Hey! This is my first story, so please enjoy. Don't be too hard on me. Thankyou!

Juliet's Diary

(The alternate ending to an otherwise unhappy tragedy)

I can't believe I fell in love with such an IDIOT! I mean, how could Romeo kill himself after I told him my plan to 'kill' myself a million times?!? I mean, really? I remember sitting in this very room, with Romeo no less, as we talked about his exile and how we would run-off together. But I guess it was never meant to be, because look at me. Sorry, you can't, because I'm a ghost, doomed to walk this planet without the love of my husband, my true love.

That's right; I might have been only fourteen, but I loved him more than anyone else and we got married a few days after our meeting.

Honestly, it was like a dream come true for me, a beautiful dream, and our parents ruined it. I don't blame Romeo, sometimes he's clueless but, come on; it wasn't his fault we both died. Well, now that I think about, maybe it's a bit his fault, but not all the blame should be on him. If anything, it's myfault. IF the letters me and Friar sent to Romeo had reached him, Paris would be alive and Romeo and I would be far away. But then I remember what my father used to say; Regrets are for the weak. He would often say that and I suppose he was right. But see, the thing is, I am weak. I'm all alone and I hate it; every time I try to forget, it doesn't seem to want to go away.

To make things worse, a flower, a rose to be precise, appears at my family's house everyday since my death. Attached to it is a card that says, To: Juliet, Love: Romeo, Wait for me. How can I forget when someone sends me things in Romeo's name? I never see the person who delivers them, but they always make my parents cry. My nurse and my parents have many flowers, including the ones at the doorstep and now they have put them in my room. To be honest, it's quite nice because now my room smells of roses, I mean, even if I'm dead, I can still smell.

Truthfully, I've heard of ghosts from my mother. She has always told me that ghosts are spirits that are unsettled souls. But I am not unsettled, I'm just….

Never mind, this is not important. What is important, Diary, is that love doesn't work. I have found it a concept of pain and utter sorrow. Though I am dead, I see a picture of my beautiful, foolish Romeo on my dresser; my parents have put it there. As I stare at it now, I realize that my heart, if I still have one, is breaking. Romeo? Where are you? I wonder where you are. I wonder if you think of me or if you miss me. But my questions and hopes won't be answered by him, ever. He can not comfort me with his words and presence as he did less than a week ago. That week took Mercrutio, Tybalt, Paris, Romeo's Mother, Romeo and me.

Love is pain and passion, joy and sorrow, but love is a temporary feeling, like our lives, like Romeo.


Juliet Du-Maria Capulet.

Julie found teardrops on the page she had read and traced them with her fingertips. Then she ran her fingers across the name. Juliet Du-Maria Capulet. It was startlingly close to her name; Julie Marie Caput.

Julie wondered who this 'Juliet Du-Maria Capulet' was. She doubted it was Juliet Capulet of Romeo and Juliet. It was impossible. The tragedies that William Shakespeare had written was all made up, all pretend.

Not real.

Mom probably wrote this in high school, thought Julie; I'll go ask her now.

Carrying the leather bound book in her hand, she walked down the attic ladder and into her mother's room, where her mother, Janice, was looking through old photographs.

Good, she thought, maybe she'll answer my questions. Julie was almost certain that her mother had won some sort of award for this 'diary'. It had been so realistic like it was almost real and her mother had always been an excellent writer.


"Yes, Julie?" her mother looked up from the photos. Julie was a lot like her mother in looks; the both shared the same startlingly fire red hair and the deep blue eyes.

"I really like your story," Julie started, holding up the book, "It was so realistic, although I wished you hadn't stopped."

Her mother took the book and flipped through it.

"Honey, this isn't mine."

"It isn't?"

Janice shook her head, "I read this story when I was fourteen as well, sweetheart, and I loved every minute of it. Although, I did find it sad; like three days after meeting Romeo, they got married and a day later Romeo was exiled. Two days after that, when Juliet was to be remarried to Paris, Juliet took a fake death potion and both her and Romeo committed suicide."

"Uh, Mom?" Julie touched her mother's hand lightly. It had seemed her mother had gotten lost while she had been speaking so passionately of the tragedy, "The point?"

