Writers Bleed on Paper

Note: This story is inspired by Romeo and Juliet by the poet and play-writer William Shakespeare, only parts of the story in this story (quotation or general plot) was written by William Shakespeare.

TW: Mentions of suicide and murder.

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I'm sure you've heard the phrase, 'writers bleed on paper.'

I'm the result, I am the character that dances on the ivory pages of the stories you read, I am formed through the hundred black stains that make word after word.

But I'll tell you something you don't know. The creations of writers, we are exactly what we seem. Stains, stains on the soul, stains on a page, stains on a heart.

The only thing that changes me from the rest of them, is the fact that I did what the others didn't, I got a chance no others did.

I got a chance to bleed on the paper that made my story.

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I am named Romeo.

My creator's name is William, his last name I am unsure of.

I hear him thinking quite often. I hear our stories unfold in his head, like a cauldron in a pot, he adds more and more elements, deciding against some and finding new ones he didn't think he would add. Finally, the cauldron is warmed, and it broils until little drops spit over the rim. Then he takes the long pointed quill and drags it along the pages.

Our story bleeds from that quill, he holds it in his right hand. He drowns the tip of the quill into the black ink and drags it along the pages again and again. It's gotten us almost to the end of this story.

Today, he’s trying to decide how we’ll end. He flicks through many hundreds of different thoughts, discarding, shuffling, considering.

I love watching this, it's like an album. Now I’m watching Juliet, I’m holding her in my arms, she looks up at me. The image flicks by, I’m left a little lonely as Juliet is pulled out of my arms, a new ending taking it's place. 

In his mind, I’m thrown into a room where-

No. He didn’t even get halfway through the thought before he vetoed it. 

His thoughts jump around, shifting. Then he stops. He’s found the ending.

Juliet's pale skin, deep brown eyes staring up at a ceiling, lifeless, dead, her fair skin a sharp contrast to the long gown that swallows her limp body.

Horror chills my blood, I watch as I see her body. I watch as poison slips in my throat, as I press my lips to the lifeless body of Juliet, I hear my voice in William's head.

“Thus with a kiss I die.”

Then I do. I die. We are dead.

I can’t move, the shock so acute that it turns into heartbroken agony. I fall to my knees, waiting for the scene to fade to black. Waiting for a change, because we can’t end this way.

There is no change, not at first, but then Juliet wakes up. I watch her sit up.

She was never dead. 

No. That can’t be right. I stare as she looks at my lifeless body. I killed myself, wanting only to join her. I left her behind.

Then she takes my dagger.

“This is thy sheath: there rust, and let me die.”

From where I fell on my knees, I sink further. Falling into the darkness of the unwritten, but even now I can feel as William goes to his quill. I feel as he drowns the pointed tip in the ink. I feel his joy, his excitement as he brings the sharp tip to the paper, hesitating only slightly. Making sure of his choice. 

I feel as he begins to bleed onto the paper.

Word by word, I’m dragged to the lifeless body of Juliet. Yet I know that she lives. Her heart still beats, I know, but I can’t do anything but what he is writing.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly the scene drags on.

We are reaching the end. Where we will both be gone. I feel the exchange, the poison dropping in my hand.

No! No! Just wait a little longer

My mind begs, it cries for this mercy. I want only to live out my life with Juliet, can’t this be granted?

I’ve danced on these pages, let William pull the strings for so long. I’ve been his puppet and this is my payout.

No! Please, please no.

My begging gets slowly weaker. The poison reaches my mouth. I feel its effects as my lips press against Juliet’s. I fall, as my last words leave my mouth, and then I fade out. I can only watch from afar as the scene plays out.

Why, why did nobody tell me? Why? 

I scream out to the world, asking for an answer. Then I turn my attention to William. I watch him smile as he kills Juliet. As he takes her hands and drives the blade into her frail, gentle body.

As the blood leaks from her body, I turn my attention to William. I watch as he sets down the quill for a moment. Suspending Juliet in the world of grief, of pain, the world that he left her in.

I blink, and something shifts. I am standing behind William. Clutching the blade that was buried in Juliet.

Then I understand, slowly, I walk towards William. He doesn’t notice me. I can’t help but smile slightly. The irony is undeniable.

The creator is killed by its creation. What was even funnier was he was going to be killed the same way Juliet was.

My mind doesn’t go fuzzy, I don’t feel numb as I bury the dagger in his heart. I watch as he bleeds, a shocking red.

When he is dead. Truly dead, I take the pages containing Juliet's fate, my fate, and I burn them.

I watch as the fire licks the ivory pages, watch as the embers spit sparks. The pages curl around themselves, blackening and shriveling. Ink drips from the pages, hissing against the embers.

It sounds like a scream.

Then, when I’m certain it's all dead and gone I pick up the quill myself. I twist it in my fingers, considering it. 

The feeling was almost familiar, as I drowned the tip in ink. Pressed it to a blank page. 

A writer’s creation, I realize, will always be their worst enemy. 

A writer pours their soul, their secrets, their weaknesses, into their creations. Their creations know everything about them. Slowly, I drag the quill over the pages. Still contemplating this fact as I come to the last words.

I had seen his plans for us, we would be dead, and he would bring us to thousands of theaters. We would be famous.

That wouldn’t fit.

So I reach the last word, determined not to end it the way he wanted. I reach the ending, the true ending.

The word comes easily. The very last word, it will be forever.