The Villain of The Story

This is a short story that I wrote for my English class regarding Lady Macbeth. I often found that people were harsh when analyzing her character, each entry is divided by the play's acts.

Act 1

Dear Journal,

Today I woke up just like always, in a sweaty mess from the nightmares that plague me through the night. This night terror was the same as the other night terror’s consisting of my Lord bravely going into battle, only to be frozen by his good heart and morals. I try telling him to slay our enemies like the dogs they are, but his ears are closed towards my demands and he is stricken down by the evil man’s sword. Ever since he left these dreams refuse to leave me, despite everything I and the local doctor have tried to do. I let out a deep sigh before getting out of bed and starting my regular routine which consisted of taking care of my children and tending to the castle and the meals. The day was rather boring and uneventful until a newly written letter from my husband came into my hands, it was written in such a rush that the last bits of ink didn’t have enough time to dry before it was sent off, leaving small smudges on the letter. I was always skeptical of the supernatural, it never seemed to bring better rewards into my possession but when I read that letter my viewpoint changed as quickly as an infant’s cloth-made diaper. He spewed words onto the paper about three witches he met while returning back from the war with Banquo, a good family friend who has stuck with us for years. During the encounter, they predicted that he would become the thane of Cawdor alongside him being the thane of Glamis, on top of this seemingly ridiculous they cried out that he would be the future king! Not long after that, he was proclaimed the new thane of Cawdor, it seems the witches hold some truth to their claims, and if that is the case my Lord has a chance of becoming the King and myself becoming the Queen.

However, despair overtakes me when I think of this news, I know my husband and as much as I adore him, I know him for the kind-hearted man he is. Will he let his morals get in the way of this once in a lifetime chance that God has given to us? I can only safely assume that in this event he will only make the wrong choices for our family, it’s time I took over for a bit. I knew I had to persuade him into letting go of all his morals so that he may seize the crown, and what does he have to fear as it looks like fate and witchcraft are on our sides. It was then that a servant rudely interrupted my sinful thoughts, it was only the good news that he brought me which spared him from my wrath. The news of the King joining my family in our home filled my ears with sounds of joy, I sent the servant off to take care of the messenger and smiled to myself. This great man is walking to his doom right this minute if fate was not in our favour explain this, my dear husband, we were just given the man who stands in the way of what our family deserves. I feel the murderous thoughts of one who is sick and insane enter me but at this moment I do not stop them, instead, I welcome them and call out for more, as I do need to compensate for my husband’s weakness. It was at this moment when my Lord walked in, I reassured him that he would be king, before giving him a glance into the dark corners of my devilish plans. It wasn’t too long before the king, his son, and some other nobles gifted us with their presence, I presented myself as the humble wife as always so not to be betrayed by my manners before I can commit my even more horrific actions. We talked and laughed, I even managed to keep the disguise up through dinner while dining with this hateful, stupid man but my husband did not follow suit.

 

 

I knew where to find him, he was sulking in the servant’s hallway, it was a long hallway that divided into many sub-hallways that lead off to places that would be unknown to an unfamiliar face. My suspicions were confirmed, my husband was weak in the face of glory, where was the man I was talking to earlier, the one who would kill the king at that minute. I spoke my thoughts to him, telling him what a coward he was, how could he be so morally hypocritical with himself and the ones he loves. If I made a promise to myself that I would kill my own infant, I would take it and smash its brains against the wall because a promise to myself is taken with extreme urgency. Here is where I share my full plan with him, we will attack the King at night, I will get his servants so drunk that any memory of the night’s events will take a place in the black abyss. Here my Lord can take the King’s life away and with a little persuasion, we can pin the blame on the two drunk servants. I am writing this before I must put my scholar-worthy plan into action, I know that I won’t have time after so I must write it now.

