I stood at his grave, it had been days sense my last visit. When had I even gotten into the habit of going daily to his grave? He had been dead for naught a fort-night before I had found myself here every day. Every day seemed to uncontrollibly weighted sense he had passed... Marcutio was the only one who found a way to break me from this heavy reality. He always mannaged to bring cheer back to everyones sorrow... I recall his moccory of Romeo on the night of the Capulet party... why did we find it so utterly nessisary to attend that cursed party... That night his rambelings of dreams... his words more meaningful then seen at a glance... His words I still recall clearly... "And in this state she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and they dream of love..." He had said, and at that moment he had looked at me for a moment, before Romeo had spoken.

Romeo my beloved cousin... such illfate cast upon our family, but I blame you not! Such twisted fate forced upon us, but we have no choice on what cercumstances we are forced into. Oh, if we were to of known the end of this tragic love story, should we of made a change to our plans? I dont belive so... so much happiness born alongside so much woe... would this be a perfect world all love would be recognised... even mine... O' Romeo, my dearst cousin, should your tragety have ended well, would I still be overcast with such sorrow? Should it matter? I shant linger upon such sad thoughts now... O' Marcutio I hope in the otherworld you find yourself in happier places. Or should we have not been through this, dear Marcutio should my joys been realised? Romeo and Juliet were not the only star crossed loveres in this story were they? I felt a slight smile creep onto my face. Once again your words creep to mind. "True, I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind." but Marcutio were our dreams as such? Oh yes they were, for who would of accepted such a thing?

I recall just how amazing you were that dredful day. The sun had been so dreadfully hot, and you never stoped your foolishness for a moment, until the capulets came. You had wanted to quarrel from the start good Marcutio, I could see it in your deep eyes. Romeo, poor Romeo, who knew not what he did, had refused to quarrel, but you did. O' Marcutio you shine brightest when your shrouded in such darkness. You moved beautifuly, for i know no other would have been able to do what you did. So sereas as you moved, but I said nothing. I watched, but what could I have done. I did all i could and that was witness. Should Romeo not interfired would you still be alive? You cursed our familys,you did. I knew the curse you had laid was to affect me, but you never thought of that did you dear Marcutio? It hurt me to of watched you die, and after that watching Romio's death aswell, but I stood through it, because I know you were there with me. Thither at the plaza where you had your last breaths sets a small memorial for you, most my doing. There sits a small box of letters from our youth. So much had we tryed to woo eachother, and yet we always seemed to hide so much.

Those beautiful letteres we shared, such beauty in words coming from such an idle and foolish men such as yourself and me. Romeo knew, of corse he knew. He was the only one who truely knew us well enough to see it. My heart still beats for thee. Ne'er had I thought of our friendship to become a suit, but how I had whished it would have. I leave you now my love... A simple red rose, left upon your grave to remind you I was here, as I go I leave you a new letter should it ne'er be opened by any other hands but yours, even if they are never to move again. Again I depart. Good Morrow...

Marcutio,

Was it fate that took you from my side? Such rancor in the world,

but shant we see eachother hither again, soft shall I till the day I shall see you again

In the other world. Soft I for that day with open arms, but shall that day come soon I

hope you welcome me with arms open for my arrival. Ne'er shall I forget you. Ne'er shall

I let you be forgoten, dear Marcutio should you forget me by the time I arive to that

beautiful place where you rest, methinks that be not posible but, I should let you be,

resting in your happiness. I shall see you soon my love.

Forever yours,

Benvolio

A week after this letter was left at Marcutio's grave Benvolio had not returned, and had died on the exact date of Marcutio's death.

Shakespearean Terms:

hither: here

methinks: I think

ne'er: never

rancor: hatred

Woe: sorrow

star-crossed: unlucky

idle: lazy

woo: to date or seduce

soft: wait

suit(or): proposal or one who proposes

thither: there