August 30th, 1888
London, England, United Kingdom
As I was walking down the street towards my house from the market yesterday, I was met with a strange sight. A man, dressed in rags and a worn out hat grabbed my forearm and looked me in the eye with a stare that could paralyze your soul. My sister would normally say it was a terrifying experience, but I find it more curious than terrifying. As I struggled to pull my hand away, he spun me around and pinned me to the wall. I tried to scream, but it came out as a whisper. Then he leaned closer and whispered something into my ear.
“Now listen to me, lass,” he said, his raspy voice chilling me to the bone. “You aren’t safe in London anymore. Something is coming, and we don’t want to see a pretty lady like yourself harmed because of it, now do we?” He lets me go and shoves me out of the alley. “Heed my warning,” he said, “You may never see your future if you stay here. Leave!” What did he mean by that? I didn't know at the time and I couldn’t tell if he was an old astrologer or just completely insane. Most likely insane. I would later learn, however, that he wasn't wrong.
I called for a carriage to take me home to the outskirts of the city. When I arrived back at my house, I slammed the door behind me and breathed a sigh of relief. My sister, Sarah, came running over to me.
“Clarissa! Why were you out so late?” she asked. I frowned at her. Late? It’s not even 9 o’clock yet.
“Nevermind that, Sarah, I need to talk to you,” I responded.
“What is it? Let’s discuss it over dinner, it will be easier that way. I was going to visit Aunt Victoria tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“That sounds good. Should I wear that hair clip I got today from the market?” I asked. She smiled and nodded and turned away back down to the dining room. I then went to my room and changed into a long red and white dress and a silver, diamond encrusted crown to go into my curly reddish hair. My mother always said I looked good in diamonds. I walked down to the dining room where I found Sarah already seated at the table. I sat next to her as we ate, and she has noticed that I was not really in the mood to chat. She tried talking to me, but I simply nodded and forced a smile.
“What is it?” she asked me finally, after a very long and very awkward silence.
“I’m afraid, Sarah,” I said.
“Afraid, you? I don’t think so, Clarissa. You hardly ever get scared of anything,” she responded.
“Well, this is one of those times where I am afraid,” I said in a hushed voice. She stared at me, her brown eyes full of worry.
“I don’t understand. Why?” she asked me. I then explained to her about the market and my run in with a probable madman. She just looked at me, confused and somewhat fearful.
“That’s why I am a little on edge,” I explained. She just smiled. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting.
“It’s probably nothing. Just some insane madman running around telling girls like you to run away.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said, taking a bite of bread. After supper, we went to the library, so I could show her the book I just finished. I knew that something is amiss, but I don’t have anyone to trust. After a while, Sarah went up to bed and I was left alone in the eerie, candle lit room. I went up to bed around 11 o’clock but was woken up a few hours later to a banging on the front door. I jumped out of bed and ran down to the front hall of the manor. The rain from outside pounded on the windows, making a sound that deafens me as I opened the door a crack. I saw two royal guards standing in front of the door and I opened it all the way.
"Can I help you?” I asked as the two of them looked at me.
“Yes, are you Lady Cecile?” he said.
"No, I'm Lady Clarissa. What's this about?"
“We were instructed by Her Majesty, the Queen, to give you the notification that there has been a murder in an alleyway on the East Side of London. In Whitechapel. The victim has not yet been identified,” one of them informs me. I heard a gasp behind me and turned to see Sarah.
“Why would our Aunt Victoria tell us this at 4 o’clock in the morning?” Sarah asked.
“She wanted to make sure you were both protected. She is sending a carriage tomorrow at noon to collect you and bring you to the palace at Windsor for protection until the threat has passed. Thank you, ladies, for you cooperation,” the second guard told us, as the two of them walked out of the door. I shut the door behind them and turned to Sarah.
“Well, we may as well pack," Sarah told me. I stood there for a moment, shocked. The man was right. I knew something wasn’t right. I needed to find more information, or at least figure out who the victim was and why she was targeted. And why Aunt Victoria wants us to meet her at Windsor for protection? Sadly, my questions were never answered.
