DICLAIMER: I do not own the play Antigone; it was written by Sophocles and I'm not, in any way, benefiting financially from this short story.  There are references to the play King Oedipus, which is under the same circumstances mentioned above. 

Death before the Grave

They held my arms tight, their lips sealed and their faces contorted with a mix of pain and...uncertainty?  It didn't matter.  They wouldn't help me and it seems like no one will; Haemon might've, perhaps, but no matter what words he might exchange with my former-future father-in-law, they wouldn't sway his decision.

Nor would I want it to.

I deserve the punishment I'm to receive, for the pain is my reward for the unlawful sin I've committed; not a heavenly sin, but a political one.  A true crime is one against the deities, but mine was one against a mortal King.  No doubt he believes his hands are clean, that they are not stained with the sin of murder.

I've known my punishment since before I made up my mind to do it.  And now, as they escort me to my tomb of corpses, I pray that Polynieces' soul went unharmed to those above, and that Creon's does the opposite; he deserves nothing more than to rot with me, with Persephone.

Slowly, I felt the tears come to my eyes, and despite my attempts to dissolve them, they spilled down my cheeks.  Why am I weeping, I asked myself, despite already knowing the answer deep down.

I cried because I'd lost hope.

My dreams of marrying Haemon and our children will go unconquered, my dreams and hopes of getting past the curse of Oedipus…  All are gone.  The darkness soon to surround my body was already soaking my soul.

Hopeless…

I sought the meaning of the word and…I've been living without hope since I sprinkled the first specks onto his body…I no longer hoped I would live, for my death was already finished by my own hand and the dust in it.  I felt my garments wet with light rain from my face; the pain I felt couldn't have been greater. 

I had thought to have it all; a husband-to-be, dreams, a family without curses…but all those things didn't matter, I realized.  No, nothing matters if you don't hope…

I was content because I had hope that my life of light would stay enlightened…but the curse of Oedipus runs strong in my blood still, and I was doomed since my birth, since my wretched father and oblivious mother conceived me.

My life was at its peak but days ago, and but a few days later it's hit as low as a mortal's existence can go before being cast into Hades, to suffer forever amongst the gods of hellfire.

My compensation for my prohibited crime, I thought bitterly, isn't death.  It's hopelessness…