Introduction
After Romeo and Juliet died, no one was the same. Just a week after the funeral, Lady Capulet died, as the same as Lady Montague, of grief. Not a pity, really. Lord Capulet married again a month later to this other teen by the name of Saria. Needless to say, it didn't last long. Lord Montague, however, stayed faithful to his deceased wife and never married. The nurse began to flirt with Friar Lawrence, but Friar Lawrence returned it with an airy word. But still, temptation drew the nurse to continue. Even though the two households held a peaceful alliance, the citizens of Verona still gave them a wide berth, just in case. And in time, the Prince became King of Verona, and a wise one at that. Benvolio, now Benvolio was a different story, and that is the story that shall be told.
Benvolio
It was the end of the two lovers' funerals as the red, puffy-eyed Benvolio stumbled onto the streets. "Why!? Why?! You stupid fellow, Romeo!" He whispered to the sky. He lowered his face to stare at the ground so none could see that he was crying. Yet, if you looked carefully, you could've seen each drop of teardrop every single time the one before it splashed onto the cold stone floor. Funny, for it was the middle of summer. But does it matter? Romeo was a kinsman to poor Benvolio. Not only that, but Romeo was also his friend. Not a wise one, but still his friend. And now he's gone, among Juliet and Mercutio. Poor boy, now he has no one to play with. He clenched his hands to stop it from trembling.
Alas, people were leaving the courtyard, and now they were heading back to the town square where he stood. He panicked; wouldn't people be disgusted if they found him crying like a two-year old boy? So now what? He did the only thing that came to his mind: he ran into the deserted part of the city. The three boys, Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio, always came here when they were younger. At least he still knew this part of the city.
He continued winding himself through the lost streets for awhile, thinking, Will I always be like this? Lonely? That was all he could think of write now, for then he heard a noise. It sounded like a muffled cry? Curious, Benvolio turned around a corner, and gasped at what he saw. It was a girl, young woman, actually, around his age. She sat on the ground as every breeze streamed through her coal black hair and dress. Her dress was the same color as her hair. Awkward, Benvolio thought, no one would wear a dress like that color, unless....
He cautiously strode toward, and whispered in a voice only this girl would be able to hear, "Madam, what causes you to cry so?"
The girl, now alas paying attention to her surroundings, looked up. In front of her stood a boy. He dressed as many of the mourners today in Verona: a black white tunic tucked into brown breeches. Over his tunic was a white shirt. Very drab.....but still. She turned pink in the cheeks and stared hard at her trembling hands set on her lap. Yet, she still did not smile. In a hushed voice she said, "My love....is gone."
Benvolio was not surprised. Exactly as I thought; no one would cry so much unless they know them. They'd have to know them a lot. She was in love with Romeo, but who is she? Should I ask?
"Hm?" The secret admire of his friend had said something.
"I said, 'Why are you crying?' I've been crying enough to know when
someone else is crying."
Benvolio turned quiet. The girl looked into his face as she talked. When she did, he felt warm inside. What was this feeling? Finally, he had the courage to say," I lost someone, too. Not a love, but a friend, family."
"Oh."
There was a brief silence. The wind picked up between them and collided into the two young adults. Because her hair was long, the wind blew it into the girl's face. She used her gentle fingertips to comb her hair and bring it behind her ear. Very gracefully, she stood and said, "If you are talking about what I think you are talking about, then you must be talking about Romeo!"
Benvolio was taken by surprise. So far, all he was doing was staring at her hand. "Now he was paying attention at the name of his cousin. "How did you know?"
She shrugged. "I just know. But excuse me, sir. Would you be so kind as to show me out of this place? I, uh, got myself lost." She looked down to hide a blush.
"Um, sure!" He stretched out his arm to the "damsel-in-distress" as she graciously took it. And as they walked, all mourning was forgotten. Even if they had not noticed themselves, they were wooing each other.
It took Benvolio and his companion a while before they were out. [Benvolio was so caught up in trying to impress the girl he got them lost a couple of times.] Finally, he looked up into the sky, and figured, "It will soon be dark. I must go, for I have not told where I have been!"
"Neither did I! I, too, must leave."
They were about to part when Benvolio remembered something, barely. "Wait! What is your name? I am Benvolio!"
At this, the girl spun around in a crack of a whip. "What? I am Rosaline! And you..." Her voice began to trail off.
"Rosaline? You are the one that Romeo used to love. But when you told him you shall never marry, he..Hold on! Back there, you said your love! You loved Romeo did you not!? But how can this be? You said-"
"I was only being strange! Oh my goodness! He believed me? Oh what a stupid me!" At this she flung herself to the ground.
"Then.."
"But wait! Are you not who you say you were? Benvolio? You are his cousin!"
Benvolio was trying to make sense of everything she had said. Love? "Y-Yes," he stammered," Yes, I am."
"Oh, then it shall happen all over again! Please! Please leave me!"
"Why would I do such a thing?"
"I was the one who caused Romeo to die! I don't want that to happen to another person I love!"
She blames herself for the death of Romeo, he thought.
"It is not your fault. The stars, the sky, fate. Those are the things that caused his death. Now stop blaming yourself..Did you say another love? And by that other love, you mean.."
This time, Rosaline stood up and stuck out her chin, like any other stubborn girl. "You give yourself too much credit." Although her words had no hint of it, her eyes danced with amusement.
"Oh really?" Time for a little joke.he held her in his arms really close. With his hand he held her chin to make her look into his eyes.
"St-stop this!" she was scared and nervous.
Benvolio let her go, laughing. "And you are too predictable." Offended, Rosaline just turned around and strode away.
Oh well, the boy thought, It was fun while it lasted. Who knows. I might see her again tomorrow.....