"I'm glad she thought about protecting us, far better than Father did after Mother died," her voice snapped me out my thoughts. She was referring to our mother’s death, almost 16 years before. Sarah and I were 2 years old at the time, and my father refused to tell us for a long time after my mother’s death that she was indeed dead. It was a fairly nasty shock for us when we found out. Now that our father is gone, we were taken in by my mother’s sister, our Aunt Victoria. I have always been very fond of Aunt Victoria, but you better know her by a different name than ‘Aunt Victoria’. You may know her as Queen Victoria, Queen of the United Kingdom, Ireland, and the Empress of India. Yes, it is a very long title and takes a while to say, which is why Sarah and I just call her ‘Aunt Victoria’. After my mother died while we were living in Germany, my father sent my sister and I back to England to grow up there while he continued to run Langenburg alone. We never actually got to see him again until my Aunt told us of his death. That wasn’t very pleasant either.
As I walked back up to my bedroom, I heard Sarah behind me, almost sobbing. I turn around to find her being comforted by her ladies maid, Cora. I stared at her as she walked into her room across the hall from my own. I pulled my trunk from under my bed and began to throw a few dresses and other necessities into it. I ended up going to bed around 5 am, and waking a few hours later. I looked at my clock on my side table to see 7:33. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and squint at the bright sunlight that entered through the window. When I went downstairs to breakfast after a long and troublesome night, I saw my sister wasn't there. I pulled Daniel, one of the footmen, aside.
“Daniel, have you seen my sister?” I asked him. He shook his head.
“No, Milady, I haven’t. She hasn’t come down to breakfast this morning,” he responded. I smiled, thanked him, and went upstairs to Sarah’s room. I knocked on the door.
“Sarah?” I called out. The door suddenly opened and I saw Sarah standing there, her eyes puffy from crying and her cheeks were wet.
“Sarah? What is it? Why are you crying?” I asked. She just slammed the door in my face. I stood there for a few moments, bewildered.
“Okay, fine! I suppose I am going to Aunt Victoria’s without you!” I said, yelling through the door. She doesn’t respond so I just pull a pin out of my hair and pick the lock of the door. It clicked and I swing the door open. She spun around on her bed and stared at me, wiping her eyes in the process.
“How did you get in here?” she asked, and I noticed she hasn’t brushed her hair yet. It was just sitting upon her head in a mess of curls and tangles.
“Just so you know, Sarah, never lock your door. I can get in easily,” I said, holding up the pin. “Why are you hiding in your room? Aunt Victoria’s coach will be here in less than an hour!”
“I found out who the victim was,” she told me.
“Who? And how did you find out before I did? I am the one who reads all the mystery novels so I am actually the one who should be investigating this,” I said. She rolled her eyes. “Who was it?” I asked. Sarah wiped her eyes and cleared her throat.
“My friend from the market, Mary Ann Nichols. She was the one who I kept in touch with because I was going to offer her a position here. But she will never get to take it,” she said, sobbing into her hands. I stared at her as she continues to sob. Why would someone target Mary Ann? She was a very nice person. I went and sat down next to Sarah on the bed.
“Hey, you have every right to be sad about Mary Ann’s death. But you have to keep your mind in the here and now. Otherwise, other innocent lives could be lost,” I tell her. I realized how much I sounded like a heroine during a battle in one of my books. She nodded and rose to her feet just as I reached the doorway. “Get ready to leave. The carriage will be here soon and I doubt Aunt Victoria would want you to be wearing your nightgown to Windsor,” I said, turning out and away from the doorway. After about half an hour, the carriage arrived and Sarah and I traveled for a few hours over bumpy cobblestone streets until we reached Windsor castle. When we arrived, the footmen took our trunks off the back of the carriage while we headed towards the doors of the palace. My Aunt Victoria came running down the front steps of the palace towards us and hugged Sarah first and then me, ushering us inside. Once inside, she sent us up to our rooms and then told us to meet her in the dining room around 6. We had arrived at 5, so we had about an hour to pass. I decided to go for a walk around the palace until I walked past my Aunt’s office. I heard her talking with some officials inside. I crouched by the door, trying not to be seen or heard, and listened.
“Your Majesty, the police enforcement have received an anonymous letter after the murder of Mary Ann Nichols, age 33,” one of the men said. I saw him hand my aunt a letter.
“Who signed the letter?” my aunt asked.
“We don’t know, Madame. It isn’t an actual name, just a nickname,” the other man said.