"Oh," her mother said, laughing lightly, "The point is that this isn't my story. That it was written by a real Juliet Du-Maria Capulet and that it holds many secrets. That was one of the reasons I named you Juliet." She added smiling.

"You named me Julie,"

Her mother laughed again, "I know, but I would have called you Juliet if the name hadn't already been taken by the most popular woman of all plays," Janice picked up the photos and slipped them into a small envelope, "It's getting late, and you still have school tomorrow. Good night."

Julie watched her mother walk out of her room, probably putting the photos somewhere safe. Julie retreated to her own bedroom and slipped under the covers; soon she slept. As she slept, she dreamed….

Julie blinked open her eyes and crawled out of her bed. It seemed bigger this day. She stood on her feet and looked into the mirror over her dresser. She looked the same as always but her nightgown was elaborately made. There was lace at the bottom and her dress was a light blue but made of satin. I didn't sleep in these clothes, thought Julie. She looked to the left and was amazed at what she saw.

Her eyes beheld a portrait was a girl identical to Julie, whose hair was tied up and her hair curled at the front. This girl wore a dress of bright red, like a princess, with gold bracelets on her wrists.

Julie glanced at the name under the portrait.

Juliet Capulet, only daughter of the Capulet's.

Amazing, she thought, a girl, this Juliet once lived, and once died.

Julie was startled by a tap on her window. She ran to it and opened the window, but all she saw was the darkness of the night.

"Hello?" she called out, "Is anybody there?"

There was a brief silence before she heard an answer. "Juliet?" She saw a figure in the black of night approach. It was a boy; he looked 14 or 15. He had black hair and his eyes were dark brown, like chocolate.

Julie didn't know who it was but suddenly, she felt like she was just a spectator.

"Romeo?" she called out, although the voice didn't seem to belong to her. Smiling, he reached his arms out; Julie mirrored the action.

She blinked.

Julie blinked again and was awake in her own bed. She rolled out and ran to her own mirror and noted, with relief, that her clothes were the regular light blue of her nightgown, although she wished somewhat for the beautiful gown she'd worn in her dream.

Dream, Julie knew it wasn't a dream, but what if…What if it wasn't? What if it wasn't a dream and was a flashback of a past self whom was Juliet Capulet? Naw, thought Julie, I've been reading a little too much science fiction.

She put on her usual uniform and ate her breakfast quietly. Her mother was either at work, or was sleeping. Julie left her house carrying her back pack; Juliet's dairy was inside her bag as well.

Julie's first class was art, then drama, then a lucky free period. Art was a breeze, but drama would be harder. After learning what she had about Juliet's life after her death, and after the dream she'd just had, Julie was scared. What was happened? All these odd coincidences were coming up and all because of Juliet's dairy.

As Julie took out her books, her teacher walked in and called the class to order.

"Good morning, class. As you know, tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and the fireworks will be at midnight in the Town Square. Although tomorrow is a day of love and recognition, I believe I should let you have a free day. No homework, am I right?" The class cheered in agreement, "Well, then bear with me and I'll think about it. Now, as you know, we're all studying the play Romeo and Juliet, but an interesting fact is that Romeo and Juliet died on Valentine's Day," Julie flinched and straightened up immediately at Juliet's name. She now listened very keenly to whatever Ms. Cara was now saying, "Now, Valentine's Day is a day of love and the death of Romeo and Juliet was a tragic death of love. So today, we'll be working on a scene in the play, Act Two, Scene Two, where Juliet and Romeo exchange words of great love for each other. So, who's who? Who would like to be Juliet and Romeo?" there was silence.

Nobody raised their hands but many moved around in their chairs.

"No one? Well then, Julie, please be Juliet and Romeo… well, who to be Romeo?"

There was a knock on the door and Julie glanced over to see a boy come stumbling in. This boy had dark brown, black hair and eyes like dark chocolate. His backpack was slipping off his shoulders and he panted like he was out of breath.

"Sorry, ma'am, I just got here. My names Romero Montage and I am the new student transferring in."

"I see, well, come in then," she gestured to an empty spot beside Catherine, whom sat at the back of the room, then to the front, "when you are ready, you can come up and help Julie play this part in Romeo and Juliet, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. It didn't take him long to set down his belongings, grab a script book from the cupboard, and flip to the page that the scene was on. Now that he was on the page, he looked up at Julie and something seemed to jump inside her. Her heart beat faster and she had an overwhelming sense of de ja vu.