After Romeo and Juliet died, no one was the same. Just a week after the funeral, Lady Capulet died, as the same as Lady Montague, of grief. Not a pity, really. Lord Capulet married again a month later to this other teen by the name of Saria. Needless to say, it didn't last long. Lord Montague, however, stayed faithful to his deceased wife and never married. The nurse began to flirt with Friar Lawrence, but Friar Lawrence returned it with an airy word. But still, temptation drew the nurse to continue. Even though the two households held a peaceful alliance, the citizens of Verona still gave them a wide berth, just in case. And in time, the Prince became King of Verona, and a wise one at that. Benvolio, now Benvolio was a different story, and that is the story that shall be told.
Benvolio
It was the end of the two lovers' funerals as the red, puffy-eyed Benvolio stumbled onto the streets. "Why!? Why?! You stupid fellow, Romeo!" He whispered to the sky. He lowered his face to stare at the ground so none could see that he was crying. Yet, if you looked carefully, you could've seen each drop of teardrop every single time the one before it splashed onto the cold stone floor. Funny, for it was the middle of summer. But does it matter? Romeo was a kinsman to poor Benvolio. Not only that, but Romeo was also his friend. Not a wise one, but still his friend. And now he's gone, among Juliet and Mercutio. Poor boy, now he has no one to play with. He clenched his hands to stop it from trembling.
Alas, people were leaving the courtyard, and now they were heading back to the town square where he stood. He panicked; wouldn't people be disgusted if they found him crying like a two-year old boy? So now what? He did the only thing that came to his mind: he ran into the deserted part of the city. The three boys, Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio, always came here when they were younger. At least he still knew this part of the city.
He continued winding himself through the lost streets for awhile, thinking, Will I always be like this? Lonely? That was all he could think of write now, for then he heard a noise. It sounded like a muffled cry? Curious, Benvolio turned around a corner, and gasped at what he saw. It was a girl, young woman, actually, around his age. She sat on the ground as every breeze streamed through her coal black hair and dress. Her dress was the same color as her hair. Awkward, Benvolio thought, no one would wear a dress like that color, unless....
He cautiously strode toward, and whispered in a voice only this girl would be able to hear, "Madam, what causes you to cry so?"
The girl, now alas paying attention to her surroundings, looked up. In front of her stood a boy. He dressed as many of the mourners today in Verona: a black white tunic tucked into brown breeches. Over his tunic was a white shirt. Very drab.....but still. She turned pink in the cheeks and stared hard at her trembling hands set on her lap. Yet, she still did not smile. In a hushed voice she said, "My love....is gone."
Benvolio was not surprised. Exactly as I thought; no one would cry so much unless they know them. They'd have to know them a lot. She was in love with Romeo, but who is she? Should I ask?
"Hm?" The secret admire of his friend had said something.
"I said, 'Why are you crying?' I've been crying enough to know when
someone else is crying."
Benvolio turned quiet. The girl looked into his face as she talked. When she did, he felt warm inside. What was this feeling? Finally, he had the courage to say," I lost someone, too. Not a love, but a friend, family."
"Oh."
There was a brief silence. The wind picked up between them and collided into the two young adults. Because her hair was long, the wind blew it into the girl's face. She used her gentle fingertips to comb her hair and bring it behind her ear. Very gracefully, she stood and said, "If you are talking about what I think you are talking about, then you must be talking about Romeo!"
Benvolio was taken by surprise. So far, all he was doing was staring at her hand. "Now he was paying attention at the name of his cousin. "How did you know?"
She shrugged. "I just know. But excuse me, sir. Would you be so kind as to show me out of this place? I, uh, got myself lost." She looked down to hide a blush.
"Um, sure!" He stretched out his arm to the "damsel-in-distress" as she graciously took it. And as they walked, all mourning was forgotten. Even if they had not noticed themselves, they were wooing each other.
It took Benvolio and his companion a while before they were out. [Benvolio was so caught up in trying to impress the girl he got them lost a couple of times.] Finally, he looked up into the sky, and figured, "It will soon be dark. I must go, for I have not told where I have been!"
"Neither did I! I, too, must leave."
They were about to part when Benvolio remembered something, barely. "Wait! What is your name? I am Benvolio!"
At this, the girl spun around in a crack of a whip. "What? I am Rosaline! And you..." Her voice began to trail off.
"Rosaline? You are the one that Romeo used to love. But when you told him you shall never marry, he..Hold on! Back there, you said your love! You loved Romeo did you not!? But how can this be? You said-"
"I was only being strange! Oh my goodness! He believed me? Oh what a stupid me!" At this she flung herself to the ground.
"Then.."
"But wait! Are you not who you say you were? Benvolio? You are his cousin!"
Benvolio was trying to make sense of everything she had said. Love? "Y-Yes," he stammered," Yes, I am."
"Oh, then it shall happen all over again! Please! Please leave me!"
"Why would I do such a thing?"
"I was the one who caused Romeo to die! I don't want that to happen to another person I love!"
She blames herself for the death of Romeo, he thought.
"It is not your fault. The stars, the sky, fate. Those are the things that caused his death. Now stop blaming yourself..Did you say another love? And by that other love, you mean.."
This time, Rosaline stood up and stuck out her chin, like any other stubborn girl. "You give yourself too much credit." Although her words had no hint of it, her eyes danced with amusement.
"Oh really?" Time for a little joke.he held her in his arms really close. With his hand he held her chin to make her look into his eyes.
"St-stop this!" she was scared and nervous.
Benvolio let her go, laughing. "And you are too predictable." Offended, Rosaline just turned around and strode away.
Oh well, the boy thought, It was fun while it lasted. Who knows. I might see her again tomorrow.....