“What is the name?” my aunt asked again. The name the man says would haunt me forever and I know it will never be forgotten by history.
“Jack the Ripper.”
The End
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125,010 Literary Works • 672,839 Reviews
Interesting excerpt. The scene construction was well-executed, and the whole thing was easy to read. However, I have two major qualms. One; the language is WAY too modernised--I would recommend reading more Victorian novels to get a better feel of how 19th century English was spoken. Two; Clarissa and Sarah need more depth.
See mine #800080 ">notes and #0000FF ">edits below:
Overall, you have a lot of raw talent; I can see it. But...well...see above.
Thank you for the comment. This piece does have a lot of errors, mainly because it's an old piece that I fixed up. This was originally a fluff piece for my English class at school and did well then, but wouldn't make much sense as an actual published piece. I only published it on the site to see if the storyline would grasp anyone's attention.
Again, Thank you for your comment, it really helps me out.
~Ruby
Before I start--what is Mary Ann Nichols, a prostitute, doing befriending the niece of the Queen in a classist society like Victorian England? Was she not a prostitute when she met the niece of the Queen? Was she a servant of some sort that came across a series of unfortunate events? Or is she not a prostitute at all in this version?
In any case, the second I heard her name the story did fall apart for me. I mean, sure the Queens niece could befriend a passing prostitute, no problem, but it just seemed...improbable. And anyway, anybody who knows the story of Jack the Ripper pretty much figured out who the killer was when you mentioned her name.
But that's a passing complaint. Overall, this was a solid story with great potential and suspense. Your prose is dramatic and lovely, and you tell the story well enough--save for one occasion where you tell the main characters stories instead of showing it, you do a lot of good show, don't tell in here.
Anyway, that was my substantial review. Let's see what else we can do for this, shall we?
Something I've noted in your work is that you have trouble switching between present tense and past tense. What you need there is "He let me go and shoved me out of the alley," since you use past tense a lot more than present.
Again, present tense. Delete this 'has' thing.
That's a bit of a redundant phrase there. Madman will do fine without insane.
Was, not is.
Your, not you.
"Why did Aunt Victoria" is probably what you meant there.
See, this was what I was talking about. You already suggested that her mother's dead, you don't really need to state it twice.
In any case, this was a great piece of work, though it could use a little bit of polishing. Good job.
Signing out,
--EM.
WOW!!! This is amazing! I love it!
Hey,
So I have to say I know lots about Jack the Ripper and have read into the case many many times, so needless to say your story intrigued me. But to get right with it there are mistakes. I would recommend going over it all and reading it again to fix basic grammar errors. I did notice when the main character is thinking something it should be italicized to be clear is is her thoughts. This will clear up any confusion especially since this is written in first person.
"I didn't know at the time and I couldn’t tell if he was an old astrologer or just completely insane."
This part was a bit confusing because why would you come to the conclusion he could be an old astrologer, Why not just crazy? Were astrologers seen as crazy back then because I'm not getting this part.
Another point I would like to add is when characters are talking make sure the conversation is consistent with real life. Like you could imagine two people actually having this conversation. Like when the main character came home I thought at first she was going to be very up set and tell her sister immediately about what happened in the market but then they started talking about hair clips. So try adding in clues about the characters emotions without them having to explain it.
Lastly her sisters friend who is the victim sorry to use the word but is she a prostitute? Because I know all of Jack the Rippers victims were that.So I hope that is touched upon in the next chapter.
To conclude you have a very nice idea and the story has so much potential so just edit lots and you have it made. And everything I say here is just my opinion and you can use it or you don't. It is how every you feel. I hope I could have been a help and have a nice day.
-Zee
Thanks so much for commenting. Also, just note that this was a fluff piece i wrote for an English class I had last year, so I tried to fix it up and upload it. I know that there are a few errors, mainly because my writing style wasn't the same when I originally wrote this. The reason I didn't use italics for her thoughts is mainly because I didn't think I needed to, considering the story is told in 1st person. Also, I am aware that the victims of Jack the Ripper were prostitutes, but since this was written originally as a school assignment, I had to leave it out. I was going to put it back in but thought that since younger readers could potentially read it, I decided against it. Again, thanks for your feedback, it really helps me out a lot.
Okay yeah I understand all of that, no problem.
Awesome, thanks again for the feedback.