Life of Lord From My Mind to Yours

The day has come. The day that all fathers both dread and dream of for their daughters. A man of great strength and poise has asked for my precious Juliet's hand in marriage. Ah Juliet, my only daughter and most important thing in my life. What did I do to deserve such a perfect daughter?

Paris is standing before me with his tall stature and confident grin. I tell him in the simplest way possible that Juliet will be given a choice. She may fall in love with you, or she may not. I will leave that up to her. Juliet is young, mind you. Please Paris, give her some time. But please, attend my party tonight. Juliet will be present. Take the time to get to know her, future husband. *wink*

'Tis the night of my party. Our first guests have arrived and it seems as though everyone is having a good time. The crowd is in high spirits as we laugh and enjoy each other's - Oh my stars! What have we here? Unhand him immediately, Tybalt!

I do not believe my eyes. I call Tybalt off of my guest and he begins to explain his dilemma. Tybalt, I tell him, this man may be a Montegue, but he has done no harm. This man is my guest and you shall treat him as one of us. If not, I am sure the prince would be more than happy to deal with the situation.

Rest his soul. God rest the soul of our very own. My lady has been moping about the house for hours. The nurse has been mourning since she got word. It is confirmed, Tybalt has passed.

Oh dreadful day! First my wife, then the nurse, and now my dearest Juliet. Mournful, doleful, sorrowful day. I can feel my daughter tremble through the walls. I can sense the sadness within her.

Oh, but not for long. Not for long I tell you. Today I bring good news to my Juliet, perhaps the best news of her life. She will be married by Thursday morn. For the last time I spoke with Juliet of this matter, she thought herself to be unworthy of such an honor. Unworthy? She is but the most worthy in all the land. I come with great news and cannot wait to share it with my daughter, the bride to be.

"Two souls but a single thought. Two hearts that beat as one."

I am overcome with anxiousness and excitement. I knock on Juliet's door. I can still hear her cries. "I bring good news", I call to her. As the door creaks open, standing before me are my lady and nurse. But where is my Juliet? I hear her cry. "There", says nurse. I lift the sheet that rests upon her beautiful face. I tell her I am here to raise her spirits. She lifts her head so gently. Juliet, my beloved daughter Juliet. Lady, have you shared the news? Does she know what a joyous week 'tis?

Has she no respect? Is she not grateful? I am enraged! Have I done anything but make her life a breeze? Precious Juliet? Beloved Juliet? Say goodbye to that title. Say goodbye to being a Capulet, too! You disgrace! You embarrassment! You mistake! Get out of my sight. Do not beg me, do not so much as look at me. For if you do not wed on Thursday, you are no longer mine. You have some nerve. UGH! The audacity! The disrespect! You scum of a daughter, you are but my biggest mistake.

"Anger is brittle fire that consumes and breaks whatever it engulfs"

The next morn, I woke and rose. 'Twas a seemingly normal start to a day. Don't get me wrong, I was still infuriated based on the events of the night before. For everyday I rise the same way. But this day turned out to be rather..unusual, if you will. There, right before me, was an apologetic grin and in this moment I swore I was losing my mind.

The sight of her made my blood boil. I returned to my previous state...Until the words that I thought I'd never hear came from her lips. "I will marry Paris". Under the blessing of the Friar, under the ceiling of a sacred church, she will be married by Thursday morn! My Juliet! My precious, sweet, perfect Juliet has returned! I cannot wait another day. Let the wedding be moved to-morrow.

D-dead? Gulp. Passed? W-with-without warning, just...gone? Oh heavens, rest easy my angel! What are we to do now? We must act quickly. Oh, what will Paris say? How will we tell him that this happy day, is now grievous. We shall turn this wedding to a funeral. Here comes Paris now.

Oh son, oh Paris. Her time has expired, she has left the earth. Come son, we shall prepare for the funeral.


Created with images by zoonabar - "Crown" • Olessya - "ring wedding wedding rings" • Activedia - "law justice court" • Pexels - "bloom blossom bouquet" • gholem - "fire wood fire heat" • MichaelGaida - "lost places lapsed old" • drippycat - "graveyard church crocus"

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