RipperA Story by Chimpy94Edward Francis could never have predicted the way his life changed. One night, one mistake, he is Jack the RipperFrom the memoirs and diary entries of
Edward Francis 1888 London, Whitechapel, my world, my haunt. For many
years I was content with my life, I was married to a delightful woman: or so I
thought. My wife Elizabeth Francis was a truly beautiful woman, she was slim
and slight with a pretty face and long brown hair usually worn in ringlets. I
loved her with all my heart.Living in Whitechapel London had it’s problems,
being the street of w****s, despite our address we were content. I worked as a
medical man for the clinic. I do confess that though I did love my family I was
truly happy at the clinic surrounded by the sick and the crippled; away from
the duties of a husband, or
father. The commitment of a doctor was different to that of a father it
was as if I was living two separate lives, a completely different person, I
returned at the hour of six each night. The house was large with classic furnishings and
sparse furniture with two bedrooms decorated in much the same fashion. “ yes
Lizzie” “Marcus and Mary Hamilton invited all of us for dinner
tomorrow evening” Lizzie seemed very excited that night, very eager to go to
this dinner, little did I know what a disaster this would lead to. “Of course
darling we shall accept” 8:00pm arrived and in our best clothes we arrived at
the door of Mr. Hamilton Lizzie was on good terms with Mary, they lived only
round the corner, the children were also friends. “Edward, Elizabeth” Marcus
greeted us with Mary,I made the assumption that the children were inside. “Come
in, come in!” Their home was very modest though more decorated than ours was, I
despised much furniture in a home for it gave the impression of being cluttered
and unorganised in my opinion order was essential. I confess Much of that night
passed in a blur, this evening was un-important to me in the scheme of events
that have conspired to change my life I shall forgo explanation of every day
that had no bearing and instead focus on the events that have altered my
situation. It was a Monday typically cold and dreary, the weather seemed
reflected in the Whitechapel atmosphere generally it was cold and miserable,
Many wonder why you would bring up children in such a place, the answer is rather simple, the wages of a
medical doctor are often lacking in decent quality to allow for more dignified
address. Our home was situated right in the centre of Whitechapel, right in the
heart of this den of sin, no respectable man with any dignity dare come here
for fear of mugging and dirtying themselves with the filth of the peseants. I
arrived home that evening rather
early that evening patients were
few in numbers there was nothing to be gained by staying so I headed back home.
Elizabeth was entertaining Mary Hamilton Elizabeth and she appeared shocked at
my entrance as though I should be angry that she was here. Smiling I let them
be. it is a common occurrence for women to invite a companion with whom to
talk, what was unusual was Marcus. My faithful wife Lizzie would not dishonour
her vows, I told myself so my suspicion was put aside, ignored at least without
proper evidence. Nevertheless I kept a strong eye upon Marcus and Elizabeth. Suspicion was simmering below the surface for quite a
while; evidence was there I suppose I never quite saw it. The meetings between
Elizabeth and Marcus however always seem to take place under the supervision of
Mary. Should my conclusions prove true I will be unsure what shall happen.
Tuesday 8th August Marcus is having an affair with my Elizabeth. I came
home at my normal hour, my wife is home as per usual what was not normal was
Marcus in my home without his wife. Alone with mine. “What is this” I called in
an angry tirade how dare Marcus? How dare my sweet Elizabeth? They jumped apart from an
intimate conversation. “Edward please!” Elizabeth pleaded with me but nothing
she could say would absolve her, “Mr Francis Sir know I meant no arm by it” “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” I roared. Marcus Hamilton
vanished that night never to return. After Marcus left I turned to Elizabeth
who was cowering in the corner, “I can never forgive you, but I will not allow
my children to starve you may remain in the house and receive a pension you are
still my wife” and with that I left, vanished, without a second glance. What
was I to do? I supposed that my first stop should be the clinic. “Edward your
not on until tomorrow” I looked at Stuart regret at having to leave my world
but that was dampened significantly by the betrayal from Elizabeth. “I am
leaving Stuart and will not return” Stuart never asked any questions that night
as I left Whitechapel unsure of where I was to end up perhaps I would got to
America leave England for good, leave my past behind. Wednesday 9th August I boarded the ship to America I was still unsure what
I would do once there but that was not important what was important was
escaping from that hellhole. Sunday 13th August I have arrived in America my new home. I disembarked
and looked for the nearest clinic. “Name?” the resident doctor asked me as I tried to apply for a job; I had a
hesitance for just a moment “Francis” Monday 14th August Houses were easy to come by in the New World, a small
sparsely furnished house that comprised of three rooms, a bedroom, kitchen, and
washroom my house happened to be on street of sin. Faced by these evil
creatures that are there only to hurt and manipulate men oh how I hated them.
Every morning and every night I had to pass these sirens, these demons straight
out of hell I do pity those foolish men that have been taken in by these
harpies glad to never have to
associate with never again. “Hey handsome why don’t you come and warm me up
tonight?” one of them called, I stared with a mixture of hate and revulsion
“GET AWAY FROM ME YOU EVIL WOMAN!” I screamed at her, as she took off running
up the street. I spat on the ground before heading into work. The clinic was different to the one in London it
appeared that the Yanks had very little medical or scientific knowledge, much
of their work was experimentation I was free to experiment here not bound by
any laws or religious bars, the Americans were radicals still learning what we
already knew. Back in London I’d have been called a quack and most likely shut
down and chased out of town, yes America was my new home my new world. Walking home I was constantly beseeched by the w****s
set to hurt and ruin me something must be done. © 2011 Chimpy94Author's Note
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