A Plot Uncovered, A Murderer Discovered
I wrote this for English class two years ago.
“She must die!” I hear them whisper
Such cruel words from women I believed to be my friends.
They are jealous, I suppose,
Jealous that they are mere harem girls
And I am the Sultan’s wife.
They are plotting against me.
I know it.
See what she holds in her hand?
A bowl of poison and a rag to wash away the evidence of a crime.
Her conspirator nods in agreement,
Happy to have me out of the way
And happy to reclaim a post that was meant to be hers.
“Liars! Cheats! Falsifiers!” I scream at them.
They drop to their knees at the sound of my voice,
Groveling and asking for forgiveness.
“Forgiveness, forgiveness my lady.” They beg.
I cackle at their humbleness.
“What right have you to plan my death and beg my pardon?” I ask
The hand maiden begins to whimper.
Her accomplice is already crying.
“To the dungeons with you!” I shriek.
“Better to starve you in darkness than to behead you in light!
“May you starve and die like the beggars in the streets!”
The accomplice kisses my feet, begging for my mercy,
Saying she has children she must look after.
I kick her away and call for my guards.
As they are dragged away, I smile at them,
My would-have-been murderers.
I shall live to see the sun rise tomorrow.
I shall be queen for another day.
