They used to tell me.
“If you let him follow you.
It’s your own fault of what you turn out to be.”

I’d count the steps out in my head,
Of just how far I’ve gotten.
But I could never shake the feeling of dread.

The faster I’d go,
Slower and slower the time seemed to pass,
Until the world stopped short with my blood still running cold.

I’d feel the eyes, and smell the stench.
My body would double, and my insides would wrench.
Still there was a bloodthirsty shadow left waiting to be quench.

I’d cry, but I fear there’s no voice left in me.
He’s quieter than that, cause he knows,
Not even in this hollowed alley, would anyone hear me scream.

Even the silence is threatening,
The thick air does nothing but stifle my breathing.
I still can’t believe this is happening...

But every time I turn around,
I still see him chasing me.
Whispering my name to the beat of his footsteps on the cobbled ground.

“Mary Kelly, Mary Kelly, Mary Kelly...”