 

In Best Regards,

Lady Macbeth

 

 

Act 2

 

Dear Journal,

 

I am writing this entry while being taken across the motherland by horse and carriage, the previous night’s events were pure chaos but went off without any problems, these empty-headed fools suspect nothing. After I finished writing my previous entry, I prepared the wine, adding a sleeping potion that I managed to swipe off my children’s nanny who suffers from an affliction that prevents her from falling asleep. I dismissed my servants early, stating that the sudden royal guest was tiring on everybody and they deserved a goodnight’s sleep, they agreed without any protest and scampered off. I smirked and continued my journey towards the King’s chambers, I turned the corner and am met with the two unsuspecting arms, I greeted them adding a flirty undertone to my sentences before presenting the wine. I pre-poured the glasses before I met the two guards, making sure my cup only had wine that was not laced with the sleeping potion, so the guards can hold no suspicion against me. We had a great time, laughing and joking from all the wine, at least I was giving them a pleasant memory before their demise, their eyes soon became heavy with sleep and it wasn’t long for them to start sleeping like a babe. I let out a quiet sound of joy before I delicately grabbed the small bell that accompanied the cups of wine on the tray and rung it loud so it’s sounds could alert my husband to start of our new life, our murderous plans. I let out a sigh before wiping up the puddles of wasted wine on the stone floors before neatly placing the cups on the tray and walking right back to the kitchen. I quickly clean the cups, place them back along with the wine, and plant the sleeping potion in the servant’s powder room, so all it looks like is that our nanny left the potion behind after she was finished washing up. I walked back to our room and paced while I waited.

The wine I drank made me feel much bolder, I felt like I could take on the whole King’s army, yet the shriek of an owl made me jump out of my skin. Somehow, I knew deep in my bones that Macbeth must be killing the king right this minute with no objection from any servants. I heard Macbeth returning from his murderous deed, yet the awful liquid possessed my mind and made me paranoid fearing that the servants had woken up and caught my Lord in the act of the most treacherous crime a man could commit towards God and his land. I would have killed the king myself when I saw him sleeping but his features resembled my dear father’s feature too much and couldn’t do it. Now I seem to regret such a cowardly choice until I saw my Lord enter our chambers clutching two daggers that dripped with the deceased King’s blood. I ran to him, and he started sputtering out the hallucinations that he truly believed were true, I could see that his actions were starting to bring him to the edge of insanity and I knew that unless we wanted to soon see our friend the executioner we needed to erase all evidence of our sins. I tried to put reasoning into my husband’s mind but his cowardness nature had a steel hold on his thoughts. I grabbed the daggers and quickly ran back to the guards, I painted the king’s blood on their face, and carefully laid the blades besides the sleeping men’s bodies. The peace I felt vanished quickly when I heard a knock on one of the doors echo through the halls, filling me with dread.

I ran back to my husband as fast as my feet could take me, like the revengeful spirit of the King himself was pursuing me to pull me down to the Devil himself. I burst through the chamber doors and quickly gathered my thoughts, it looked like my Lord had gotten some sense into him which was a relief, without it we would be caught. I told him that we needed to wash off the red that stains our hands and put on our nightwear. We proceeded to do so, scrubbing away the blood until our hands became raw and sore, then throwing on our nightwear, before retiring to our bed. We listened to the knocking that kept taunting us, until it stopped, the home was now only filled with the creaks and groans of its burdens and our rapid breathing, my husband got up to greet our guest as any normal host would do. I stayed in my bed contemplating what we have just done and if it was the right choice before I was alerted by a loud bell that stalked the halls with its frightening news. I ran to the source of the noise, already knowing that it would be the rotting King’s chambers. I faked surprise and fear at the start of the conversation until the fear started to become real, we actually did this, for what a position that would only bring more trials to our family, it wasn’t till I saw what we have done with sober eyes that I fainted. I wonder now if this makes me weak or if it makes me human but either way I do not wish to come into contact with this knowledge. I woke up in my bed with the sun’s blinding light caressing my face, yet the noise in our house was like a city’s market. I got up and looked out of my chambers, servants were running about some with boxes, some with just items, others with nothing. I soon was dressed and informed of what was happening, my Lord was soon to be crowned King and our family needed to depart as soon as possible. Now I’m on my way to become the Queen of Scotland, I asked about the King’s sons but apparently, they are the prime suspects for the murder as only guilty men run. I guess we are running too, my mind is still weary by last night’s events and need to rest for a while.

