I strived daily to overcome my melancholic behaviour. I had slummed through my days for quite some time now. I howl to myself in the mirror as I claw at my face with my silver handled razor-blade. I see it now, my reflection, one of intellect, one that deserves recognition. My name is Elijah Warrick, my family once proud, and great, we once owned a country house in Southern England, on the outskirts of the now smog-covered London.
I flick my razor-blade up my neck, and whisk it off my face, close enough to slit my jugular, but with the precision of a barber I scrape the follicles from my face without damaging a single observable cell. The mind of a doctor, a surgeon, a scientist, one might say. Though, the mix of Melancholic, and sanguine temperament has put me in a place where I am distrusting to my current reality, and as I take my morning dose of opium I begin my day, spitting the last of a monster down the drain.
I brush my hand through my hair and slick the brown strands back until they obey me. I have studied the human body for many years; one of the outlines I covered in my research is the degradation of boundary, of border, of barrier when the human body is put under an overwhelming amount of stress, pain, or hopelessness. I have lacked willing participants and my license to practice medicine removed for signs of a ‘troubled mind’.
I am not a loss however, it is they who are betrayed by their weakness. It is they who will be bowing before me when I conclude my research and spearhead my campaign; I simply require a volunteer. Yes, that certainly is what I need. When fastening my waistcoat around my stomach, I thought of what I needed to do, “What would be better? A man? a woman? for an in-depth study of the human psyche, and it’s adaptability under stress?” I pondered over questions that circle in my mind; it haunted me. I was to make my family great again, and be at the front of discovery, and science, rather than at the back-end of a horse stable.
I threw on my finest wears: an upstanding collared white shirt, a bow tie, a dark grey waistcoat, a dark grey pair of breeches, and my finest knee-length frock coat. I wore my top-hat today. I gazed at my reflection for a moment before leaving, and strong-armed my thought process “Everything will fall into place soon.”
When I left my house, and took a turning into market street I side-stepped the mud-rich puddles, and galloped past the brigands, and free-hands. Some people looked at me and took a step away. Perhaps, it was the piercing green eyes I had that put them off. Whatever it was, I did not take notice. There was one woman who stood out; the first woman in months to truly catch my eye. Upon glancing at this being of purity I felt a sudden fixation to steer my path towards her. I saw her gaze at me, and I looked deep into her crystal blue, beautiful eyes; they stirred things up inside me that I hadn’t yet fathomed. I watched as her dark brown curled hair bounced from her shoulders to her bust. She was tall, back straight, and she had a fondness on her lips that could only be described as angelic.She wore a long red dress with a solid bodice, and an intricate design that flowed around her collar like someone had engraved symbols on the heavens.
She personified the heavens as the sun shone in her presence and I was left with ill-confidence. I clung to any escaping bravery I had, and refused to let the last speck dissipate and clutched it to my breast. I walked towards her as my mouth propped a smile. When I raised my hand to speak, her eyes met mine. We grew steps closer, and when I raised my voice, I heard the voice of another behind me.
“Lucille! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
My heart had melted away, my soul had been crushed, and my confidence broke. I turned to see what finer specimen than I had her attention, and a man with a square jaw, perfect brown hair, glass blue eyes, and gentleman attire stood in front of her.
I clenched my fist but stood shackled by the acceptance that the law would ruin my good name. I stood, watching them speak, and saw him laying his hands on her. I stood shackled like a beast, but my anger was guarded well.
I turned away, and closed my eyes. I squeezed my hand tight until the beast that was anger left me. I turned back to look at the woman who had instantaneously raised my heart, and crushed it, “Lucille?”
I was in love.