Okay, okay. I get it sounds like a horror story. To "Get back from the death", the thing is I never really died. I know it sounds weird and unlikely but who knows what that little tube contained. Ugh, the Friar and his potions; not only did the liquid tasted incredibly bitter and bad, but it did not help Romeo and I.
Romeo. Oh my poor love. That stupid liquid really helped us shit for I woke after he had stabbed himself because of my "death". I swear to God, if I knew the Friar was alive I would kill him (well not really, blood makes me sick. But you get the point).
Let me break it down for you guys. After all the tears had been shed and I had a funeral I woke up again. Yes, very Sleeping Beauty like (no prince or kiss tho, what a bummer). And I guess I should be celebrating my life but it gets boring after centuries of walking the Earth. And doing high school repetitively is not fun. You see, when I died I was fourteen, now I look like a seventeen year old girl (girls now a days age really slowly, maybe it had to do with the fact that he died earlier before?) and apparently that's how I am going to look for the rest of my "life". Same tanned skin, same brown hair (the style changes often, form short to long and back again, sometimes dyed by I prefer my own color), same set of green eyes.
Oh, by the way, you guys know the Romeo and Juliet story written by that Shakespeare dude? Yep, that's my story and my work. Well, technically it was not written by me but I was the one to tell William the story. I met him once when he was on a tavern, the guy was so drunk he did not even realize I was a girl but he did remember the story I told him. Why did I tell him my tragic love story (well, I changed some details as you can see, it would have been really weird to talk about immortality back then)? First, because it was one of those days where my hormones were all over the place and I felt sorry for myself and depressed. Second, because I was tired of being alone and really wanted to know if there was a chance Romeo was still alive (hey, a girl can dream) and find me.
Believe me when I say I hate when an English teacher decides to use my story. I have heard it all. People who hate it, people who love it, people who even invent stuff to try and get a good grade. What can I say? I guess a romantic tragedy is not for everyone. I guess some teenagers prefer to read about some sparkly vampire and a chick who smells good (I am not judging...but really? sparkly? why not have him burn like a normal vampire? okay, I said I was not judging). But, what gets me really pissed is when people say all Romeo and I ever wanted was to have sex and we got carried away by our hormones. You do not get how many times I've heard that "stupid teenagers" chat. You did not live on that century people! Yes, I was (or still am? i don't know) fourteen, but you were considered mature at that age. Mature enough to get married anyway. And sex? Really? We did get some, so what's the big deal? It was not sex. It was love. Real, true love.
Anyhow, today I am known by the name of Juliet Barstow. I finally get to have my original name back! Juliet! People have not called me by that name in centuries (I've had pretty much all the names, you say it and I probably had it once). I am Juliet Barstow form New York city, yes just like the names I've lived all around the world )I like better cities than small towns tho).
You might be wondering who takes care of me, the answer is my Nurse. What-How is she still alive? She is not my Nurse nurse, my Nurse found me months after I have risen "form the dead" and she took care of me not questioning nor telling my parents in the process. She seemed to believe me when I told her about the potion from the Friar, the woman had doubts about that mans intentions. Anyway, my Nurse's family promised me protection and so I've been taken care form generation to generation. My Nurse right now is rather young and we are making people believe she is my big sister. Her name is Catherine and I adore her! She is the sweetest and since she is twenty four she often gets me and I get her. Ever since I came to New York four years ago we've become the best of friends, I actually consider her my sister.
Right now you might be imaging us as the "girls just wanna have fun" type but we are so not. We live on a small apartment on Brooklyn, I go to school with the socialites on Manhattan (very gossip girl like there I must say) But this is my life which means I have to study to keep my scholarship, which means not much parties, which means I am do not aim high on the food-social pyramid. Not that I care, this is just one of my many lives. Besides, most of those girls are air heads with bleached hair and unnaturally white teeth, a puppy on one hand and a mocha on the other. If only they knew I was a Capulet, things would be so different then.
Now the depressing part of my long life. I have never connected with someone since Romeo. I know it's been centuries and a girl must move on but I can not. I have had boyfriends (and from the variety of my lives they had been from somebodies to nobodies - and lately there have been none) but no one have been like him. One should not compare past loves but how can I not when my Romeo just aimed too high, leaving everyone else look like a they are not even trying. Sometimes I wonder if it was really for the best our meeting. I feel bad to have there feelings, it's just that sometimes it hurts. A lot.
My only friend right now is Sam, he is my best friend (other than Cat). He is the sweetest person and ever since we met he have always tried to make me feel welcome. And our meeting was not peasant. If having a smoothie thrown all over your clothes is your cup of tea then my meeting with Sam might have been a pleasant thing for your life. I was so not made to work on a smoothie bar (Sam agrees with me on that one) and that was the only job I could find four summers ago. It was a hot summer day and in comes Sam with his friends, they come to the counter and ask for their drinks but what failed was the delivery. When I went to leave their drinks Sam thought it might be a good idea to get up right when I was behind him. Poor Sam, he had had smoothie residues all over him. We still laugh at the memory, as I said sweetest guy I've met here. The weirdest thing is Sam is one of those guys who aim high on the food-social chain (he is funny and everybody likes him. Okay, i guess he is good looking...if you are into blondes and jock-looking guys) and still he prefers to spend his time with me. He is also one of the reasons why I am not at the bottom of the chain.
Guys, last night I saw a guy, and not just any looking guy. It might have been dark but I could have swore he looked a lot (and I mean A TON) like Mercutio. He had the same black wavy hair (it was longer tho) and it was dark but I could still distinguish his angular face and roman nose. Weird. I was just walking my way to catch the metro back from work, (babysitting, sometimes walking dogs for the Manhattan people) when I saw him, he was getting out from a sleek car. Mercutio or not I could tell the guy was new to the city, why drive a car when you could take cabs? Besides, New York on rush hour is not pretty. No even when you own a sport car.
Whatever. You might be wondering why am I telling you all this? Well, tomorrow is my first day as a senior and who knows what expects me (I don't mean that academically for I've been through that before). Next year maybe I could start college (maybe if I use heavy make up I could look older?) and go to university with Cat.
Who am I kidding? I am Juliet Capulet, I "died" centuries ago. My chance to have a lie died when I drank the last drop on that tube the Friar gave me. I am not even supposed to be here to tell this story. Why have fate been so cruel with me? I am sure I would not have complained if I at least had someone to keep me company for the rest of my "life".
Note:
Little different is it not? I guess this is the result of me not being able to sleep.
I hope you guys liked this, I think I might continue with this
cheers:)