Juliet's Fears

I'm consumed by these flooding fears; these fears that I should not believe, yet I so pessimistically acknowledge. What will become of me if the potion fails? A marriage to Paris? I'd forbid such a heartless decision with my life.

I doubt Friar Lawrence to this extent, yet here I am, entrusting my future to this man. Is he truly the saviour Romeo and I should believe in? A saint of peace and harmony? The deep liquid in this vial, could it be poison? Have I angered him with this reckless plead?

But even so, Romeo may not come. Oh, I shiver in the thought. I fear that when I open my eyes, I would look to an empty ceiling; ridden of hope, I'd lie in the burial of the deceased. Next to dear Tybalt, breathing in cold air, being unable to move, to cry, shout or scream. Will I be heard? My calls for salvation, my plead for hope? Would I slowly breathe out life, my heart and mind long dead before my body?

Enough! These sickening thoughts and assumptions do not make a difference. I will trust, believe and put my faith onto Romeo; he will come for me. All I need is courage.