Helena
Unfortunately for me, the garden did not remain silent for long. Fleeting minutes later I hear the sound of footsteps and giggles of voices all-too recognisable. Here comes Hermia and Lysander. I am unable to duck off the path before they see me.
"How now fair Helena, wither away?" Hermia's voice stops me in my tracks, then I turn, realizing that if I act as I truly am I shall give something away and so resort to acting a Demetrius-obsessed fool. Today this involves going on a long-winded, self-deprecating, primarily one-sided angsty conversation begging Hermia to reveal how she keeps Demetrius in love with her. I expected this conversation to be completely fruitless in every regard and so look forward to it ending when Hermia says, "Take comfort, he shall never see me more. Lysander and I will flee to through the woods beyond the city limits and so get married without my father's consent. Farewell, sweet friend, and with good luck you shall have your Demetrius." In a similar manner Lysander bid me adieu and in parting Hermia kissed my lips. I nearly fell over from shock and emotion, quickly recovering so they wouldn't notice. This proved to be unnecessary, as, as usual, the two lovebirds were so engrossed in each other that they wouldn't have noticed had I suddenly sprouted wings and flown in front of them.
How happy some or other some can be.
Others of us, however, can only watch as a boy takes away their best friend. Yet as much as I tried to convince myself that that's all Hermia is to me-a best friend-it was becoming increasingly difficult to to do so. I had noticed months ago that upon seeing her my heart skipped a beat, that I was always somewhat anxious around her, anxious I might upset or displease her, and of course I saw she was beautiful. Who could not? These were the thoughts I was running from, this the potential shame I covered with the ruse concerning Demetrius. I hadn't ever fully realized them before, so I guess I was more successful at running from my own thought than I knew. It all would have been fine. Really, I would have let her walk away, would have never seen her again, but she kissed me. She kissed me in the most platonic of manners and yet with that kiss all the emotion and thoughts of her I had been ignoring rushed through my head. With that ever-brief kiss I sprouted wings and flew away. Thus, in that moment, I knew I was hopelessly in love with her, and no amount of mental persuasion otherwise could occur. In that moment, I knew I must at least tell her before she left me for good.
This provided somewhat of a challenge. She was going to be packing, "praying in solitude" she told her father, until the night of her departure. I could not see her before then. I could also not simply follow her into the forest, as Lysander would never leave her side, and I was loathe to profess my love of Hermia to her boyfriend. That seemed like a wonderful idea should I wish to killed. I needed some way of forcing Lysander away from her, some distraction...some challenge. Challenge provided distraction, and who better to challenge the love of Hermia than that obnoxious, self-entitling bastard I was "fawning over." I jest not in saying that an unassuming cobblestone could prompt a duel out of him. With this I cemented my plan. I would tell Demetrius of their flight as they were fleeing. In this way, instead of warning her father against it, he would pursue them, and I, true to my part, would claim love bid me follow him. In this manner, the four of us would be in the forest alone together
It was a perfect plan.