Mary was exhausted. She couldn't remember a time that she had been this tired. She felt like she had been running forever without any time to think or breathe. But she still needed to work. It was 11pm and she had a good two hours still to get several more customers before she dropped from exhaustion.
It's been hard for Mary to get tricks the past couple of days. Four of her friends have been murdered by some lunatic that has been roaming the streets since August. Men have been keeping their distance from her. It's as if she has developed some disease or is viewed upon as a bad omen. She is sick of it all. If she could just sit and rest. If only for a few minutes. All she does is walk these streets day after day after day.
She wouldn't end up like her other friends, Annie, Catherine, Elizabeth, and Mary who didn't have the luxury of being alive. She was going to be somebody. Someday. She would get out of this hellish life-get out of Whitechapel forever. The Ripper wasn't going to get her. She was somebody. She wanted to live.
Mary decided she would go to Ten Bells to have a pint and something to eat. She couldn't face any customers just yet. And she was feeling lightheaded probably because she hadn't had enough money to buy food for two days.
After she leaves Ten Bells, she meets with several customers then drags herself home to her 12'x10' room at Miller's Court off of Dorset Street. Mary is scared. She doesn't want to go to her room tonight. She doesn't want to be alone. And she has felt for awhile now that someone has been following her. She walks through her door and collapses on the bed. Sleep at last.
One day men will look back and say I gave birth to the Twentieth Century
-Jack the Ripper, 1888
Note: I was inspired to write this post after the first stop of the Serial Killer hunt. I've only made it to the first stop because, to be honest, it kind of grossed me out. So you have been warned-this hunt is not for the faint of heart! Most of the above I made-up with a couple of true facts thrown in.
What fascinates me about the Jack the Ripper case is not the murders nor the fact that they never found the killer, but the Whitechapel district. There were approximately 80,000 people living in Whitechapel in 1888 which is shocking because the area is quite small. You can almost imagine the horrific conditions as you're walking through the Soul Productions sim (so much so that I just wanted to take my pics and get the hell out of there!). If you would like more info you can see the movie From Hell or read the graphic novel of the same name.
And now, I will close the book on Jack the Ripper and hopefully never think about it again!
skin: (fd), Bird Skin
hair: Clawtooth, Oh Juju!
dress: Rotten Toe, Love Prison Dress
shoes: lassitude & ennui, Imogene ankle boots
1 comment:
Very nice photos,
A great honour to a great lady,
Mary Jane 'Ginger' Kelly.
Rest In Peace.
Post a Comment