ROMEO IS ALIVE

After Romeo drank his purchase from the apothecary, he sputtered and slowly slipped into unconsciousness, as was his goal. Juliet, waking, found Romeo dead on top of her and committed suicide. The Prince and the families of the young couple rushed into the chamber, where Laurence told of their secret marriage. As the proud heads of the two feuding families made peace, the effects of the poison that had seemed to cause Romeo’s death wore off. He had been duped; the poison did not end his life.

Aghast, the crowd in the burial chamber watched him cry over Juliet, and his sorrow was too much for the crowd to bear. They leave him with his misery, and wait outside. Unheeding, Romeo agonized on how his first plans for happiness went so horribly wrong, and suddenly realized his horrible mistake. Juliet had been alive when he drank the poison! She died because of him! Romeo sank into despair, his bloody love sinking in his arms, her dark blood staining his travelers clothing, making him look the part of a grisly murderer.

No! He cried silently, it could not have been my fault my wife is dead. His pain wreaked mind groped for someone to lay blame on. Friar Laurence, for marrying them, if I had not been married, she would have not been desperate enough to kill herself. No, that did not sound right. Why did I have to meet this maiden who would give me so much grief! He thought wildly, and remembered the party, where he had first met his deceased love. Mercutio! Mercutio was the guilty one, by all reason. Or Benvolio, were they not the ones who led Romeo to the party where he met his doom?

So he stayed for a day and a night, and none dared enter, for he had attacked with such a fury those who dared disturb him that he was declared mad, and unfit for human contact as a result of mind-killingl grief. Why did he not kill himself like Juliet? Because Romeo needed to know why this had come to pass. After a day of torment, he decided that fate had squashed him with a finger, and there was no denying the fact. With an unnerving calm, he emerged from the cavern, dust made mud by blood clinging to his clothing, and hugged his father, Juliet’s father, and kissed the cheek of everyone present. With worried faces they watched as he strode back into the burial chamber, standing as straight as a rod, and with inhuman strength closed the door opening. He was never seen again, but the most unhappy blooms marked the places he had treaded as he had given his goodbyes to the two families, sealing their newfound friendship.