In my past life I was happy. I had a loving family if slightly dysfunctional, a well-paid job at a book store and the love of my life.

My former life I used to be Emily Annette Jones. A 21 year old postgraduate who graduated her business degree with a first. You might ask why someone with a business degree worked in a book shop the reason was I loved it and something had to pay the rent.

I never really thought much about what happens when you die. Or if your soul goes to another place. To be honest I always thought you should life by the day.

Worrying about the future would only give wrinkles.

However I had always been fascinated with fantasy, myths and legends. I loved the idea that there was more in the world then just the organisms everyone knows.

It felt like the world had a secret and only I knew.

I didn't know the world did have secrets, similar to what I thought but the books bent the truth. Demons were not always the monsters described, and death gods did exist prior to previous thought.

When my life terminated as I called at the time it was a silly accident. I was alone at the book store one night. A large delivery had just come in however it was late so I stayed behind and alone at the store.

When the delivery truck stopped outside I was pleased to say the least the coffee I was using to keep me awake was starting to not have any effect. I really couldn't wait to get home and get some rest. My watch told me it was now 11.12pm past my bed time.

So with 21 cardboard boxes packed carefully with the new arrivals for the History section I signed on the dotted line and bid the currier goodbye.

By now I wanted to get them into the store room quickly. Brightly coloured splotches were dotting my vision due to lack of sleep. The bad thing is that the store room was in the basement. This was supposed to be to save space and for easy access.

So I piled my arms high with 4 boxes at once. I don't even know how I carried them really I should have switched the basement light on first before going down there. But I obviously lacked the common sense. I thought 'I've been working here long enough, I could walk anywhere in this store with my eyes shut and not a single bump'.

I was wrong. I got the top of the stairs when my arms began to tire. 1 step down all is well, 2 steps down honestly nothing wrong at all here. Step number 3 my foot caught I had stood on my shoe lace.

Toppling forward head first I tried to balance by leaning back. Not a good idea the box off the top fell behind me catching in the back of my knees. I plunged head first into the dark abyss it felt like I caught every stone step on the way down. My head hurt like crazy.

Just as I opened my eyes I saw the stack of books I had been carrying had knocked into a very large and very unstable cabinet. The last thing I saw was that and its contents falling towards me, shutting my eyes waiting for the impact I braced myself.

I don't really remember much after that but I do remember the warm trickling of blood at the back of my head.

For some strange reason I was re-born into Victorian England.

Not that I really knew at my birth. It wasn't until I hit my tenth birthday did memories of my past life trickle in to my mind slowly. More like a dream, most of the time I didn't really think about it. I mean can you remember every dream you ever had? No.

To be honest I had never really paid much attention in History but growing up in Victorian slums was very cramped and smelly.

All of my 6 older siblings (Ada, Terence, Andrew, Nathaniel, Madeline and Louis) worked to bring money in. Mostly less than 2pence a day.

We all lived in one room, I never saw my father apparently he worked in the mines. He would get Christmas off if he was lucky. Nathaniel started working in the mines once he turned 13 since his employer didn't want him past his birthday.

Ada and Louis twins 3 years older than me. They worked in the work house we lived quite close. They would work long hours. Not to mention Louis had already lost a finger through one of the machines. Which he got dutifully punished for.

Madeline worked as a chimney sweep until she became too tall. My mother was hoping to sell her off as a parlour maid since she was quite pretty for a slum girl.

Terence called himself a professional pickpocket. He would go to the richer areas of London and try steal a few purses.

Andrew I never knew what he did. Just that he would disappear for days and come back looking traumatised. I think it had something to do with the doctor that was always claiming to have found new ways to kill disease.

I was supposed to have 8 siblings but one died of TB at 3 months old and the other mother miscarried.

It could be worse. Mrs. Penny next door lost 4 out of five children it's only her husband's high wage that keeps her going. She's hoping that her little boy will survive so he can bring in some money.

The one thing about living in a slum was that you were never lonely. I was a very lucky child I didn't get ill much. Mother always had Pneumonia when you live in the slums sometimes you come to expect death.

Once I outgrew being a chimney sweep I began to sell flowers in the richer areas or try to. It didn't always go down well. Let's face it no one really wanted buy flowers off a scruffy peasant girl even if she had the decency to tidy her hair into two pleats. I did this for many years although winters were a struggle. I managed to get by through selling various sweet smelling herbs and begging.

Over time my siblings moved on. Madeline managed to get a job as a parlour maid she would send half of her pay packet home to mother. Andrew and Terence were both put into prison, turns out Andrew had been murdering people so the doctor could look at their innards. No need to ask for Terence. Ada got married and moved to Essex, last time I heard she suspected she was carrying her first child.

Louis went to America to seek new opportunities. I never knew how he got the cash together for the ferry.

With my siblings gone I was the sole earner and as the youngest expected to care for my mother until my father returned. He never did. I always suspected the mine collapsed it did often. According to the paper boys who would shout continuously the days headline.

Even with renting out our room space to four lodgers it still didn't make paying the landlord much easier.

