When I woke up, I was a lot of pain. My headed pounded, a pain that was worse than any I had ever felt. I didn't even want to open my eyes, but I heard crying next to my bed. Who would be crying in my room, if it wasn't me? Almost no one even came in there. It took several tries for me to even force my eyes open. The pain wasn't only in one spot on my head. It felt like the pain was making every other body movement more difficult, and I just wanted to sleep.
When I finally got my eyes open, I was looking at the ceiling. I knew it would take another couple of minutes for me to even turn my head. God, it was like what I imagined a gunshot would feel like. When I turned my head, I couldn't help but moan. The person who was crying looked up. Her hair was tangled, and her eyes were red.
"Oh Corrine, I'm sorry," Ophelia sobbed. "I was watching him, but he got away. Then he hurt you and... and..."
I blinked slowly, trying to comprehend. "And?" I rasped. She took a break from both crying and apologizing to help me sit up and drink some water before she continued. When that was done, she sat back in her chair, pale.
"The king is dead. Poisoned," she whispered. "You were right, but we couldn't stop it." No. It couldn't have happened. How could I have let it happen? Hamlet's father was dead, which would be the beginning of the end. It didn't help that I was having a very hard time thinking clearly. It felt as though there was a drum on the inside of my brain, banging against my skull. I reached up to feel the back of my head.
"I tried my best. I cleaned it and bandaged you. Honestly, Corrine, you're lucky to be alive. I wouldn't have thought that he would even let you live. Maybe he thought you were dead? But now it would be too late, if he wants to be king." Ophelia murmured.
I winced, rubbing the bandage. "If he wants to be king? That's the whole reason he killed Hamlet's dad. The only thing we really did was postpone it," I said quietly. "And Hamlet will be back soon. And Claudius... if he thought I was dead, he knows I'm not now, and he could always ask someone to kill me, to keep his own hands clean. Things are not over, not by a long shot."
She nodded. "I know that. Hamlet will be back, and he'll be crushed at what's happened."
"Ophelia," I said reluctantly. "I don't think you should tell Hamlet what we know. If he knows Claudius is the reason his father is dead, he's not going to just sit by. And if he harms Claudius, there will be hell to pay. Claudius has spent months cozying up to all of the noble's while Hamlet was gone. They'll make him king before Hamlet even steps foot in Elsinore. He can't do anything to Claudius."
I watched her face. This was something big to keep from her soulmate. I wasn't sure if she would agree to it. Would I, in her position? I wasn't sure. I couldn't even keep the whole thing to myself, for all that it had helped me. We had lost, and I had almost died for all of my trouble. Now I had to make sure Claudius didn't think of me ever again. I had to disappear into the background until I could go home. Was it time to finally give up on Hamlet? My dad had already failed to save this play, and he knew every little detail better than anyone. Had I been kidding myself, even thinking I had been capable of fixing what he couldn't?
He had been wrong, my father. I couldn't do it. But until this all came to a close, I couldn't even leave this place. So for now, all I had to do was survive. That couldn't be that hard, right? Right?
Of course, I wasn't thinking of all of the variables. Horatio, for one. Maybe I could disappear from his view as well. I didn't want to see his face, so gentle in love, be horrified or angry or heartbroken, or a combination of all three. At least when I had started this, I thought it would be for a good reason, that I could explain it all away, or that I would just be gone. But now, now I just had to sit through this whole play, from Act I, which had just begun, to the very end. I would have to see two friends die, as well as a woman who had taken me in.
