Fire pumped through my veins, burning me. I tried to scream, but nothing would escape from my mouth. Nothing. I felt part of my body disappear. I knew I was dying. I was almost gone from life.
I heard a cry, then scream, then...silence.
All I could think of was one thing.
My Juliet. Juliet, Juliet, Juliet...
I opened my eyes. I was...floating? Standing on air. I glanced down and saw a magnificent thing. Light. Light pouring on soft grass and Earth. I smiled. That's where I want to be.
As if something read my mind, I began to fall, crashing down toward Earth. I didn't scream. I watched as the light came closer, closer, closer. Without a split second, I slammed into the ground. My left cheek ached from the hit, but my fascination covered that up.
I lifted my up to a sitting position, searching my surroundings. I was in a park that was full of people, horses, carriages, all types of extraordinary things!
A young boy came up to me, wide-eyed.
"Dude, did you fall outta that tree?" he asked.
I glanced up at the tree above me. I don't remember a tree, do I? I stared at the kid, sun in my eyes, and shrugged.
"Why you dressed like that? You on broadway?"
Enough with the questions. I was the one who should be asking questions. For example; What is this place? Why was I here? Why are the men and women wearing strange clothes? What is going on? Where is my beloved Juliet?
Too many examples. You get the point.
The kid glanced at his parents and ran toward them. As I sat there, coming up with more questions, a young woman ran past me. Her eyes seemed friendly, so I decided to confide in her. She wore these shorts, tight pants (too short to comprehend) and a sleeveless shirt with no part to cover the neck. She ran at a slow pace, so it was easy to follow her. What really bugged me was what were those things sticking out of her ears?
I had to run fast at first to catch her, but then I jogged at a normal pace. She didn't seem to notice me.
"Ho!" I exclaimed, beside her ear.
She took out the objects and stopped her jogging. I had to skid to a halt and walk a little back to her.
"What did you call me?" she snapped.
"I did not call thee anything," I called. "It's a greeting."
She only stared. "You got issues."
She began to jog again and I saw young men stare at her behind. I glared and began to jog after her.
"I am Romeo Montague," I rejoiced. "And thy name is?"
"Bree Anderson. Are you in production downtown and you are just in character?"
I only peered at her, confused. That's when she figured out I wasn't lying.
"Oh my god. Come on, I'll get you a ride to my place."
Bree grabbed my hand and dragged me through the park until we hit a street.
A scary ass street.
Strange metal things traveled down the road, with people sitting within them. Metallic carriages? I would never understand this place.
Bree whistled and a yellow metallic carriage pulled beside us. She jumped inside it, but I peered inside. Black seats, dark interior, it all screamed scary. I stood on the side, wondering if I should trust it. Bree seemed irritated inside.
"Get in, Romeo. It's a taxi."
The edge in her voice was scarier than the taxi, so I jumped in. Bree gave the man an address and he began. I planted my face against the window and felt awed by the scenery.
Large buildings hung over us, full of life. The streets were full of life as well and so may people. I could smell lovely things in the air. What kind of place is this? What had happened to my lovely Verona? Various questions loomed in my mind.
The taxi stopped in front of a luminous building. Bree handed the man money and headed up the stairs and into the building. Within a few flight of stairs, we arrived to her home.
Well, maybe I don't mean home...
Bree called in an apartment, which is small than a normal house. Her apartment was at least the size of my kitchen. She owned a living room, kitchen, and two bedrooms with bathrooms down the hall. It was a good size place, but I couldn't say much.
"Whom do thee live with?" I asked.
"Me, myself, and I," she answered, cleaning off the couch.
"I hath not heard of them," I answered, puzzled.
"It just means I live by myself."
A light bulb lit up.
Wait...huh?
"I see. Wherefore doth thee live hither with thyself?"
Bree stared at me, eyes sparkling, a grin slightly appearing. "You are a trip."
"Wherefore doth thee speak this way?" I wondered.
She searched the floor, as if for answers. Then light burned in her eyes. "Sit in front of the TV."
Since my puzzling look was so extravagant, she seemed a hint irritated. A TV?
"The box thing," she pointed to a metal box.
Bree picked up a rectangular object and pushed on it with one finger. Magically, a scenery with people and color appeared on the box. The scenes reflected on my curious eyes. I felt as if I even thought about blinking, all the miraculous things would disappear.
"Now, sit and watch," she ordered, kindly.
"Anon!" I exclaimed, already concentrating.
I plopped on the couch and had all my focus on the "TV". Different scenes of teenagers getting into bad amounts of trouble showed on the box. It was all very intriguing.
It felt like forever since I first started watching. I really caught onto their language. Bree stepped out of her room, her eyes a hint droopy.
She just woke up.
"Romeo, it's been seven hours," she complained.
I turned to her. I would never feel like my complete self again. "You people watch this crap?"
Her face brightened, tremendously. "I knew that would help you."
"I feel different," I now complained.
"That's because you are no longer Romeo Montague from the 1500s. You are now Romeo Montague from the 21st century," she twinkled.
"What year is it?" I whispered, a bit reluctant for the answer.
"2010."
I gulped. It has been exactly five hundred years after my death. I was chosen for a second chance, but heaven waited a bit too long.
My eyes widened.
Juliet.
"Where is my dear Juliet?" my voice cracked with worry.
"Bree's sight dropped to the floor. "Romeo, I'm so sorry, but I have no idea where Juliet is.
