The Innocent Red Rose

Dear Journal



I HAVE DONE THE DEED. I killed our worthy King of Scotland! With the daggers of the chamberlains, I stabbed them deep into Duncan’s chest. Streams of fresh blood flowed like rivers from his body to the ground. Oh! Those bloody daggers, for I, will never dare hold them in my hands again. Last night was such a horrible sight, and I can not bear to think of it. It was dark, unruly and chaotic. The wind blown fiercely, the owl howled during the whole night, and the smell of blood filled the air. My hands were red like the fruit cherry, and red enough to stain the greatest ocean in the world. I almost woke the chamberlains during my villainous deed, and I was struck by the frightened cries of prayers in their sleep. I listened to them cry “God bless us!” and my words were found stuck in my throat not able to even reply “Amen!” I then heard a voice that said “sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep.” I am doomed forever to sleeplessness, and the reward of the innocent! Before I even waken this morning, the porter opened the gates to admit doom, Macduff and Lennox arrived to wake the King. I could not believe I had the wit to guide them to Duncan’s chamber, and when they realized his death, it felt like many needles were piercing my body as I was trying to hide my guilt. I think I am starting to take on the character of my wife, who is good at being the innocent red rose (picture on the right), and at the same time the serpent lurking underneath. Now we have to depart to discuss the death, but I rather be lost in my thoughts than realize what I have done.

Till Next time

Macbeth