No Turning Back (Rewrite)

Chapter 14

Shakespeare was one of my favorite authors to cover in English class. While everyone else in the class moaned and groaned at his name, I hid my excitement with a tiny smile. Honestly, I wasn't sure why I enjoyed his work so much. Beneath the poetic speeches and clever comebacks were petty, over-dramatic characters who made awful choices and horrifically watched the consequences.

My mother explained this concept to me once when I was younger. We were sitting in the library together on a Sunday afternoon. I was reading a Captain Underpants graphic novel, and she was flipping through A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"This is ridiculous," she said with a groan. "How are people this stupid?" Frustrated, she closed the script and tossed it on the table.

"What do you mean, mommy?"

She shook her head. "In this story, four people accidentally fall in love with the wrong person. So, everyone is in love with someone who isn't in love with them, but who should be. It's all one big mess." She rubbed her temples with her fingers. "But it does make for good drama. I swear, all of Shakespeare's works were the foundation for modern-day scripted television shows."

"How? What does Shaking Spear write about?"

My mother smiled. Underneath the golden sunlight, her brown eyes glimmered like drops of honey. The expression on her face added to the sweetness of her irises. "He writes about the bad choices people make and the effects of those choices. All his characters are terribly flawed, and they make terrible decisions. None of his plays truly have a happy ending. Usually everyone dies."

"Cool!"

She giggled. "No, not cool." She gently eased the graphic novel from my hands. The smile on her face dimmed as she idly slid her fingers across the pages. "People will make bad decisions; that's inevitable. What matters is how we deal with the effects of those decisions."

I tilted my head. "Have you made bad decisions, mommy?"

Her eyes remained on the novel in her hands. "Yes."

"Was I one of those bad decisions?"

She looked up at me with wide eyes. "Why...why would you say something like that?"

It was my turn to look down. "You and daddy are always so busy. Neither of you ever want to hang out with me."

"Of course, we do. Your daddy plays basketball with you, and we come to the library together. We love hanging out with you!"

Tears threatened to brim my eyes. Although the shared times were nice, I noticed they occurred in repeating patterns. Basketball time with my dad always fell between four and six on weekday afternoons. Library time with my mom always landed between eleven and two on Sunday's. Obviously, I was just another designated block in their busy schedules. All the other chunks of their time were spent elsewhere. In some instances, my block held less priority over their other responsibilities and tasks. My time with my parents trimmed down more and more over the years until I was barely a speck on their calendars. Even then, the tiny speck was quickly erased.

Sometimes I sit and think about the horrible decisions the characters in these plays make and the disastrous chain of events that follow. Then I reflect on my own decisions and wonder if I'm whirling down my own downward spiral.

For senior year, we're required to study Hamlet. Truth be told, I liked this play. In my opinion, Hamlet was one of the few characters whose impulsive and irrational actions were justified. If I thought my uncle killed my father in order to marry my mother and take the throne, I'd act crazy and see what happens too. And, his existential crisis hit a little bit too close to home.