My name is Dr William Blackmore and this might be my final entry.
The pen shakes unforgivingly in my hand as I think of London. A city filled with murder and corruption- a city divided by the rich and the poor. Stuck in the middle are men like me struggling to find their way. We’ll never reach the top, the continual ascent to the top with constant clawing at the heels, only to be dragged back into the cesspit of the city. But for all my endeavours that failed somewhat- I felt I was lucky in other ways. I had a lovely little town house filled with love and that love was created by Charlotte, my wife- the soul essence for my existence. Notice the words- was and had. Something terrible happened, and what followed was out of my control- on the surface though it seemed that I was in full control.
My wife, carrying my unborn child was taken. What they did to her was unimaginable. The horror that I saw on that day would forever scar me. What followed though was mayhem. A bloody carnage that now I’m coming to regret. Thinking of Charlotte looking down on me right now sends quivering shockwaves of sadness through me. She would be disappointed but what is done is done and I can’t turn back the clock. Oh how cruel fate is to us lesser men, tiptoeing on hollow ground waiting for the final blow, an uncontrollable blow that will come sooner rather than later for some men.
This is my story.
This is my end.
Dr William Blackmore