This is a first person POV ending for an english essay where I am to pick up the story and write the ending. Opinions please?

POV: Princess

"He walked to the door on the right and opened it."

Everyone watched with bated breath as my love stood in the opening of the door, waiting for either a ravenous tiger, or an elegant woman to walk out of the door. I knew better. My silk chiton flowed around me in an elegant manner, making me seem like a goddess in the harsh sunlight. My father beside me as he watched eagerly for the fate of my beloved. After a few moments the crowd grew suspicious, for something had yet to enter the arena with the young man. The crowd waited for a few minutes, then a few more.

By then Father was confused and frustrated, but could not show it as the crowd was looking to him for the clue that something was going on. I stood and adjusted the fabric of my gown in such a way it would neglect to show the darkened stain on its glittering silk to the waiting people. With a ringing voice, I commanded the guards standing around the edges of this terrible place to enter the chamber to see what was taking so long. I knew why the beast nor the lady had yet to show themselves. But I kept quiet.

As my father's men cautiously invaded the dark cavern I sent out a silent plea for forgiveness, knowing today would haunt them forever. That didn't stop me from doing what I must, and I had no regrets. There was a startled shout followed by three more as they discovered what was waiting inside.

The four men slowly dragged the body of a once beautiful woman, now disfigured and with a look of terror from her last moments etched upon her face. Under the expensive robes, and silks, and jewels that had adorned her on what should have been her wedding day, glared a gaping wound on her chest.

The crowd recoiled in shock and several screamed. This was an unforeseen event, one that had never happened, and Father was outraged that someone had managed to not only discover the secret of the arena's doors, but that his perfect system had been uprooted. The man I loved for many months dropped to the ground in horror and wept over his dead bride's body, and I felt the cold sting of shock bathe my entire being. How could he weep over another, one he had never known, when he had my love to come back to? How could he mourn the loss of someone he had seen but once and only as a corpse? As the sting of betrayal and the weight of the crime suddenly rushed upon me I turned and fled to the waiting carriage that was to take me back to the palace.

I was shocked out of my reverie by the voice of the coachman asking me if I was alright and if the trial was over. I collected myself and with a calm voice told the story of the trial, and weaved the lie that I was so upset over seeing someone so young and beautiful die so tragically, I simply couldn't bear to stay. Thankfully he took the hurried lie and rushed me home to where I sat in my bed chambers looking at my once beautiful chiton, now stained with an angry red discoloration.

I picked up my gown and took it to the washroom, as I did the silver knife I had plunged into the girl's chest fell out of the hidden fold the tailors had snuck in for me. I remember the pleasure I felt as the blade sunk deep into her chest, as I watched with morbid fascination as the life drained out of her slowly. The satisfaction in knowing that he was still mine. After all, if I can't have him, no one can.

As I stood scrubbing the stain however, anger overtook me. How dare he weep over her? Does he not know what I went through to ensure we would always be together, how if they looked in the other chamber they would also find the tiger dead lying on the sand. The way I tortured my mind and ripped apart my soul. Even now after I have scrubbed for hours I still see the cursed spot, staining my hands and everything around it red with an innocent woman's blood. It was slowly taking over my body and driving me insane. I scrubbed until my hands were covered in welts from the boiling water, until I had all but ruined the delicate silk of the garment in my quest to get that damned spot out.

Finally I stopped scrubbing and I saw day had turned to night, I picked up the gown satisfied until I saw the spot still there, glaring and brighter red than ever. In haste to feel the weight of the crime off my shoulders, I ran to the furnace room and threw the cursed gown in watching it burn slowly, feeling the weight lift off me at last. But then I looked down and my hands were stained violent red and the weight was back, the blood was staining my hands and was making its way up my arms to consume my entire being, shouting out to the world what I had done.

I had given up my innocence, my sanity, just for a man who did not return my feelings and who did not see what I did for him! The horrid color had made its way to the front of my eyes and the crime I had had committed was staring me in the face. I slammed my doors and bolted them shut frantically looking around my bed chamber and saw her, the lady beckoning me to where the dagger lay, forgotten. I shakily walked over and with trembling hands lifted it to my chest. I felt the woman embrace me closing her arms around me and her hand covering mine on the handle of the sharp blade. With her guiding me I let the madness take over and plunged the blade deep into my chest, the same place I had torn the woman open. The last thing I saw before darkness was a tiger's jaws closing in on me.

Is this good to turn in?