In Best Regards,

Lady Macbeth

 

 

Act 3

Dear Journal,

The months seem to drag along with disappointment, at first, I was very excited about becoming the Queen of Scotland, but it was soon short-lived when I realized it was just a fancy title that a common noblewoman held. I keep finding myself yearning for more adventure, the night we killed the king was one of the funniest nights I ever had. I realize that this is a great sin that no honourable women should feel but I can’t help it, the whispers the Devil speaks into my ears are so enticing and desirable. Woe to me! Am I any better than the naked women who ate of the forbidden fruit in the garden? I am an evil woman, I have committed far greater sins than any prostitute in the village’s whorehouse, however just like those women I enjoy the sins I commit. Maybe this is why I let my husband commit this sin once more, it brought back a piece of myself that had been missing ever since that fateful nights. My day started just like any other day, I got dressed in my royal chambers, attended the morning meal, then joined my husband to discuss our big celebration that we will be throwing. It was then I started to become more cheerful, as Banquo, my husband’s enemy, also joined us, after all, we couldn’t forget about our most important guest. After we both heard from Banquo’s own mouth that he would attend our feast I was dismissed. The need to smile was extremely overpowering and I couldn’t help but smile, if Banquo came to our feast his useless son would join us too, then bye-bye Banquo’s prophecy.

The rest of the day was made up of me running around making sure everything was in order, from the food to the children and guests. I didn’t see my husband for most of the day until I saw him at the southern balcony consorting with two known murders, disappointment and happiness filled me, I was happy that my husband finally got some intelligence into his mind and knew that it would be extremely risky for us to murder again while attending to our noble guests but the need to murder again was so strong and overpowering. I ran back into the castle and tried to keep my mind off of what I just witnessed, it wasn’t hard as most of my servants were empty-headed peasants and they needed close supervision so that everything would meet royal standards. It was late in the afternoon and the preparations for the feast were in their final stages, I just had to make sure of one thing however before I could start to feel calmer. I pulled a servant aside and asked them if Banquo had left the court and I was met with an agreeable answer, he had but he would return at night for the feast. I smiled, the true reason for my pleasure was a secret to anyone who gazed upon me. I sent him off to fetch my Lord, suddenly like God himself was punishing me for my dealings with the Devil I was stricken with grief and anxiety. What we were doing was wrong, but we couldn’t go back now if only I had been the victim of death so I would not have to be tormented from the anxiety of a killer. It was then that my Lord joined me looking troubled, like a bird fleeing from danger my thoughts of grief fled me and the only thing the consumed my thoughts was the events that were about to go down.

 

 

I told him to pull it together and put on a smile for our guests, he obeyed my orders, but I was given an assignment too, to make sure Banquo feels important so he suspects nothing of our plans. If only it ended there but his weak heart started to pour itself out to me, the one thing that plagues him are the beating hearts of his enemies. To silence his senseless ramblings, I reassured him of the one weakness all mankind has, our mortality, it worked like a charm. Before going off away from the feast I tried to inquire where he planned to go but he refused to tell me, stating that I would appreciate it better later, I was tired of arguing and entered into the hall that held the feast. I apologized for my absence and reassured the nobles that my husband would soon join us. I looked around the room but could not see Banquo meaning my purpose for tonight was gone and the thoughts of guilt come running back to me, like a mutt to his handler. I indulged myself with the sweet wine, hoping that its poison could cloud my distressing thoughts for just the night. Laughter and joy filled the room, for a moment I forgot about the process that gained me this chair I sat in, it truly was a glorious moment. I was called out of the room and I excused myself, it was time to officially start the feast, my balance was slowly leaving my body to make room for more wine that I will undoubtedly indulge in. My Lord steadied me before giving me a disapproving look, anger flared up in me but I suppressed my rage so I may not bring shame upon myself in front of our guests. Our official arrival was announced and when I entered the room again the nobles were lined on either side of the entryway, after a few announcements we were dismissed to our proper chairs, I stayed glued to my chair while my eyes followed my husband as he makes his way around the table.

