Gears Among the Roses

April 4th 1892

Yesterday, I came back to Cloak and Dagger at six in the morning. Luckily, no one ever heard me entering the house. The day went on with experiments and poisons for my body to test, the normal day I was used to. Despite almost killing myself yesterday, I am glad I did not go through with it.

"Cecelia!" My father Henry entered my room, "I need you downstairs."

Ignoring his question, I dared to ask, "Father, is the war coming soon?"

He took a step closer and raised his hand, slapping my face. "That is not your concern. Never ask again."

"Yes, father." I can not wait for tonight, I am going back to London.

"Come now Cecelia." His grip tightened on my arm.

I said nothing, allowing him to walk infront of me.

Once we were in the basement I sat on a wooden stool, the cold seat sent a shiver down my spine. I could see Henry looking in his drawer of needles, he looked unsatisfied. Digging deeper he found one, it was long, silver, and the most painful out of the bunch. It was punishment for questioning him, I know it. Walking to the other side of the room I could vaguely see him shifting through the medicine cabinet, this meaning he was going to inject me with one of his experimental poisons.

My father made his way over to my wooden stool. "Ready?" No, I never am and never will be. I nodded at him. "Yes."

He pushed the needle into the skin on my neck without warning, "Now this may cause some hallucinations. Stay down here until they pass." His voice was gentle, to gentle. Filling the needle again with the red liquid, it was injected into my neck once more. "Alright that is all for today."

Moments later I was left in the dark, the hallucinations began to set in. Looking down at my hands they felt a thousand miles away. My vision is spotted, I take a breath as the world begins to turn. I can not stay down here, the darkness is too much. Slowly I lift up from the stool and rise on my feet, holding the table for support, something sharp touches my hand, I dare to look. A needle, it isn't clean, I just injected myself with more poison. How stupid could I be?

I need to get to my room, I need to rest. My stomach is now hurting, a sharp pain courses through my body. Why didn't I kill myself? No life is worth this much pain.

Reaching the stairs, I slowly make my way up. To dismay Clare happened to be passing the door that second. "Clare!" The tone in my voice is demanding.

"Miss Cecelia. Are you ok?" Of course not, the only time I was ok was in London.

Holding the rail of the staircase I simply say, "Yes."

Her face was pure worry, "You look ill."

This was not the time to lie, I desperately needed help. "Can you help me to my room?"

"Of course Miss." Her hand reached out for mine, which I gladly took.

In my room, Clare lead me to my bed. She quickly removed my shoes, I wanted to stay dressed so I declined her offer to help undo my corset. "Anything else you need Miss?" Clare's voice was a whisper.

"Perhaps some medicine or food." I forced a smile.

"Of course. I will be back." She spoke, leaving the room.

It felt like hours before she came back, the poison was finally fading. The pain had stopped but my vision was still a blur. Clare knocked three times before entering, she held a tray that contained a bowl of soup and a glass along side a bottle of wine. "Thank you." I said sitting up, she carefully placed the tray next to me.

Hovering over the tray, the smell of chicken consumed me. "Cream of Chicken." Clare glanced at me, "Your favorite."

"Thank you." My sight shifted to the glass, "Why did you bring wine?"

"To ease the tension." Despite us not liking each other, it was nice to know someone cared about me.

"Thank you Clare. I don't know what I would have done without you." It was true, I would have never made it to my bedroom alone.

"Alright Miss Cecelia. Call for me when you are finished." Clare left once more, returning to her afternoon duties.

Picking up the spoon, I slowly let it sink into the broth before taking a sip. It was just as wonderful as I remember. The last time I had this exact soup was the day of my first experiment, I was so weak and had to be carried. I continued to sip the soup, thinking about London and the dream life I had always wanted.

Finishing the soup much to quickly, I moved over to pour myself a glass of wine. The thick red colour poured softly, filling to the brim of the glass. I touched the liquid to my lips and did not stop until I met the empty bottom. I poured another.

The bottle was soon empty and I felt much better. Lightheaded yet overall better. My eyes grew heavy and I soon drifted into a blissful sleep.

I jolted awake, how long was I asleep? What time is it? I scanned the wall finding my clock. The time read ten twenty seven pm, just enough time to go and get back around one in the morning.

The process felt natural, put on shoes, leave house, walk to elevator, explore London. I can not imagine never going to London again, it was my home. After all, home is where the heart is.

I said a brief hello to the old man and made my way towards town. More stores were open this time at night, not just the medicine shop. Women in petticoats and men dressed in trousers wandered the streets. A few strangers glanced at me, curious who I was, only my head was seen, the rest of my body hidden under my cloak. It was a brisk night and I was not used to this sort of weather. Smelling vanilla, I found myself inside a bakery. Looking at a baker preparing bread, I realized that I was staring.

"Would you like a piece?" The baker boy spoke, his shirt spotted with flour.

"How much is it?" I asked blindly, aware that I had no way to buy it.

"For a lady like you, it's free." He pushed a small, clear plate towards me. A few slices of bread lined in a row, I gladly took one.

"This is wonderful. Thank you." I smiled at him, he smiled shyly walking to the ovens in back. Finishing the bread I turned and walked to the door, opening it. I heard a thud from outside, "Are you alright?" I asked the young man on the ground. He was striking, the gentleman brushed back his long brown hair, I could see his green eyes. His eyes met mine, I was lost in the colour green.

Stammering he quickly got up, lifting the box and its possessions. "Yes. Very sorry. I should have opened the door for you."

"That's okay." I am blushing.

Staring at me for a few moments he finally spoke, "Have we met before?"

"No, I do not think so." I would have remembered.

"You look so familiar." He looked at me from head to toe.

"Odd." I have never been this nervous in my entire life. "Well I had better be on my way." It was true, as much as I wanted to stay and talk.

"Alright. Oh I am Nathaniel by the way. Nathaniel Roland. And you are?" He was pushy, I liked it.

"Neva, that's my middle name." I did not want to give too much information to a complete stranger.

"What's your first name?" I was tempted to tell him.

"I don't give my name to strangers." At least I was honest.

"Then let us not be strangers. How about we meet here again tomorrow night?" Was this a date? I don't know how to respond.

"Sure." The only word I could force myself to say.

He bent down and kissed my hand, "See you tomorrow Miss Neva." Swiftly he brushed past me and entered the bakery.

Nathaniel was special, meeting him would change my life forever.