To anyone who will read this: Hello! I just want to say that The Iliad is one of my favorite books. I hope you enjoy this! And this is Cassandra's point of view.

Muse, bless me, let me spin my tale. A story of death and destruction. Will you believe me?

A story of infidelity and war. No matter.

A story of blood and rape. Can you hear my cries?

A story of murder and trickery. I am calling out to you.

A story of Helen of Sparta.

The day she arrived at my home I knew. I saw the blood, dripping from her dainty hands. I saw the fangs hidden behind shining teeth. Her beauty does not act as a mask. Her beauty does not act as a veil. Taken from her home, does she despair? Or perhaps celebrate?

Am I insane?

Infidelity becomes bigotry. Does it matter? A second husband, a second life. I see the blood splattered on her pale wedding dress. My father smiles, he welcomes her. He does not heed my warning. He does not heed my dreams. Will they listen to me? Or mock my existence?

Am I insane?

I see the camps, the war camps. Our city is safe, they say. They send our youth. Sent to slaughter other youth, and be slaughtered in return. The city is safe with our impenetrable wall. The wall stays intact, coated with blood. All from her.

The wall will remain until our destruction. The wall will remain until our enlightenment. Do they listen to me? Or relish in their ignorance?

Am I insane?

I embrace my brother for the last time. I cannot cry, I see too much. His face covered in blood. His body hanging from a chariot.

I cannot cry, his son cries for me. A slash across his chest, for her. Brutally murdered, for her.

I cannot cry, his wife cries for me. I see the river, red with blood. I see the river, red with loss. Does she care about the tears? Or does she lay in wait?

Am I insane?

A gift they say. Almost sent from the gods. A statue covered in blood. A statue covered in my home's blood. Will I be a hero? Or another captured? A gift like mine.

Am I insane?

As night falls, I look at my hands. Without chains. The final time before my death. I turn to her room, to see her one last time. She smiles, fangs and claws covered in blood. Did I scream? Or was I silent?

Am I insane?

Screams everywhere. Blood flowing as though it is a river. Lifeless bodies, flaming buildings. My home. Looking up, I see a man chain my wrists. He smiles. Raped women, defiled temples. I know what I did. I gave up. He pulls me along to join the other women. I see his body, bleeding.

Am I sane?