TITLE: Juliet Caesar
AUTHOR: Kakia, KakiaGuerin@aol.com
POV: Liz
DISCLAIMER: I don't own.
DEDICATION: To Shakespeare, who else?
I should have known.
Maria spends every Saturday night with me, unless she has a date. How could I not have realized, when she started missing them? Because she was tired? Maria doesn't *get* tired. I, of all people, should know that. She's the happy-sunshine-crack-addict one. *I* get tired.
They didn't know I saw them. Of course not. Their tongues were halfway down each others' throats--why would they look up just because Liz Parker was watching through the window, crying?
I've already lost Max. But guys are only so much. I can survive without Max. But Maria, too?
That slut. That cheap, filthy whore. First she goes after my boyfriend, and then she breaks Kyle's heart. But no, that's not good enough for her. So she finally settles with my best friend.
Ex. Ex-best friend.
Because best friends don't sleep with best friends' enemies. Everyone knows that. I bet even Tess knows that rule. But Maria? It's lost on her.
I pick up the knife on the dresser, and run my finger along the steel blade. I admire the way the sun gleams off from it. It's beautiful. But the sun is only a product of my depraved imagination. There is no sun.
The edge is sharp. This won't be painless; not by a long shot. But it's worth it, because physical pain drives the emotional pain away.
And Juliet will kill herself once again. Just like in the play. But this time, it's not because of Romeo. Romeo could be off fucking Mercutio this time, and she wouldn't give a flying crap. It's because Juliet's best friend betrayed her. For her enemy.
I find a piece of paper and a red pen in the desk drawer. Red like blood. Like the blood red of Maria's lips backstabbing me. Like the blood that will be spilled tonight. Why must we shed blood? Why are you killing me, Maria?
I am Juliet Capulet. Or was it Julius Caesar? He died because his best friend betrayed him, as I will.
Juliet. Julius. Juliet Caesar.
My vision is blurred, and my cheeks are wet. Why? Why what? I don't understand. Am I out of my mind? Probably. I don't care. I have to get this over with.
I take the pen, and write my final note. She'll understand. Three words:
*Et tu, Maria?*
Then I turn on to my stomach and bring the knife down into the middle of my back.
AUTHOR: Kakia, KakiaGuerin@aol.com
POV: Liz
DISCLAIMER: I don't own.
DEDICATION: To Shakespeare, who else?
I should have known.
Maria spends every Saturday night with me, unless she has a date. How could I not have realized, when she started missing them? Because she was tired? Maria doesn't *get* tired. I, of all people, should know that. She's the happy-sunshine-crack-addict one. *I* get tired.
They didn't know I saw them. Of course not. Their tongues were halfway down each others' throats--why would they look up just because Liz Parker was watching through the window, crying?
I've already lost Max. But guys are only so much. I can survive without Max. But Maria, too?
That slut. That cheap, filthy whore. First she goes after my boyfriend, and then she breaks Kyle's heart. But no, that's not good enough for her. So she finally settles with my best friend.
Ex. Ex-best friend.
Because best friends don't sleep with best friends' enemies. Everyone knows that. I bet even Tess knows that rule. But Maria? It's lost on her.
I pick up the knife on the dresser, and run my finger along the steel blade. I admire the way the sun gleams off from it. It's beautiful. But the sun is only a product of my depraved imagination. There is no sun.
The edge is sharp. This won't be painless; not by a long shot. But it's worth it, because physical pain drives the emotional pain away.
And Juliet will kill herself once again. Just like in the play. But this time, it's not because of Romeo. Romeo could be off fucking Mercutio this time, and she wouldn't give a flying crap. It's because Juliet's best friend betrayed her. For her enemy.
I find a piece of paper and a red pen in the desk drawer. Red like blood. Like the blood red of Maria's lips backstabbing me. Like the blood that will be spilled tonight. Why must we shed blood? Why are you killing me, Maria?
I am Juliet Capulet. Or was it Julius Caesar? He died because his best friend betrayed him, as I will.
Juliet. Julius. Juliet Caesar.
My vision is blurred, and my cheeks are wet. Why? Why what? I don't understand. Am I out of my mind? Probably. I don't care. I have to get this over with.
I take the pen, and write my final note. She'll understand. Three words:
*Et tu, Maria?*
Then I turn on to my stomach and bring the knife down into the middle of my back.