Then the assassin I saw earlier appeared at the room's entrance and my husband soon joined him, the more time he spent with this man the more the nobles became uneasy. Finally I had enough of his secret conversation and called him back to the table where his important guests remained, he thanked me for my reminder and started to prepare a toast when out of nowhere he started acting like a madman, raving on about how the table was full, even accusing the nobles of playing a cruel joke on him. I had to act fast before the nobles begin to think they appointed an insane man for King, an idea popped up in my head and I quickly explained how my Lord suffers from fits and that he would be better soon but if we continued to give our attention to him his fits would become more violent and lengthier. Yet they did not believe me, and my empty-minded husband did nothing to help his case, I tried to desperately get him to stop his ramblings once again, this time through embarrassment but he insisted that there was another presence with us. It wasn’t until I reminded him that we had guests who needed tending to that he calmed down and acknowledged their presence, he finished his toast and we drank our wine, I could already feel it’s buzz slowly wash away my stresses from my husband’s outburst. This state of calm was short-lived, and he once again began to yell at the air, I was starting to become frustrated of repeating this explanation to excuse my husband’s behaviour, yet I got a sudden thought that filled me with dread, everything he speaks of could bring about suspicion on us for the murder of King Duncan. Out of frustration and fear I yelled out a short goodbye and ordered everyone out of the room, the anger I felt for my husband was murderous, it’s like he wants us to be caught! However, after talking to him, I realized that the absence of sleep had finally possessed his mind, it was so bad that he couldn’t tell if it was day or night. I brought him to bed, his snores fill my ears as I write this passage, I can only hope that this accident does not repeat itself in the future.

  In Best Regards,

Lady Macbeth     

 

Act 4

Dear Journal,

 

The months have been increasingly unbearable, today I have buried my last child who was taken by the plague that is ravishing our land. My children…my beautiful children how I will miss the sound of your laughter that rang through the hall. Their death was all my fault, this is God’s punishment to me, all my children died a slow and painful death and there was nothing I could do. I now feel no excitement when I think about our murderous deeds, I only feel anxiety and grief, my husband does not show the same remorse, maybe if he did God would listen to our prayers and save our children. Sleep has become so unbearable that I see shadows of the dead dance throughout my room, the only way I can be rid of them is to hold a source of light near me. The candle near me at night only provides a little bit of help, no amount of light can protect me from the terrors that plague my dreams and I often find myself in places in my room where I did not go to sleep. My servants seem even more wary of me and when I ask about the reason for their weariness they ramble on about nonsense before making up an excuse so they can leave quickly. Though I will not complain, my thirst for murder pushed my husband to the edge, he is consumed with the thought of war and has become more irritable. Though today I have received the saddest news that one can receive, Lady Macduff along with all her children have been slaughtered brutally by the same murders who have killed our friend Banquo. My husband has lost all the kindness in him that I once hated so much but now wish for more than anything. Now I have all their blood on my hands too, no amount of praying will keep me from the gates of Hell now. I have created a monster out of my own greed and no amount of reasoning will turn it back into a human. I must rest for grief has weighed down my heart, and I will once again wish that I do not wake up to the new day of tomorrow.

In Best Regards,

Lady Macbeth

 

 

 

Act 5

Dear Journal,

 

This will be my last entry in this lifetime, the blood on my hands is too thick to ignore. I have been plagued by even more horrific night terrors, every time I rest my eyes, I see all the blood I have spilled on my hands and no matter how hard I try to wash it off it sticks to my hands. Oh my! The sound of death keeps calling to me, and each day it sounds more and more enticing. I no longer wonder where I will travel to when I die, I only wish for this guilt to leave me. If taking my own life is a great sin what’s one more to add to my ever-growing pile. My own husband has turned into a madman from all his guilt, he doesn’t even go to sleep instead he gives into his crazy thoughts and feelings, I now have nothing to live for. Maybe if God looks kindly upon me, forgiving me of all I have done, I can see me, beloved children, again, and ask for Lady Macduff and her offspring’s forgiveness. These thoughts I’m told are from a sick mind according to the royal doctor, yet he holds no cure for it, the only way I can be cured is to decide to heal myself. What a ridiculous idea, I have tried to heal for so long, but a punishment is not meant to be healed, it’s there for a reason. Beside me is a dagger, the very same dagger that my own husband used on the King, once I am done writing this entry, I will use it on myself to get rid of a horrible evil in the world. If anyone should find these secret writings, tell my husband I’m sorry for making him into a monster and tell everyone alive who I have made weep out of sorrow that I hope my death may take away some sorrow they feel. I am now going to join my children; may God have mercy on me!

Farewell,

Lady Macbeth

Author's Note

This was not meant to be extremely accurate, it is just from my imagination why I felt like Lady Macbeth did the things she did. If you have any suggestions or criticisms I would love to hear them!

Reviews

[Jason Gartin]

I enjoyed reading your writing. Your vivid imagination is well played out in your writing skills. I think this piece did what it was supposed to do, and that is to keep the reader interested and reading to the end.