Fear Of The Dark

[[SARAH]]

I sighed softly as I sat behind the desk, staring at the wooden door, which kept opening and closing as patients came about their business. I smiled as a heavily pregnant woman came up to the desk.

"Hello madam. Are you here to see Dr Jenkins?" I asked politely, smiling as I held the heavy fountain pen in my hands. She nodded meekly, rubbing her stomach subconsciously. I nodded and pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer next to me, and dipped the nib into the ink.

"I need your name, date of birth and street that you live on ma'am please," I said, looking expectantly at her. She nodded once again.

"Marjory Jones, 14th May 1965 and Dodsworth Street," I nodded as I moved the pen across the page, my hand writing perfectly cursive and elegant, as I'd been taught. I then wrote her details below, stating pregnancy as the main.

"Ok ma'am, if you just want to take a seat and I'll give this to Dr Jenkins and he'll call you when he's ready," I smiled at her. She sat down on the wooden chair that was next to the door as I got up and entered my uncle's office. I handed the sheet to him and he scanned it, nodding thankfully at me.

"Thank you Sarah. You're doing an excellent job for me. If you want to take 15 shillings out of the money for this week, and close the door for me once I've seen to this lady. Make no more admissions," he smiled warmly at me. I nodded and walked back to my seat at the desk, taking out the shillings and placing them into my pouch.

I then set about finishing my work, which involved writing my uncles analysis of the patients he'd seen today. Thankfully after working for him for 2 years, I'd learnt medical terms and the slang, and so was able to write up full notes in minutes.

It was a skill well worth knowing, as it was one of the many ways to get out of the slums. I had an advantage over many, knowledge, writing skills and beauty. Too bad I didn't use it.

The lady came out of my uncle's office and handed me her notes, which I took thankfully and watched her out the door, closing and locking it behind her. Taking my place again, I quickly wrote up her notes, before looking through the many files kept here and finding Marjory Jones' own file, and placing them inside.

Once done, I tidied up my desk, and headed into my uncles office. "Uncle Harold, I've finished everything and tidied up. Am I alright to take my leave now?" I asked hesitantly. He looked up at me from writing something, and smiled, nodding.

"Yes you may leave, be careful on the streets, and try to make your way home quickly. It's not safe now. I would take you home but, you live on the other side of the city to me unfortunately," I nodded at his kind words and smiled. He was always nice to me, always a gentleman.

"Thank you," I said, before heading out and picking up my coat and shawl from the peg on the wall, and wrapping them tightly round me. Unlocking the door and opening it, I took a glance at the clock on the wall, and frowned, seeing the time as nearly 2am. It was later than I'd expected. I'd taken a long time to finish everything.

Heading out, I shuddered at the cold nip the night air gave me, my breath coming out as mist in front of me. Looking around me, I headed down the street towards my house. It normally took me a good twenty minutes to get home.

But then again, normally I would've been finished for around 9-10pm. Today Uncle had wanted to keep open for longer, as he'd been busier lately, and so had required me to stay for longer. I just hoped to God I wouldn't pay the price.

The streets were as silent as they always were at night, darkness creeping round every corner, the way only lit every so often by gas lamps. I hated silence, it was creepy. Especially since these murders. How I wished Johnny could be here right now with me, but it was too far for him to come just to walk me home.

Although I could tell he wanted to come so much. I watched my shadow fall in front of me as I passed a lamp, and kept my eyes on the cobbled street, not looking up, only to follow the streets. I was closer now, around 15 minutes away from my house when I first heard it.

The silence of the night made it so loud, the scuff of a boot against the road. I started and looked behind me anxiously, stopping in the middle of the road and peering down the street. But nothing was there. Or at least, nothing I could see.

I gulped nervously, and carried on, glancing behind me every so often. After a few seconds, I convinced myself it was my nerves, when I heard it again. Only this time, I heard the breathing alongside it. My breath hitched in my throat.

This wasn't normal. I knew this wasn't normal as I stopped once again, looking back down the street. Due to the lamps being so far apart, it had resulted in large patches of street being in darkness. I carried on, walking slightly faster than I had been, holding myself tighter.

This time, the boots carried on down the street after me, their heels clicking loudly in the street. I didn't look back, and I didn't stop. Whoever this was saw this, and chuckled softly, a noise that gave my body goose bumps all over. He was enjoying it.

I didn't know who he was, and so convinced myself he was merely a passer-by. That was, until I heard the dreadful screeching. Metal against stone, the noise you get when you drag it across. My heart jumped into my throat. I knew what that was. I knew instantly.

Knife.

My breathing was faster now, I was panicking, silent tears streaming down my face. Dear god, it was him. Everyone nicknamed him the Ripper. It was him.

Someone had saved Kirsty from meeting him the other day. And I literally begged and prayed that someone would save me. I feared for my life. Looking up, I saw a street sign.

I was still 10 minutes away from my house. Anything could happen in 10 minutes. I could be murdered in 10 minutes. Erased from the world. Shaking my head, I wiped my tears frantically, still hearing the boots after me, only now, they had increased in pace.

"Run little girl, run. It makes it so much better," he whispered out quietly, loud enough for me to hear. The syllables ran down my spine, causing me to shiver. I was in a state of panic now, my one goal to get home as fast as possible.

I closed my eyes, and collided with something hard, knocking me to the ground. They grabbed my wrists tightly, and I shut my eyes tight, opening my mouth to scream when suddenly a hand was placed over it.

I began to panic harder, not being able to breath. My tears streaming down and forming rivers. I was going to die, and no one could help me.

"Hey, hey calm down. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. He's gone," I heard whispered in my ear. "Breathe, take a deep breathe. You're suffocating yourself," his voice rolled out, his accent smooth and American. I knew he was no threat to me.

I did as he asked, and slowly, I opened my eyes.

He knelt in front of me, his green eyes laced with worry as he stared down at me. "What were you doing out here this late? Why aren't you at home? Where's Johnny?" His questions where fired at me quick and sharp.

Unfortunately for him, I was looking calmer on the outside, but was a quivering wreck on the inside.

"I-I-I, work a-a-at m-my un-unc-uncles," I managed to get out between sobs. I couldn't get anything else out, and he sighed, rubbing his face and looking at me.

"Come on, let's get you home and off these streets. God forbid I wasn't here then. You'd be yet another on his list," he said, holding his hand out and taking mine, trying to pull me up. Unfortunately my legs decided they weren't working.

I was too scared, I was scared that I'd start walking and the boots would follow. "Sarah, get up. We've got to get you off the streets," in amongst the flurry of thoughts, I suddenly realised that this man didn't belong on these streets. Why was he here in the slums?

But all thoughts where thrown out as the steam train heading straight for pandemonium rolled through my mind.

He sighed and looked around, before putting his arms under my legs and lifting me up.

"If you won't walk I'll walk for you," he said, slightly aggravated. I didn't pay attention. I just wanted off these god-forsaken streets.

Eventually, he stopped, and I looked up, my vision blurry at first, but soon I saw my own house in front of me. He let me down, and held me steady as I swayed slightly.

"You go in and get to sleep okay? You need it after what's gone on tonight. And remember, don't go anywhere alone again. Okay?" He said, looking at me straight in the eyes. I nodded, wiping my tears away and sniffing slightly.

"Thank you," I whispered, managing to choke the word out. He nodded slightly, before walking off, disappearing down an alleyway and into the darkness. With one look at the blackness, I instantly went inside and headed straight to bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep, my night's activities finally taking their toll. And my dreams infiltrated with knife wielding murderers, and green-eyed heroes.