My heart dropped. I felt this wave of sad emotions sweep over me. Without any warning, anger took over. I picked up a vase, pulled it back under my chin, and threw it. It crashed into the wall, shattering into pieces. Bree didn't even jump.
"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I don't know what came over me."
"Don't worry," she sounded fine, but shaken. "That vase has been broken more than once."
"Whatever do you mean?"
She snuggled her robe closer and sat beside me. "I broke it when my boyfriend told me he was traveling to Italy."
"I'm so sorry. What is your boyfriend like?"
She exhaled. "He thinks he is always right and a big shot. But if he got into a fight, he would most likely get his ass kicked."
I felt sorry for her. She deserved someone better than that ass. "Who is he?"
"Ty. We've only been together for a month."
Not very long to know each other. Oh, look who's talking, I thought.
Bree faked a smile. "Would you like some hot chocolate?"
It sounded intriguing, so I agreed. As I waited for the hot drink, Bree called to me.
"Grab the blanket off the couch and go into my room."
"Whatever for?" I felt appalled.
"I have a fireplace in there."
I followed her orders, which was new for me. I walked down the dark hallway, filled with pictures of Bree and other people. I felt as if I was stumbling down a dark hole, never knowing what was on the other side. I couldn't. I couldn't find the light.
My dear Juliet. Lost. Lost in the world of death. I killed myself for her once, couldn't I do it again? No, I needed to help Bree. Not to mention I have to be here for some reason.
I reached Bree's room and sat in the edge of her bed, staring into the fire.
Images of Juliet danced in the flames. Her long luscious hair, sparkling eyes, beautiful face. Every inch of her features showed clearly. Her eyes found me and she spoke "I love you" but no sound came from her lips. It sure enough caught my attention, until I heard footsteps in the hallway. Without my sight on the image, she frowned and burst into sparks.
Bree walked in, handing me my mug. She put up one finger and left the room. My eyes flipped toward the...regular...fire. I sighed. Why did I lose contact?
Bree reappeared in the room, holding an item of clothing. She threw it to me and I stared at the large pair of shorts.
"They are Ty's. You can borrow them for tonight," Bree said, sounding amused.
"What are they?" I sounded horrified.
"Boxers."
"Huh?"
"Comfortable underwear for guys," she answered. "I'll turn around."
She spun around so her back was toward me. I took a deep breath and stripped off my clothing. I pulled on the boxers and exhaled in relief. I felt wonderful and free. Bree heard my relief, so she knew it was safe to turn back around.
I sat beside her again and remembered the pictures on the walls. A questions burned my skull.
"Where are your parents?"
I saw the light escape from her eyes. I almost felt sick. I regretted asking.
"I lost my father more than nine years ago," she began.
"How did he die?"
"He was a firefighter. His last job was to save the people trapped in the twin towers."
"That is?"
She forgot I just got here. Just yesterday, I committed suicide.
"9/11. September 11, 2001. The twin towers were these huge office corporations that stood here in Manhattan. Terrorists took control of the planes flying to New York City."
"What are terrorists?"
"People from the middle east, typically, that went to scare different countries with suicide missions."
"Suicide missions?" Was mine one of those?
"It means they kill themselves and other to do their mission."
It does sound like mine in a way.
"They crashed the planes into the twin towers and the Pentagon. Everyone on the planes died. Most people died in the towers as well."
"What did your father have to do with this?"
She stared me straight in the eyes, tears rising up. "My father's job was to save those people trapped inside. The towers collapsed before he could escape. I lost three people that day."
"You only explained one."
"My uncle worked in the towers. His son was flying on of those planes that crashed. My eldest brother, Philip, went into the towers to wait for my uncle. He died when the first plane crashed through. Daddy, Philip, and Greg never expected any of this."
She began to cry, but she forced herself to be strong. "My mother, she died two years ago in a car crash."
I was lost at words. She lost four loved one in less than a decade. I glanced over and saw two photographs. A family portrait and one of Bree with two older men. I grabbed the last one first.
"Who are they?"
She pointed to the elder one. He had a military haircut. "That's Philip. He just took leave from the Marines a couple of weeks before."
I stared at the one with longer hair and seemed rugged. "That's Drew. Philip was twenty-one when this happened. Drew was fourteen and I was eight. Philip would have been thirty by now. Drew's only twenty-three. He changed. He turned more rebellious and trouble-making when we lost everyone. I've lost contact with him since mom died."
A thought flickered in my mind. I'll find Drew for Bree. No matter what happened, he still has to love his little sister.
"Anyway," she tried to lighten up the mood. "Tomorrow, I am taking you to the mall to buy updated clothes. You have money on you?"
"Yes."
"We'll go by the bank to get your a credit card. We are to change your last name."
"Why?"
"Everyone knows Romeo Montague."
I didn't ponder questions yet.
"We'll have to get you signed up for driving tests as well. I'm going to have my uncle sign you up into school. You'll love my school. Would you like to go to a party with some of my friends in a couple of days?"
"Sure!" I thought it was like my parties.
"What about Cullen?"
"Why Cullen?"
Bree shrugged. "It's from a movie that's famous here."
It had a ring to it. "A movie?"
"It's like a TV but larger and better. Want to see a movie?"
"Yes!" I almost screamed.
I was obsessed with the TV.
"Well." Bree giggled. "You know where your room is. Good night."
"Good morrow," I corrected with enthusiasm.
She smiled. "Romeo Cullen."