Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

the mirror and see myself.
The scene concludes, we leave stage, and I hear my brothers throw out
whistles in the audience as people clap.
“You were great,” Clarke says.
But I can’t look at him. I swallow hard, something making my heart feel
like it’s getting too big for my chest.
I enter the stage again for the party, for the scene with the nurse, for my
battle with Tybalt… My death.
I scream, tears streaming down my face as I fall to the ground, and
Mercutio realizes that this wasn’t worth it. He’d tried to protect his friend’s
life, but he failed to protect his happiness. He made it worse. Just a domino in
the tragedy who failed to see how short our time was.
How it wasn’t going to end unless someone changed the game.
And how, for the first time, I realize that the glaring plot hole in this story
was never a plot hole at all. Whether Juliet left her parents’ home under her
own two feet or in a casket, she still had the same endgame, so why fake her
death at all? She just should’ve left when her father gave her the option.
But she didn’t. Because she would’ve rather her parents seen her dead
than a Montague. Because she loved them and didn’t want to disappoint
them.
And now, maybe, I finally understand Clay’s fear isn’t because she
doesn’t love me. It’s because she loves them, too.
I don’t want what happened to Alli to happen to her. I’d rather see her
from a distance than never again.