Sleep Tight, Hamlet
Alas, the day has come. I have clandestinely been scheming against the great King Hamlet ever since I laid eyes on his precious wife. Her beauty motivated me to commit a mortal sin, one of which I am not ashamed of. King Hamlet was everything I have ever wanted to be. The very sight of him made feelings of animosity erupt inside of my soul. Some may call it jealousy; however, a person cannot be jealous of a dead man. He had the throne, the wife, and a son who idolized him. I could not stand to sit back and let the perfection go on. I strenuously thought for many days of a way to rise above King Hamlet, when finally the dark idea struck me. Murder was the only answer.
On top of perfection, Hamlet was a strong man. For this reason, I would have to strike at a time of vulnerability. After many hours of spying and research I found the place he would be most vulnerable. King Hamlet spent hours upon hours in the castle garden and would often rest on the plush, golden, settee beneath the grape vines, enveloped by the sweet smell of peach colored roses. After seeing him continuously return to this position day after day, I made up my mind. I would kill Hamlet in his peaceful slumber.
However, the murder would only go unnoticed if I committed the act clean and quick. Stabbing him would be too messy because the stab would spill deep, red blood and stain the garden. Also, strangling Hamlet would leave a bruised, purple ring around the King’s neck. Therefore, my best option would be a sweet and simple poison. The garden would serve as a perfect spot because people would not suspect me to be the murderer since the garden is crawling with venomous snakes. With the nearest apothecary being two towns away, the trip to get the poison would take me a whole day. The road to the apothecary made me feel as though I was walking to my success. I could taste sweet victory as I finally approached the dwelling quarters of Earth’s most powerful liquid. At last, revenge was at my fingertips.
One dark and gloomy afternoon, I covertly followed my victim out to his favorite resting place. My hand containing the poison vile shook uncontrollably, as I came closer and closer to committing the murder. I waited, for what seemed like hours, behind a shrub in the damp, heavy, air for Hamlet to fall asleep. I tossed a pebble at his head to make sure he was in a deep slumber. When Hamlet did not budge, I made my way over to his helpless body. As I listened to his last, peaceful, breaths, a wave of guilt washed over me. The wave quickly faded as I remembered why I was hovering over the sleeping man’s body. In a burst of courage, I poured the contents of the vile carefully into King Hamlet’s ear canal. The eerie stillness of his body was suddenly disturbed by a spasmodic spasm as the potion poisoned his brain. I stood, proud, over the corpse of my newly deceased relative. Merely three minutes passed before I was able to find a snake and force the snake’s toxic teeth into Hamlet’s flesh, in order to cover up the suspicion of a human murderer. As I watched the bright, red, blood trickle down Hamlet’s skin I felt a burst of power. My reign had finally begun.
Next on the agenda was to find Gertrude and marry her, a simple task compared to the murder of her husband. Though the throne and the wife is what I have always wanted, I feel as though I have done something wrong; call it guilt, if you will. However, I must suppress these feelings and appear as a strong and powerful leader to the new Denmark. No matter the intensity of the internal battle, I must preserve my manhood and stand proud of my actions. After all, I have always wanted the throne, no matter how I got a hold of the mighty position. Though my guilt occasionally burdens me, I know I made the right decision in murdering Hamlet. I am fully satisfied with the outcome of my devious plan; my brother is dead, and I am now the powerful and mighty. Finally, my name will echo through the streets and be held in high regards by the people of Denmark.