One day I was coming home from an area around the big river I think it may have been called the Thames. Today's headline was 'London children disappear, Cold blood or coincidence?' It hadn't been an overly successful day, it had been daffodils today bright cheerful yellow flowers.

I personally liked them very much. Very hardy flowers blooming early despite the recent snowy period.

A well-dressed middle aged man and his wife passed me, holding my hand out bearing flowers I offered. His wife gave me a disgusted look. 'Filthy peasant'.

She walked on examining the shops ahead, carefully arranging her parasol over her head.

Her husband stopped by me told me that he knew of a few people who would appreciate these flowers very much. He said "stop by my house tonight. It is the white house with 2 chimneys on green lane. Come by the back my wife doesn't like seeing poor people, ask for Albert."

That really should have alarm bells ringing. Unfortunately it didn't.

I borrowed mothers best wicker basket from our room thankful none of the lodgers had 'borrowed' it. It happened a few times lodgers borrowing things like my father's pocket watch to sell. Still I hoped mother wouldn't be too mad with me borrowing it. I couldn't ask her since she doesn't get home until after dusk due to her working in the mill.

Before sunset I picked more daffodils and even managed to locate a few snowdrops thankfully it seemed like I was the only one who used this site.

Now that I think about it I doubt I would have been able to find the street name if I hadn't retained my literary functions from my previous life.

Upon arriving on Green Lane I was astonished to see how close the rich and the working class (I don't really like the term poor since wealth can come in many forms) lived to each other. In a matter of streets there were the presence of the two extremes. Wrought iron gates and hedges shaped in to the form of exotic creatures it was a sight to behold.

I arrived at his back door little after 11pm according to the clock strikes. Three knocks on the white wooden door and I hear movement from behind it. Adjusting my ragged cloak I took a deep breath in and straightened my shoulders. As mother always says 'class doesn't define posture. Good posture means a good attitude'

The door opened and the man from earlier was there this time he had a cane and was wearing a top hat which I found to look daft on him due to its height. However claiming I don't like his choice in dress wear would not get me a sale.

"Ah just on time young lady. I have a few guests who would find it most pleasing to see your goods." He spoke his voice sounding rather like someone was pinching his nose.

I just nodded in response. "Please follow me" he turned and walked into his back door.

At that moment I was finding it rather odd that he would invite me into his home after all I could come back and rob him. However I was only thinking about the possible sale.

I could barely believe how it looked. Plush furnishings in every corner guiled tables. We went into a room I would describe as a parlour or games room. There were many men situated around one table cards in hand and cigars in their mouths.

As I walked in they all turned to look "this lovely young lady has come to deliver us some wonderful flowers. Take and examine her goods and wares carefully."

Anxiously I waited while the basket was passed round. Focusing on my worn shoes in detail. If I had been looking up I would have noticed the men looking at me.

One of the men rose from the gambling table and walked up to the home owner, handing him some money. "I'll take it"

My basket was handed back to me and the shadow of one of the men loomed over me. "Excuse me sir will you be buying any flowers?" I asked.

Carefully he took one of the flowers out of the basket placing the daffodil up towards his nose. He inhaled its sweet scent. "Actually I have a business proposition for you, you will be of much use to a cultural club." He spoke very slowly as if just because I wasn't on the same class level as him I did not understand.

"With regret sir I cannot take up your offer." I tell him, I have to support my mother until I find a suitor.

"It wasn't an offer." He simply stated. This confused me, the confusion must have been evident in my face. "You see, you will come with me or be arrested. We upper class do not take kindly to thieves." His blonde hair shadowing his eyes adding a sinister look.

"I have not stolen anything, I have nothing on my person which doesn't belong to me."

At this moment he dropped the lovely sunny daffodil he had been inhaling, landing right by his shoe. Then stamping on it. Removing his foot from the now destroyed flower he brought his cane down on it. TO be honest that really did defeat the purpose however I perceived it to be to add effect.

"The basket please." He commanded to the man wearing a blue overcoat, who incidentally put his cigar out with seemingly mild annoyance. Passing it over to the blonde man who smiled in response. Rummaging through the basket throwing my lovely flowers onto the carpeted floor, he didn't take great care. Instead he decided to tip the basket upside down spilling the contents everywhere in a shower of yellow petals and green stems. Among the petals I caught a glimpse of something that shouldn't be there something shined.

My blood ran cold. "It seems this young lady is nothing more than a common thief." Bending down to pick an object up off the floor. "Does this pocket watch belong to any person in this room?" he announced holding it by its chain glinting in the lamplight.

Albert the man I ran into in the market place raised his hand. "I do believe that is mine. I lost it this morning while out with my wife. In fact it was after I ran into this little girl I noticed it missing."

"As I am an officer of the law I can convict you for your crime. But I do find the paperwork most tiresome so you will be coming with me. Your punishment will be penal servitude due to transportation being abolished, and I know just the place." He said very smugly.

