Rome and Julie
Prologue
Reading Romeo and Juliet is like watching a television show, where you’re omniscient. You pretty much know everything that’s going to happen, while the characters don’t. You can yell and scream, saying, ‘No! She really likes you!’, but no matter what, your protests are going to have no effect on the outcome. Like Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, so he kills himself? Then Juliet wakes up, finds Romeo dead, and kills herself?
As I finished that god awful story, I felt angry inside. Sure, the story of the star crossed lovers is one everyone knows and finds romantic and true, but I think it’s stupid. Shakespeare should have been a little more realistic when it came to dying. I would never kill myself over a guy.
I closed the book, set it on my bedside table, and looked up at the ceiling. What was Shakespeare thinking when he wrote Romeo and Juliet? Even The Taming of the Shrew? I wouldn’t let some guy tame me. That’s horrible.
“Julie, honey? You’re lesson starts in ten minutes.” My aunt’s soft voice was kind as she knocked faintly on my door.
“Okay. Thanks Aunt Maggie.” I took a deep breath, and let it out with a sigh. What could I do about Shakespeare? Nothing. He’s long been dead and gone. What was I left with? That unfinished, horrible ending.
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes. I’d been up all night rereading that stupid play. Trying to understand Shakespeare’s meaning, to no avail. There was no understanding why he would end it like that, but hey, it was his story, so he had every right to finish it the way he wanted.
I wondered what it was like to be Juliet, and in love with Romeo. Especially at the age thirteen. How would it feel to have forbidden love, and go against your parents wishes? I wouldn’t know, since I went with my guardian’s wishes all the time. It wasn’t that I did it in spite, but that they deserved it.
My aunt and uncle had taken me in when my parents died in a car crash. Ha, cliché, yes, but sad, immensely. I was young—too young to cry—so Maggie and Robert were practically my real parents. They deserved my obedience and kindness.
I stood up, and gathered my books for school. Maggie home schooled me—could she be more of a saint?—and was a good teacher. Reading Romeo and Juliet was not part of her lesson, but something about that story had me rereading it. As if the next time I read it, the ending would be different and satisfy me. Which I knew was impossible. But hey, I bet the Capulets though Juliet marrying Romeo was impossible. And that happened despite everyone’s protests.
“Jules… honey? You’re late.” Maggie opened the door, looking so nice and clean that I couldn’t help but give her a smile. I’d lost myself in Romeo and Juliet thoughts again.
“Sorry. I’m just getting my things together.” Maggie gave me an all knowing look, but backed out of my room nevertheless. I frowned, knowing that my thoughts would have to be diverted to schoolwork, but later, when I sat in bed, they’d stray, and once again, I’d pick up that tattered, unrealistic, addicting book.
As I finished that god awful story, I felt angry inside. Sure, the story of the star crossed lovers is one everyone knows and finds romantic and true, but I think it’s stupid. Shakespeare should have been a little more realistic when it came to dying. I would never kill myself over a guy.
I closed the book, set it on my bedside table, and looked up at the ceiling. What was Shakespeare thinking when he wrote Romeo and Juliet? Even The Taming of the Shrew? I wouldn’t let some guy tame me. That’s horrible.
“Julie, honey? You’re lesson starts in ten minutes.” My aunt’s soft voice was kind as she knocked faintly on my door.
“Okay. Thanks Aunt Maggie.” I took a deep breath, and let it out with a sigh. What could I do about Shakespeare? Nothing. He’s long been dead and gone. What was I left with? That unfinished, horrible ending.
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes. I’d been up all night rereading that stupid play. Trying to understand Shakespeare’s meaning, to no avail. There was no understanding why he would end it like that, but hey, it was his story, so he had every right to finish it the way he wanted.
I wondered what it was like to be Juliet, and in love with Romeo. Especially at the age thirteen. How would it feel to have forbidden love, and go against your parents wishes? I wouldn’t know, since I went with my guardian’s wishes all the time. It wasn’t that I did it in spite, but that they deserved it.
My aunt and uncle had taken me in when my parents died in a car crash. Ha, cliché, yes, but sad, immensely. I was young—too young to cry—so Maggie and Robert were practically my real parents. They deserved my obedience and kindness.
I stood up, and gathered my books for school. Maggie home schooled me—could she be more of a saint?—and was a good teacher. Reading Romeo and Juliet was not part of her lesson, but something about that story had me rereading it. As if the next time I read it, the ending would be different and satisfy me. Which I knew was impossible. But hey, I bet the Capulets though Juliet marrying Romeo was impossible. And that happened despite everyone’s protests.
“Jules… honey? You’re late.” Maggie opened the door, looking so nice and clean that I couldn’t help but give her a smile. I’d lost myself in Romeo and Juliet thoughts again.
“Sorry. I’m just getting my things together.” Maggie gave me an all knowing look, but backed out of my room nevertheless. I frowned, knowing that my thoughts would have to be diverted to schoolwork, but later, when I sat in bed, they’d stray, and once again, I’d pick up that tattered, unrealistic, addicting book.