"Hello," she said, her voice low, quiet, and oddly shy.

"Hello," he replied, his voice like hers, "Ready?" she nodded.

"'He jests at scars that never felt a wound,'' Romero's voice was smooth and so into character, "'But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon…'" Romero's words sunk through Julie's skin and they felt so familiar, he felt so familiar. Everything he said was like music and she longed to hear his voice more. Suddenly, he glanced away from his paper and began memorizing the script, like he knew it by heart, "'…as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing. And think it were not night. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek,'"

Julie knew this was her cue and all at once she was in a different place, a different time….

"Ay me!" she cried out, "Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore out thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet," the words flowed from Juliet's, no, Julie's mouth like they had been preplaced there. Words came from her lips and responses came from the dark of the bushes. She knew it was Romeo, she felt it in her heart, but it scared her to death. Not just that it was happening, but Julie felt a different fear; a fear for Romeo.

"How cam'st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb; and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here…."

"With love's light wings did I o'er perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out; and what love can do, that dares love attempt," they spoke to each other with words that made Julie's head spin. Finally it slowed down, and Julie felt, in her heart once more, that it was time to return to reality.

"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night, till it be morrow."

Julie turned around and was now back at her drama class, her script book on the ground and, as she looked up, she found Romero's on the ground as well. She looked into his deep eyes and saw fear, confusion, hope, and a look that made him look lost. That's how I feel, thought Julie, and then she turned her head at the sound of clapping.

It was Ms. Cara, whom was at the back of the room and clapping quite loudly. Soon enough, the whole class was clapping for them; Julie looked at Romero, held his hand, and bowed. She felt proud and anxious at the same time. Her heart pounded and holding his hand just intensified the feeling.

"Beautiful," said Ms. Cara, "Just beautiful; brilliant job, the both of you. It was so real. Class dismissed," she added. The class scattered, patting Julie's back and congratulating Romero, still, something didn't feel right. This scared Julie worse than anything for it was a feeling that was new to her. Romero turned to say something to her, but she ran out without a word.

She spent her free period hiding in the yard and doing homework. Julie, if she was being honest to herself, was hiding herself from Romeo. No, Romero. Julie refused to think of him as Romeo, whom was Juliet's husband. She remembered the words Juliet had exchanged with Romeo; it had been like a flashback, like before, in her dream. Scared and confused, Julie spent the entire day avoiding Romero, even when they were in the same class, she felt scared of the feeling she now felt and had asked to be excused. At the end of the day, she had run home, breathless and safe. Then she ran up to her room, shut the door, and fell, exhausted, into her bed.

She stared at ceiling and wished she could stop thinking about him, that the feeling in the pit of her stomach would disappear, forever. She closed her eyes and attempted to will it away. Julie tried to ignore the face that belonged to Romero Montage but nothing worked. It was just that he felt so familiar and he was just so amazing with his brown hair and dark chocolate eyes. No, Julie thought stubbornly, forget him. Clear your mind…. Sleep took her then.

"Romeo?" she called out, "Is that you?"

"It is, love, it is." Juliet sank to the ground at his words. He was alive, after all this time, he was alive. She felt something growing inside her, and the guilt and the longing spilt out, "Oh, Romeo, how I've missed you so. I'm sorry, my love, that I could not save us. It is all my fault, I'm sorry, so sorry," and Juliet knelt to the ground and wept.

"Do not cry, my love, I am well, and so are you. Be happy and rejoice that our love is reunited," he said, his voice happy and joyful, but suddenly it turned sad, "Juliet, your beauty is truly a gift to behold. My selfishness and stupidity brought this upon us both. I am forever sorry,"

"No," she whispered and she jumped out of her window. It didn't hurt because she was dead and she felt no pain as she hit the ground. She rose and hugged her love, her Romeo, and kissed him.

"I have waited," she whispered, "For you, but now there shall be no waiting."

Romeo shook his head and grinned the reckless grin he knew Juliet loved most. And the two lovers wandered away, hand in hand, never letting go....