Penal servitude in other words hard labour for a minimum of 3 years but could range to 7 or more years. Also known as prison labour. Crimes which were deemed not significant enough to serve capital punishment as her majesty Queen Victoria wasn't in favour of this practice.

Despite my innocence, really I have no choice in this. The evidence doesn't lie if you are not upper class. There is no such thing as an upper class gentleman planting a 'stolen' item about a lower classes person. I didn't know what to do. I flinched as he placed his hand on my shoulder steering me towards the door.

A horse driven carriage and wagon waited there, both drivers already seated despite the rain. Upon getting to the back of the wagon it was evident that access could only be gained from the outside due to the brass bolt nailed on to its wooden door complete with padlock.

This man I heard someone address him as Mr. Tipton fished out a key for the padlock on the door and slid the bolt back. Ushered inside it smelt of damp and fear. I wasn't the only one there. All children huddled together at the far end the oldest no older then Terence who is 17.

Hands bound by rope like the others I was more or less shoved in to the darkness. I don't know how long I was there. Along the bumpy cobbles it made many stops. Perhaps this is some kind of jailer's wagon. We are all guilty until proven otherwise of some crime and we are being sent to be punished.

Each time I shoved my way towards the back, a chance to escape at the right moment. A petite blonde girl next to me wouldn't stop quivering. Even after I placed my arm around her.

"They're going to kill us you know. I heard about it. These people take criminals to be killed, all I did was pick up a loaf of bread that was in the middle of the road. We'll be sent to Satan himself. All because I skipped church once!" she sobbed into my arms.

I didn't know what to say. All I could do was pat her back in an attempt to soothe.

Some of the kids screamed cried yelled out and shouted. Even going as far as to bang on our wooden box. None of it came of use.

I didn't see anyone I knew though. I didn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. I have to go through this alone whatever happens, however I should be thankful that no one I know such as my family does.

A hole in the wood just wide enough to see out of indicated darkness was still present. I wondered vaguely whether we were still in London. I would hope that should I escape I would be able to navigate back. However none of the shadows struck familiarity.

The constant jerks of the wheels over stone and ditches kept everyone awake. A low hum had begun to generate as everyone preyed and attempted to escape reality. Others like me just stared blankly into space. What could be done?

Slowly a faint smell of burning began to drift in through the cracks in the wood and any other gaps that the air could find. As we moved the smell became stronger.

Perhaps these people had set the carriage on fire to give us all a slow painful death however it is likely that we would be overcome by the smoke before the flames.

That was not the case, I wasn't sure whether to be thankful or not. Screams and shouts echoed outside. Everyone moved further away from the door maybe it was time for us to see justice.

We heard the clunk of the padlock falling to the floor and the metallic grinding of the nailed in bolt, everyone including me drew in a sharp breath.

Soon enough the door was pulled hastily open, filling the air with smoke and the rancid scent of burning flesh. I remembered the first time I had smelt it, old man Henry from across the way had died. A funeral was too expensive even burial cost too much. They opted to burn his body in a secluded copse in the wood while people uttered prayers at his 'cremation' to send him in the right direction.

A young boy was shoved in, his face illuminated for a second by the moonlight. No older than 10. He looked traumatised, lost and terrified all at once. I could not imagine what he had just seen nor did I feel the urge too.

He shivered lightly dressed in little more than a light tunic which would mostly serve as nightwear.

I resisted the urge to put my arms round him despite him looking so vulnerable. I shouldn't get attached not if the rumours are true. However even if I did get attached what harm could it do? If one dies we all will most likely as we all share the same fate whatever it may be.

Eventually I caved in to my instincts, like I was an older sibling despite never having the experience. I placed my arms round him in an attempt to share my warmth.

He looked up shocked I could now see he had vibrant blue eyes in addition to the coal greyish blacky blue colour of his hair I had earlier witnessed in addition to a fairly pale complexion.

"I don't know what awaits however I will not allow it to get to that stage." I said calmly earning a few shocked looks. "If we work together we may be able to get out of this. So let's cooperate how about a few introductions?"

A shaggy haired boy towards the back sat up straight "Cyril." Another joined in with the sound of the voice obviously younger "James" then an Allison chimed in, along with a Richard and a Thomas.

A small voice spoke up next to me "My name is Ciel Phantomhive."

"Well then Ciel and everyone let's try make it out of here together." I tried to remain cheerful

"She must be disorientated." "Perhaps she is a simpleton" "Just stupid I say"

I mostly agreed with them but I didn't like waiting here like sheep to the slaughter crated up until the butchers would be reached.

"It's escape or die." Ciel stated shushing the whole lot into silence.

At that moment I realised I had not told anyone what to address me by. "Elisabetta."

For the rest of the journey Ciel did not say another word. However for some strange reason the thought of any of these children dying despite them being total strangers to me I could not bear.

To get everyone out alive is a necessity uninjured however is a preference. The problem was to articulate an escape strategy.

A/N

I hope you like this. I have no beta reader volunteer's enquire within.

My first attempt at a Kuroshitsuji fic. Updates will be sporadic as inspiration does not always hit at the right time.