John Jasper (The mystery of Edwin Drood)Rate
: I don't own the rights to The mystery of Edwin Drood. Written for fun and with love and not for financial gain.Summary:
Written for the fanfic-competion on Matthew Rhys Online
- Assignment: write a fanfic based on one of the characters Matthew Rhys played..Warning:
Might contain spoilers for 'The Mystery of Edwin Drood'
He lets himself fall on back on the bed and he lets the opium do its job. He feels heavier and heavier. He descends into a world of colors. Like a kaleidoscope that is turned to change the colors, until the portrait becomes fixed. It will be Rosa Bud, he assumes. Who else would be able to penetrate so deep in his subconscious?
She turns around and smiles at him. It’s a seductive smile and he smiles back, assuming that the smile is meant for him. For a moment he gives in to the dream. He wants to surrender to the desire that he sees in her eyes. If only her love for him could be real and not a feverish dream. But it’s not so. As always there is Edwin Drood, who will forever have Rosa’s love and, as usual, John Jasper can only watch her beautiful smile, which is only for Edwin and never for him.
He stumbles through the garden to get to the church. He needs the fresh air. He must dispel the worries in his head ... The sun is bright, but despite the many layers of clothing, John is still cold. He tries to think about an appropriate hymn, which he can have sung on Sunday, in church, but nothing comes to his mind.
The only thing he can think of is Rosa's white skin. And the eyes of Edwin, breaking, as he tries to grab a the scarf that John pulls tighter and tighter around his neck. Is he losing his sanity even during the day now?
He shakes his head and he tries to dispel the images. Choose something. Any hymn will do. Once he enters the church, the choir will expect his instructions. Choose.
He looks down over his shoulder and he sees how the choir boys gather. And among the other children he suddenly sees himself. A little 7-year old boy, lost in a big church. Unwanted. Unloved. Undesirable.
However, there had been a time, when the music would start to play and he had always felt closer to a greater love than he thought possible. Unfortunately, the music is no consolation to him no more. For she, Rosa Bud, will never be his. Her heart is for Edwin, wherever he may be.
No! No! .... No, she could still love him, if she could see him for who he really is. Perhaps not some romantic hero from one of her books, but a man who loves her. A man of flesh and blood ...
And opium ... F
lesh. Blood. And opium. He knows it's not good for him. The delusions are becoming harder to control. Where had Edwin gone? Had he, John Jasper, eventually made his dreams come true? Had he grabbed the scarf? And then pulled it tighter? Until Edwin, with all the air pressed from his lungs, had fallen at his feet? What are all these strange images?
No. If there had been a murder, it had to have been that Neville Landless who had killed Edwin. Nevill is responsible ... He did it! ... He has murdered Edwin! .. No?
He sure now. She will never be his. He has read in her eyes. She hates him. He does not want to know, but he knows it anyway. Desperately he searches for the bottle of Laudenum that Mrs. Crisparkle had given him. He takes a sip. The taste is bitter, but he hopes that this will give him peace of mind.
But again the dreams are back. Like every night, Rosa smiles at him. Like every night, she gives him the scarf. Like every night, he grabs the ends and he pulls them tightly around Edwin's neck. And, like every night, Edwin Drood dies under the hands of John Jasper.