Julie woke up with a start. So they had indeed found each other, she thought, in the end, they were reunited. She thought about that, and then she looked at the clock. She must have slept for many hours because it was almost mid-night. The fireworks, she thought wildly and raced out of her house and down the road. Her mother must have gone without her to let her sleep. She ran hard and rested herself on a bench after a few moments. She breathed deeply, trying to catch her breath. Julie replayed her dream in her head. So the diary? The stories? The dreams? They had all been true? A wind came by and rustled the leaves, causing Julie to shiver. This frightened Julie more than anything. The last few days had been scary and awkward and she honestly didn't want the dreams of love and happy endings. She was only fourteen, she could wait. But.... But what? she asked herself. But I like the feeling I got when I was Juliet in my dreams. She loved Romeo, and I felt the strength of their love. She felt the doubt in her heart waver. She was so confused. She didn't know what to do...

Then she looked up. There, in front of her, a few feet away, was Romero, staring at her, his hands in his pockets. He's waiting for the fireworks too, she thought, maybe we could... she felt the blood rush to her face. No way, he'd never want to watch it with her. She'd avoided him the whole day and he probably didn't like her at all. But...? The word echoed in her head and a new voice, a little different than her own said, 'why not? You don't know unless you try,' Julie was nervous and more than a little frightened, but stood up and began to walk towards him. As if to help her along, a gust of wind pushed her a few more steps causing her to lose her footing and almost tumble into Romero. His arms went up and he grabbed her forearms to steady her. She blushed and quickly righted herself.

"Thanks," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"No problem," he said, his voice shy, like in class. They were both quiet; Romero broke it first, "So, what brings you here?"

"The fireworks, they're beautiful at night," he nodded in agreement and whispered something quietly.

"Pardon?" she asked but he just shook his head and stared at her. Julie could have sworn he had said, 'so are you'. She blushed and watched as a similar colour painted his cheeks.

"Would you like to watch the fireworks with me?" she asked suddenly. She was about to with draw the offer when he nodded and said, "I'd like that,"

They stared at the stars, waiting.

She could feel his gaze on her and she turned to look at him.

"I feel like I know you," he whispered, trance like, "I don't know why, but I wonder all the time."

"So do I," she said and watched Romero as shock crossed his face, "And I don't know why either. You remind me of someone," Julie said. Romeo, she thought, he reminds me of Romeo.

"You remind me of Juliet," he said.

"Do you have bizarre dreams of Romeo and Juliet and do you have a diary belonging to one of their ghosts?" she asked, somewhat rushed.

He laughed. "No diary but I've had the dreams." Julie nodded and looked away. She liked him, she could see that now, but was it Juliet that made her feel that way?

"I'm so confused," she said quietly.

Romero took her hands in his and stared into her blue eyes.

"So am I," he told her, "But I'll help you and I'll be here for you. I'll get you, us, through this. I promise," he said. Julie smiled.

"I'd love that," she said and she leaned forward and hugged him. This felt right to Julie, and her heart leaped joyfully at their touch. Julie heard a bang and glanced at the sky above. It was filled with fireworks of various colours; blue, pink, red, white and silver. Julie released Romero but held onto his hand and leaned on him. Julie knew she was safe, and she wouldn't be confused and soon, the two of them would be happy together, because there never was a story more lovely and slow like that of Juliet and her Romeo.

"Look at them," said Juliet, smiling, "Are they not cute, Romeo?" Romeo looked down at her and smiled his smile. Juliet glanced at the two fourteen year olds as they held hands under the fireworks. Her reincarnation had met with Romeo's and they looked happy together. Romeo slipped his arms around her and held her close.

"We did good, right?"

Juliet laughed, smiled, and kissed Romeo, long and hard. Her heart beat quickened as per usual. Whenever she was with him, it reminded her of their days when they were both alive and in love, "Yeah, we did good," she looked over at the pair of reincarnation and smiled at them. Although they could not see her, Juliet had been guiding Julie as Romeo was guiding Romero so that both reincarnations could be together. It was a beautiful sight, to see the young couple so very much like themselves (Romeo and Juliet). Juliet leaned into Romeo's embrace and thanked the Holy One that they were together at last, "Indeed, I think we did very good."

The End

Thanks for reading! Happy Valentine's Day!

Hullo again!

Thankyou so much for reading my story. I hoped you enjoyed it. Plz read and review, kk? Thankyou.