He was idealistic. He had a normal life. He had dreams. Where did it all go? Ah yes. Mercutio did have a friend who shared his idealistic views. In fact, she was the one who inspired Mercutio to dream big. The young boy had long forgotten the name of his long since dead friend.
His friend was a girl. A woman, and yet he was not. Mercutio never thought of it as anything wrong. In fact, while he did harbour feelings for her, he was fine with just staying friends with her.
Mercutio went to the same spot he always did when they meet, by the edge of the river at dusk. As he sat down on the soft grass beside her, he listened intently to the sounds of the river running and the evening birds chirping. His mind is a blur from all the memories he tried to erase, but the visuals were permanently etched into his head.
She was the first to break the silence. She spoke of what she always did; dreams, goals, things that would never happen. Mercutio always laughed with her, agreed with her, wished for the same things to happen. For he too believed that impossible things could be possible.
When night fell, Mercutio secretly walked her back home, trying to stay out of sights and making sure his friend wasn’t attacked by anyone. At night, it wasn’t safe for a woman to walk home alone. Houses were on each side of the wide stony street and the only colours shone were the yellow streetlights and the blueish darkness. All lights in each house was dimmed which brought out the light of the stars above and the only sounds heard could be their voices and their footsteps. As they spoke, neither of them had any idea that someone from her family was silently watching.
Just as they neared the street of her home, he jumped out from nowhere, a glare in his eyes and a smirk on his lips clearly showed his intentions.
“Elder Sister, you disgraceful witch. Sold your body to a man before you could marry.” He said to her.
“One shall not speak to their elders this way.” She spoke back, her fists slightly clenched in fear. “How are you so sure I sold my body?”
“Women need men for everything. You must have done something for him to be standing side by side with you.” Her younger brother stepped forward slowly.
“I feel nothing for him, only feelings of friendship.” She stepped back slowly in fear of confrontation.
“She speaks the truth. I only see her as a dear friend.” Mercutio said.
“Lies. That is what you speak of, you foulmouthed witch.” Her younger brother said, raising his voice. “You disgraced our family! I am ashamed to be your brother!”
“Young boy, you do not understand what you don’t see. You don’t see the possibility that I do not love her.” Mercutio lied. “It’s a relationship of friendship, no more no less.”
“Speak of the truth! Or else mother and father will hear of this!” Her younger brother drew a knife from his back pocket.
“Younger brother, there is no need to draw your sword. I’ll accept punishment for lies that are not true, just do not take my life, not just yet.” She covered her mouth, tears dabbing her eyes in fear of death.
“Liar. I will not be in the same family as a whore like you.” He ran up to his older sister and jabbed his knife straight into her belly. Her clothes now dabbed with the colour red, spreading on the silk like a disease as tears sprang from her eyes.
“This was…pointless…all this for just…being friends with…a man…how…laughable…” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her limp body fell to the ground with a thud. Mercutio stared at her dead body. His mind blank with nothing but shock…and a new emotion that crept upon him. Rage.
Blood covered the streets of his city. His rage-indulged screams filled the air as he plunged the knife into her younger brother’s throat. Before long, the brother was a bloody mess, and he fled to Verona.