Last moments
There is nothing left.
With Romeo, there was something more than love: there was a choice. Freedom to choose the one to spend her life with, to exist as something more than a bargaining chip, to love ferociously, freely, without an obligation. To live apart from the hostile heat of Verona and its cobblestone streets running with blood, nothing but peace and love.
But now all those plans lie bloodied and cold at her feet, a crumpled, beautiful, but lifeless hulk on the stone floor. In the darkness, she could hear voices calling. It was a future imprisoned in a convent. It was a future as another man's possession. A future without any hope. A future where all choice would be eliminated.
Where is there left to go?
A/N: A lot of people criticize this play by saying Juliet just "killed herself because Romeo was dead," but I always felt there was something beyond that, a sense of despair at living in a violent world in which she, as a woman, is allowed little agency. I actually find her to be one of Shakespeare's most interesting female characters. At any rate, don't think I'm endorsing suicide as an escape from one's problems. I just wanted to get inside her head.