Our Plan

             I stood there laughing at the pitiful suitors. These imposters think they can string my father’s bow and whip the arrow through the axes. Only my father can do that, because he is the rightful king. It is sad that they try to even compare his excellence to theirs. The suitors always make me so angry, making me want to kill them. I enjoy knowing that my father is here and will help me exterminate the suitors. The drunken suitors have no idea about our little plan to take back our kingdom; I hope it stays that way. They disrespect my mother, taunting me and my father by saying that whoever can string and shoot my father’s bow will marry Penelope. My anger gets the best of me as I watch these egoistical suitors stand in my father’s palace with no care in the world. I cannot wait till they are dead.

            I was so determined to show these suitors where they belonged, thus I challenged them. They were greasing and warming the bow to try to make it easier for them to string the bow. I needed to make sure they would not live in my kingdom forever, so I decided to contest them. I told them if I was able to string and shoot the bow through the axes, whoever remarries my mother will leave my kingdom; however, if they win they could stay. The looks in their eyes  accepted the challenge, as they thought I was foolish for striking this deal. But I honestly thought I could beat these irritating suitors. I told them no cheating and no delay; we had to start right away.

            I did not repent my decision for a minute I knew this was the right thing to do. It was one of the only things I could do. I needed to ensure my kingdom would be available to my father and me, but with the suitors here that was impossible. I set up the axes very precisely, not making one mistake. I felt strong and powerful, as if the suitors feared me a little bit. I grabbed the bow with a smirk on my face. I took hold of the string, preparing the bow to be shot. I was so close; I almost had it. My powerful, brave feeling quickly changed to remorse. I tried again and again but still failed. I murmured to myself feeling self-pity. I saw my father, shaking his head and telling me to stop. Thus I did, but I felt like a failure; I will never be able to live up to my father’s legacy. Even though I was disappointed, I knew the plan was for my father to string the bow. Soon the suitors would spurt blood from their heads, hearts and necks.