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I had a fight with my uncle that morning,
He was scolding me- over something I don’t remember, over something I didn’t care about. Over coming home buzzed, over speaking too loudly, putting my elbows on the table, something unladylike I don’t remember. Something I must’ve did wrong— He only looked at me when I did something wrong, as if all he could see was the badness in me.
Like there was nothing else.
Soft quiet moments of submissive behavior go unnoticed, and unpraised. Unpunished. I slammed the castle doors behind me when I left, and I yelled something about my parents. Something I don’t remember, something I don’t care about.
I vowed I wouldn’t come back till the sun was down— And the beaming sun- terrible whore that she was- scalded my skin and made my face hot. The pavement of Verona streets was sizzling, and it felt like the hand of the midtown clock was ticking slower than my heartbeat. The sun just wouldn’t go down, and I couldn’t get my mistempered mind to settle.
I won’t go home until the sun is down. I didn’t glance at the clock anymore. That afternoon, I kept thinking about Romeo. He had left dinner hastily the night before, and despite his good mood, the way he pushed his chair in left a pit in my stomach. The smile on his face brought me such joy- so much so it made me nauseous with its intensity. Romeo, Romeo- Romeo is the wretched sun that boils my blood beneath my flushed skin.
That afternoon, I think I was too mean to Benvolio. I might’ve snapped at him too quickly, said something more venomous than I intended. Any playfulness in my tone was lost and evaporated in the summer sun. I might’ve blamed him for something he didn’t do, nudged his arm too hard. I don’t think he noticed.
When the hand of the clock struck noon, Romeo does not show up first, but Tybalt does. I don’t remember what he said to me exactly when he approached, maybe he hadn’t spoken to me at all. He was looking between us when he said it. Maybe that’s why I spoke before Benvolio, why I interrupted his plead for peace.
If Tybalt would look at me, I was certain he’d give me a reason to express my withdrawn rage.
Maybe I was too quick to draw my sword, I pulled it before Romeo even arrived.
And Romeo,
Oh,
Romeo.
He showed up wearing all white, and he looked like he hadn’t slept for a second But that glimmer in his eyes was stronger than ever when he waved at me across the street- he hadn’t noticed Tybalt standing there. His smile was so big- and the sun kissed freckles on his face beamed with his squinting eyes.
I think he must’ve distracted me. My anger had somewhere to go, but I forgot what I was even angry about when Romeo came in between us that day. I don’t remember why I was so angry that morning. I don’t remember if the sun was really hotter that day, or if I was imagining things. I don’t know why my face felt so hot, or why my side started burning like hot metal.
Underneath Romeo’s arm, Tybalts sword was sticking in my lung. I knew that, because all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe. When I locked eyes with Romeo, the ocean inside them drowned me so much so I couldn’t breathe anymore. The blues of his big doting eyes clogged my throat with water— Water with a metallic taste, water that boiled like blood underneath the Verona sun.
Ah,
I’m bleeding.
I’m dying.
When that thought crossed my mind, I managed to focus me eyes for just a second. With blurring vision, I can see
Everybody is looking at me. Everybody… is staring at me. Like they’re waiting for something.
Waiting for a joke,
For me to die?
I don’t remember
what I said as blood filled my lungs,
I don’t remember why I was so angry.
I cursed it— I looked at the sky, at the crowd, at my brother, my soul, my friend— my Romeo—
And I said something I don’t remember,
Something I don’t care about.