Tybalt's Redemption

By: 1000th Ghost

I cannot move. Where am I? I cannot breath. What happened? I cannot think straight. Who am I?

I can open my eyes. I do. I stare at something gray. It looks like stone. How very strange. I am flat on my back. Shouldn't I be in bed? But the stone…I know my chamber does not have a stone roof. So if I'm not in my chamber, then where on earth am I?

I glance to the right. At first I think my eyes deceive me. I blink several times, thinking the dim light plays tricks on my eyes. After several seconds, I come to the conclusion that it is not. A corpse! Lying on a table next to me is a corpse! It is in a state of decay, but bits of flesh still hang on its bones as though it tries to cling onto life as long as possible. I shudder looking at it, my joints shocked into movement. It disturbs me, and yet for some reason I find it fascinating. Questions begin to race through my mind. Who is this? I suppose I should say was. Did he have a family? How did he die? But perhaps the most burning question that raced through my mind was, "Why was he brought here?" Why is he not peacefully resting in a mausoleum or safely residing in a grave? Why is he here? And, more importantly, why am I here with him?

With great struggle I manage to sit up. I cry out at what I see. Cadavers, everywhere! Some are mere skeletons, some still decay, and some look as if they are merely asleep.

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I am in a tomb! The Capulets, the Montagues, Mercutio, Romeo, my death, everything came flooding back to me. What am I now? Am I a ghost? Am I an apparition? Whatever I am, I am most certainly not alive, all because of that idiotic Romeo!

Romeo! The coward! The scoundrel! The knave! I continue shouting names into the darkness of the crypt, hoping it will soothe my spirit. In reality, all it does is make me angrier than I was before. Why was it I that should have to die? Why not him? A Montague! Oh, what I wouldn't give to see him dead before me!

In the middle of my rant, I happen to glance down. My heart leaps with joy, for there lays Romeo! Ah, so the villain did die after all! He was probably attacked by my men; how noble they are! Well, then, perhaps my death was not such a waste!

It takes me a moment to notice the figure lying on top of him. It is…but it couldn't be! Juliet? But how? Why? My dear sweet cousin, so innocent and full of life, why did such a fate have to befall her? Who is the fiend who has stolen her life from her?

A knife is stabbed deep in her chest. I glance around the catacomb, hoping to find her murderer lurking in the shadows so that I may take my vengeance upon him. I look at my lifeless cousin once again. Her hand is on the handle of the dagger. What…suicide? What on earth would provoke such a young girl to do such a thing?

I take a glimpse at her face, and her expression reads something I never would have expected. It is one of contentment, one of love and hope. I wonder why? The same sort of expression dwells on Romeo. If I didn't know any better, I would say that those two were in love! But, of course, that is impossible! Isn't it?

I want to continue hating Romeo. I want to continue hating all the Montagues! But seeing the peaceful look on the two lovers faces, I know I cannot. Why do we even hate the Montagues? What have they ever done to us? Perhaps they did something dreadful a long time ago, but now? Can we not learn to forgive and forget?

I feel as if I no longer carry an enormous weight on my shoulders. I also feel tired, incredibly tired. The stone slab looks very inviting. I think I shall rest here for awhile, if not longer. After all, with hate no longer in my life, what is there for me to do?