Tuesday, July 6, 1565
Night
Dear Diary,
Friar Laurence has found a way to prevent this second marriage! I must drink this vial of distilled liquor the night before the wedding. The liquid will make me appear dead. I will look cold and pale. Every part of me will appear stiff. I will have no pulse even though my heart is still beating (but only faintly). This will only last 42 hours. My family will mourn for me, thinking I'm dead, and shut me up in the Capulet tomb. In the meantime, Friar Laurence will write to Romeo, telling him of this. When I awake, Romeo will be there by my side, and Friar Laurence will sneak us out of Verona and into Mantua. Oh, how I wanted that vial. Friar Laurence was surprised that I displayed no womanish fear or inconstant toy.
At home, I had to pretend to be sorry for my sins and ask my father for forgiveness. Oh, how that hurt my pride and how wrong it felt to pretend to ask for forgiveness when inside me, I want none, but my father's apology for hurting me and scaring me so. My father was so happy (such foolish pride!) that he rearranged the wedding for Wednesday instead of Thursday. I had to pretend that I was overcome with joy, but inside, I was overcome with sadness with this new misfortune. My Nurse helped me pick out such ornaments to furnish me tomorrow. As we spent time quarreling over clothes. I felt sad since this could be the last day I'll see her forever or for many years. Oh, how I wish, I didn't yell at her in secret and wish to apologize and say good-bye. Since she is probably going to be the first person to see me in a death-like state, I wanted to tell her of Friar Laurence's plan so Nurse won't feel so heartbroken in the morning. She is the one I'm going to miss the most.
Now it is night, and I can still hear the servants getting ready for tomorrow. Oh, how they waste their time for there won't be a marriage tomorrow. As I hold this vial in my hand, I cannot help but feel afraid. What if this really does kill me, and Friar Laurence was lying? Worse, what if it doesn't work, and I shall be married tomorrow morning? No, no! I shall forbid it! This dagger will lie there by my bedside. If this liquid mixture shall not work, than for real, I will kill myself and damn my soul to Hell. I rather damn my soul to Hell than to suffer the sin of being married to two men. But, I still can't help but be afraid. What if I see Tybalt's bloody ghost screaming for Romeo, wanting further revenge? I'll shout at him to stay away from me. So much fear and what if's fill my head and surround my heart, begging me not to fake death. I will not listen! And take this potion and be joined with Romeo in the near future.
But, Diary, I must part with thee. I wish I can bring you, but I can't. We must have to part. No longer will I tell thee of my secrets and feelings. I can't send a note to Friar Laurence to bring thee to me when I a wake from death's sleep this late! Oh, Diary, I will miss thee. I will keep you safe in a small vault under my bed locked up tight. If fate ever be so kind, one day I'll come back for you and tell thee everything. For now, I will miss thee.
Goodnight with all my love,
Juliet