Itum est. (History | Julius Caesar | Ides of March)

Itum est

It's night and everything is silent.

Everything except my mind that is still so loud even in the sleep and in the dreams...

There's the sunlight, the usual buzz in the streets and the first birds have come back to sing after the cold winter.

I see someone in front of me, I look up to the face and recognize. It's the most powerful and most loved and hated at the same time man in Rome, and he's my husband: Julius Caesar.

«Calpurnia.»

He calls me, so I open my arms towards him smiling...

A strong tremor occurs and then I hear a rumble.

I watch my house's ceiling being literally eviscerated by a force that seems to be supernatural and falling on us; my husband pushes me into the impluvium that is filled with water so I can be safe, the rubbles won't hurt me as much as they would do if I stood under them falling down; I can't call him and tell him to join me because everything seems to vanish... the light and also the sounds.

I watch the pieces of ceiling plunging into the water with dull thumps and drowning slowly, then I resurface.

«Where are you?» I shout, trying to see something in the cloud of dust that surrounds me and doesn't seem to fade yet.

Then... I see him.

He's there, lying under a wooden table half-destroyed by the collapse, bleeding... without life.

I feel my heart stopping for a moment and then something like a stab.

I run to him and take him in my arms, I look at him feeling an undefinable chaos within me and then I lose control and scream until my throat burns and the tears start falling.

While I still look at him I notice many wounds on his chest, as if he's been stabbed...

What does it mean?

I wake up, sensing the daylight that is invading the room, and I look around seeking my husband: he's there, getting dressed.

«My husband, where are you going?»

He doesn't answer and keeps going, adjusting his robe.

My sweat runs cold; I get up and throw myself at his feet, hugging his knees.

«Please, don't go to the Senate!» I beg, crying. «Tonight I dreamed that you were dead, I'm afraid it was an omen!»

«Calpurnia, my wife, you usually aren't superstitious» he frowns, helping me to get up again. «It wouldn't polite to not go, the Senate decided that today I'll become a king. What will I say, that I can't go to the Senate until I or you won't have better dreams?»

«But...»

«Don't worry, nothing will happen.»

He gives me a little and chaste kiss and waves goodbye, then goes away.

He goes away and leaves me here fighting with the anxiety that devours me internally.

He went away.

Itum est.

He really went away.

He fell, stabbed for twenty-three times near the statue of Pompeius, killed by people he thought they were friends and also by Brutus, his adoptive son.

And I've been stabbed alive in the depth of my heart together with him who's now dead, I've been deprived of my man.

I held his lifeless body in my arms and against my chest as I did in that dream that I feared could become reality...

The sun's become dull, nothing has sense anymore.