A Very Juliet Story

Well, good morning everyone. I was looking through some stories written when I was still in school, and I came across this one. Technically it’s a Fan Fiction, but in English Lit it’s called “an assignment”.    -.-

Anyway, this is from Romeo and Juliet, one of Shakespeare’s most famous works. This story is my take on Act IV, Scene III – what would have been going on in Juliet’s head?

As always, enjoy, and tell me what you think!

***
Location: The house of the Capulets
Time: 1930 hours

A single tear rolled down her cheek, splashing onto the floor below.

The young girl was sitting on her bed, face buried in her hands. Her eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to spill over. Her head, pounding with anger and grief, was filled with thoughts of despair. She could see no way out of her dilemma.

She glanced down at a finger on her hand; on it was a single gold band. A ring.

Her wedding ring.

Two days ago was the happiest day of her life – her wedding to the love of her life. She did not care that her family and his family were bitter enemies; all she cared about was him. So, she had sneaked out in the early morning to meet her sweetheart at the church, and before the Friar, they had wed. They had promised to be forever faithful to each other, to love each other for eternity.

And then they had wed.

It was the happiest day of her life.

Fortune, however, never smiles upon a person for long. Bad things always came in threes, and this time, it was an omen. Her husband killed her cousin Benvolio in a rage, after Benvolio killed her husband’s best friend. She had loved Benvolio dearly, and this came as a great shock to her. But what was even worse was that the murder had broken the already-unstable peace, and her husband was now banished, never to return.

She could not bear to never see her husband again. That, coupled with the death of her cousin, nearly broke her.

Then her father finished the job for her. Not knowing that his daughter had married the son of his sworn enemy, he ordered her to marry her other relative, Paris. It was a loveless marriage, one of convenience. And it was to be held tomorrow.

Her choice was either marriage or death. But Capulet did not realise that marriage to anyone but her husband was like death to her.

Now, she had only hours left to find an escape to her husband. Thankfully, the Friar had come up with a cunning plan: All she had to do was drink a potion that simulated the symptoms of death. When her people put her in the family crypt, thinking she was dead, her husband would sneak back in the dead of the night and fetch her. Together, they would flee the city and start a new life elsewhere.

They would be together, forever.

But she was afraid.

The girl was afraid of death, of either a physical death or an emotional death through a loveless marriage. She was afraid of her parents, and what they would do if they found out. And above all, she was afraid of never waking up again.

Was it worth it?, she asked herself.

She gazed at her wedding ring once again, her tears flowing freely now.

Yes, it was.

Steeling her resolve, she unstoppered the vial and quaffed the contents. She gasped at the acrid taste, and threw the empty vial away. Soon, she lay on the bed, to sick to move.

She only had one last coherent thought before the darkness overwhelmed her.

Romeo, Romeo……I come.

***END***

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ANNOUNCEMENT: Burn Notice 3×13 “Partners in Crime” Review

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen – My first review will be on the Burn Notice episode “Partners in Crime” (3×13). Expect to see it here in a couple of days….or tomorrow, depending on how bored I am.

Meanwhile, to whet your curiosity, here’s a couple of screenshots of the episode.

Ta ta!

Blast From the Past: An ANZAC Story

This was a story that I wrote back in school for an ANZAC Day contest. In case you didn’t know, ANZAC Day (April 25th, 1915) was the day that the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZACs) attacked Gallipoli during WW1. It is now celebrated every year among Australian and New Zealand Citizens.

I didn’t win anything in that competition. I feel robbed. 😦

But what do YOU think? Tell me about it!

***
ANZAC Cove, Gallipoli
April 25
th, 1915 (0415 hours)

It was almost time. The boats had been released at 3.30. Landing would be at 4.30.

As the man checked his rifle again, he noticed that his hands were trembling slightly. He quickly stuffed them into his pockets, hoping nobody noticed his fear.

But then, he reasoned, there was good cause to be.

He was First Lieutenant Stephen Cole, leader of the 9th Battalion in the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. A young man, he had a lean physique and sandy blond hair. But as of right now, he was slightly apprehensive at the sight ahead.

Squinting through the early morning fog, Cole could just barely make out the outline of land. Gallipoli. Ground Zero.

Their orders were clear. Land, kill the enemy, and then establish a defensive perimeter until reinforcements arrived. Simple…….except for the thousands of Turks waiting to massacre them. And that very thought chilled him to the marrow.

Cole glanced at the soldiers around him. They were all young men, fresh from Australia and eager for battle. Right now, though, they all had varying degrees of fear on their faces, not knowing what lay ahead.

Cole knew what they were all thinking. Would they ever come out of this alive? All had families, loved ones, friends back in Australia and New Zealand. Would anyone of them ever see them again?

“Five minutes, sir. Five minutes till landing.” came the whispered voice of Captain Joseph Stratford, his best friend and second-in-command. Cole smiled, thinking back to the days where they grew up together, played together, and now, were about to attack Gallipoli together. If anything, he hoped that Stratford would survive this.

Five minutes, Stratford had said. Very well. There was one more thing to do.

Cole reached into his back pocket, pulling out, and gazing at a piece of torn cardboard containing a face that he knew very well. Janet O’Hara. His fiancée. Hardly a moment went by without him thinking of her, of her sweet, soft smile and those beautiful brown eyes. They were going to get married after this mission was over. If he survived, that is.

The ship moved into shallower water. It was almost time. Cole put the picture back in his pocket. This was it.

As the familiar pang of fear hit him, he glanced at his team. All were waiting for him to lead them. And he couldn’t let them down. They were his mates.

Cole drew in a deep breath.

The bugle sounded, a single blast. And Cole made a fateful decision that day.

He leapt out of the boat, followed by Stratford, gun in hand. The rest followed.

Minutes later, gunfire broke the silence of the early morning. The battle for Gallipoli had begun.

Captain Joseph Stratford was the first ANZAC to be killed at Gallipoli. He is now buried at Lone Pine, having been shot to death by machine-gun fire.

First Lieutenant Stephen Cole died from single gunshot wounds to the head and chest. He was found clutching the photograph of his fiancée, Janet O’Hara.

Other than slight injuries, no other casualties were suffered in that first incursion.

***END***

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In the beginning…..

….A blog was born. Called “The Write Stories”, this blog was used to display the finest of its creator’s stories and reviews ever written. And here it is now.

I am the author, and I’m honoured to share my work with the world, and you the readers. So, stories, and occasionally reviews, will be posted here for all of you to read. All I ask in return is that you post your questions, comments, or even snide remarks, and tell all your friends to look up this blog.

Or if you don’t like it, your enemies. As long as you tell people.

Stories will be announced a few days before they are released.

In the immortal words of Heath Ledger’s Joker: “And here…..we…..go.”