maybe take a nap in the sun. I'm quite unsure, but I know my next visit to my father is next Wednesday. I visit every Wednesday to check up on him, because despite everything he's done, I still love him. But today is today, not next week. I will be writing this evening.

~Dr. Robert Lanyon ("Dr. Lanyon's Private Diary")

     I sigh as I watch the sun rise, how beautiful it was. I smile at it, feeling a good vibe come from it. I held a book in my arm, a rather large one in fact. I could hear the sounds of birds chirping, things in town seemed to settle down, because apparently hardly any trouble had been committed in the past three months, but all of sudden, around thirty five murders, not counting the hundred murders of the arson in one night to morn. Like this evil were to strike at any given moment, and perhaps the killer was planning this very skillfully during those three months. I didn't even want to think about it. My personal butler came to me, though it was bright and early, with a tray. On the platter was a pot and a cup for tea.

"Your tea, doctor. I've made lemon balm and chamomile tea, whichever you prefer. They are both for stress relief."

"Thank you, I'll take either, it doesn't matter to me, I do not mind either."

"Yes sir, I'll be right back with it."

     I watch him leave with a smile. I always didn't mind talking with him, he made pleasant conversations. Though, I'm unsure if he gets uncomfortable with my presence. I sit on my bed, still in the clothes I'd slept in. But minutes later, I see my butler walk in with hot tea in the pot that rest upon the platter. I see him pour some into a glass mug and I can smell the chamomile. He smiles at me and I smile back, watching him approach me with the cup of tea resting on a small matching glass plate. As it was given to me, I take the plate out of his hands and dismissed him. The tea was left in my room if I'd wanted more. I lift the plate with the tea to my face, breathing in the scent. I exhale with a sigh before I bring the cup to my lips and take a small sip.

Just the way I like it too.

     I smile to myself, having a good amount of two cup fulls of tea. I call my butler, Carlos, up to my room.

"Thank you, the tea was beyond perfection."

"It's a pleasure, sir."

"A pleasure and luxury of mine to have you, Carlos."

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, no more are you needed, you are dismissed."

"Yes sir."

     I watched him leave and felt a part of me disappear. I shake off the queer thought and shut my door to begin undressing and redressing in my day clothing. I decide today was going to be casual, so I slip off my clothing, letting them pool at the floor around my bony ankles. I go to my closet and grab a white shirt, slipping it onto my shoulders and buttoning it from the bottom button up. I slip on a pair of black pants, tuck in my shirt, and put on a belt. I look in the mirror, sigh, then go to my dresser. I'd already put on a pair of socks. I grab a white tie, wrapping the first part around my neck before tucking in the frilled lacing of the actual tie part. I look in the mirror, and though I am not one to be vein, but for such casualties, I appeared rather handsome.