Still today I am reluctant to go outside alone at dark night.The cries of dogs and cats and the calmness of the night frightens me.I was just an ordinary person living a poor and miserable life.I was living with my parents in Nottingham.My father worked at a retail store,dealing with fish and crabs.Our life was good and healthy.We indeed were not rich but we were happy.I went to school for sometime,then one night ,my father died,and my family had to constantly struggle for survival.My mother went at her native home with my elder sister.She was living with her brother,who at times would act so rude,that would make her cry.Soon my sister got married ,but life was yet to give a surprise.On the December of 1881,my mother passed away.For sometime ,I was living up with my uncle.Eventually I was getting fed up of the situation. .I could not see this situation so I came to the city in hopes of a better future,but didn't have any money or a place to stay with all that in my mind I reached Whitechapel in the August of 1883.For,the first two weeks I was struggling and begging for money so that I could eat something.I remember the countless nights I had to spend starving with nothing on my stomach.One day,a shop owner noticed me,and gave a job as a cart driver.My job was to supply fresh produces into the nearby shops.I had a poor but good enough lifestyle, living in the lodging house near the East end,until one night when I encountered a terrible event. By the late Victorian era in 1888, London was the largest capital in the world and the center of the ever-increasing British empire. Queen Victoria had been on the throne for over 50 years and the public face of Britain reflected Victoria’s lifestyle which was proud, dignified and above all, proper. It was the center of empire, culture,finance, communication and transportation, with a new emerging mass media called the new journalism. However, right on its doorstep in the East End lay the district of Whitechapel. Seedy by any standards, it was a crime-ridden sordid quarter, where more than 78,000 residents lived in abject poverty. It was an area of doss houses, sweatshops, abattoirs, overcrowded slums, pubs, a few shops and warehouses, leavened with a row or two of respectably kept cottages. Whitechapel was already making headlines for how cruel the situation was in.But what truly made it a legendary location was not it's poor and filthy condition but the infamous Jack the ripper.It is generally believed,that Jack the Ripper had only five victims also known as Canonical five, then he wasn't a particularly prolific murderer, compared to many who have come since, and the fact that his so called reign of terror lasted a mere twelve or so weeks means that he wasn't at large for a particularly long period of time. Yet there is little doubt that he is the one of the most famous serial killer.A killer whose works are so frightening ,that we still remember his name,and the place itself bears his scars.