An assignment from my creative writing class... still needs some work.
Princes are often portrayed to be quite charming, brave, and overall wonderful. Their princesses just have to sit around, singing stupid songs, waiting for their knights to save them. Well, I would like to say that not all princes are like this, the one in my story in particular.
Maybe Denmark is defective when it comes to royalty. Juliet gets Romeo, who dies for her, but then again she offs herself so that is probably a bad example. Viola just has to cross dress for a while and the Duke practically throws himself at her after she reveals that she is indeed a woman. No hard feelings at all for the deception. Even Katherina, a complete shrew, gets a somewhat normal man to go for her. And all the fairy tales where every cookie cutter prince comes riding in to sweep these lazy women off their feet. No one shuns their girlfriends in Disney.
Whom am I left with? Hamlet. He was great at first, not a bad looking person, definitely intelligent. He is always talking to his father, which would not be a bad thing if his father were alive. Dysfunctional does not even begin to cover that family. Hamlet really has some mother issues as well. He spends an awful lot of time with her, a little obsessive I would think. Considering she married his uncle.
I was head over heels for that boy. My father and brother tried to get me to see clearly but love does silly things to women. I was sitting in my room one day and here comes Hamlet, his clothes in complete disarray; he would not even speak to me. He just kept nodding a bewildered look upon his face.
All the princesses get to be lovely and soft spoken. Technically I am not a princess but I should get better than the reputation I have been dealt. I am written as crazy. They do not even tell my side of the story. That Hamlet just goes off on this rant, telling me to go to a nunnery. That would upset anyone. To hear their once future husband telling you to give up on men! Just completely blow me off, because a ghost tells him to avenge his death. I got labeled crazy. How ridiculous! You would get a little mad.
Then he became hell bent to kill everyone in sight, including my father. He just stabs whoever is hiding behind the curtains, does not even bother to ask. It is his uncle who he wants to kill, but he is more of the kill first, question later type. This is the time I chose to take things into my own hands.
During their little play, to which I was not even asked to come, I decided to make an appearance anyway. I grabbed as many flowers out of Queen Gertrude’s herb garden as I could, including rue which is highly poisonous. I held some rue for myself, and then I was to pass out the flowers. However, not before I placed ground arsenic in the pollen of course, with just a hint of anthrax. Where did I get anthrax? That information isn’t necessary. I went to each person, claiming how each flower was a symbol. Explaining the symbol then I waited. Watching them breathe the flowers. I smiled, but then my smile faded as I realized Hamlet was not there. I watched one by one as the royal family, their guards, and my brother collapsed dead. Frustrated I went out to look for Hamlet. I decided to climb into a willow, so to get a better look at the grounds.
I was not aware that this willow was right above a brook, that was rather shallow. I caught site of Hamlet in the grave yard, I took a single step to far and the branch broke. Causing me to fall into the brook, killing me as I struck the rocks below.
After my death, Hamlet claimed to love my four thousand times that of a brother. I think he is slightly more attuned to the dead than the living. Which is fitting, he did not live much longer after me.
