As part of a Year 11 literature assignment, Lily, from Emmanuel College, Gold Coast Qld, wrote a short story based on the people left behind after a loved one’s suicide using different modes.

The Cost of a Kingdom

‘You call yourself a king, yet it is on the death of children that your throne is made.’

Their faces flash before my eyes at her bitter words, memories of Oedipus’ muted brown hair falling in front of eyes so unremarkable they do not fit the king who once was, the brother he once was. And those boys, his boys. Their playful fights a long-ago dream, Eteocles and Polynices laughter rings in my head, I shake and shake trying to rid of the haunting sound. Warm thick blood fills up my lungs. I gasp, choking on their blood, guilt overwhelming me.

Sunken, all too familiar unremarkable eyes stalk my every laboured breath, a predator ready to strike. ‘I gave him the honour he deserved, to be buried in peace. You laid out his body like it wasn’t the one you watched grow up. You’re no uncle, Creon, but I guess you got what you wanted, watched it all play out.’

Her face, so much like her fathers, twisted in contempt, the arch of her brow as she condemns my sins, so like the one that used to chide me for stealing his swords. Her peplos was muddied, grass stains marring the fabric, her fingernails clumped with dirt. A vision of her crimes.

‘Were you seen?’ I gasp out, a sense of urgency causing me to pace the cold tile floors of the sandstone palace.

But she continues, ignoring my question, a spear preparing for the final kill. ‘Thematic I suppose, was it Creon, watching Eteocles and Polynices fight it out, brother to brother, my brothers! For what? A chance to rule this forgotten wreak of a kingdom? You watched them as they killed each other, both heirs to the throne. They did all the dirty work for you, so you could stroll right in, take your place as King. You chose a kingdom over your own blood! Over your own nephews! Did you even try to stop them? Try to …’

‘Did anyone see you move the body?’ I urge, yet she ignores my questions whilst staring with those eyes of fire, ready to burn my crown to pieces.

‘You knew Polynice is stubborn, wait no, no, no, was, he was stubborn, he was, was…’ I see her testing out the word, like it felt foreign in her mouth. ‘He was stubborn, bringing in those foreign princes to fight back against his brother. All because they both couldn’t wear that stupid crown.’ Never breaking eye contact, she gets up close to me now, her body trembling with anger.

‘Is it everything you wanted it to be?’ She spits out.

‘Antigone,’ I sigh, finally at my breaking point, sick of the villain she has made me out to be.

‘Was the crown worth it? Worth the death of my brothers? Children! They were just children!’ She continues, unwavering in her assault of words.

‘Antigone, I beg of you …’ I want, no, need this unbearable pain to end. The crown sits heavy on my head, the choices I made for it, the lives lost to it. An entire kingdom’s future balanced on the lives of my beloved. My nephews, children, they were just children!

Oedipus gone, Eteocles gone, Polynices gone.

‘Why, oh why couldn’t you have just given Polynices the burial he deserved? You give Eteocles a burial of honour for fighting for his kingdom against who,’ a low sobering laugh, ‘his own brother? Polynices would never even harm this wretched place he called a kingdom, the same kingdom he was fighting to rule. You disrespect him, leaving him splayed in the dirt for all to see, he was…’

‘He was a traitor!’ I roar, my anger and shame spiralling out of control as I picture how I left his body on that hill, still covered in his own blood, the myrmekes already crawling through his stab wound. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myrmekes

‘He was you nephew!’ She screeched, pain lacing every word.

‘And by the crown, he deserved his punishment.’ I am broken by the choice I had to make, seeing the disgust mar her face, that face, all too familiar. There was nothing I could have done. Nothing. As my first act as king, I could not appear weak, kingdoms fall on weak kings. I could not put family above the kingdom, I could not. I had to look after my people, so that is what I did.

She shook her head, her manic eyes finally breaking their hold on me, ‘this crown has done nothing for this family. Its allure more tempting than life itself. You watch, you just watch. You’ll be next and this time, it will be to someone who deserves it,’ she turns to walk away, her matted brunette curls whipping with her swift movement.

‘Now Antigone, were you seen?’

She whips back around, stalking towards me, pointing her stained finger at my face, ‘You left him to be the food of myrmekes.’

Sick of her theatrics, I look to the guard who brought her in, with the shake of his head, I finally have my answer. She was not seen. I look up to the stone ceiling, thanking Tyche for looking down on me today, for not letting her be seen, for saving her life. It would be seen by the people as a revolt against the King, against my orders. Her actions last night, to bury the body, if she had been seen, would have sent her to her death. Treason it is, to go against a king’s orders. And publicly no less. I could not choose again, the kingdom over blood.

‘Go to bed and if anyone asks, tell them you have been ill,’ I demand.

‘I will go out again tonight, and every night until …’

‘You will not!’ I interrupt her, rage simmering over.

‘I do not take orders from you, you are not my father,’ she meets my rage head on, those unremarkable eyes damning my every word.

‘I am your king!’ I spit out at her, the crown’s presence infiltrating my every thought, ‘and if you think just because you are Oesdipus’ daughter you are above all of this, you are wrong. You are not a righteous princess anymore, Oesdipus is dead. He does not rule now, I do.’

This girl and her twisted words, her repeated lies, need to be put to rest. The feeling strengthens inside me, slithering thorough my organs, twisting around my heart. Coldness sets in, calculated thoughts line up one after the other. A liability to the kingdom. She needs to be dealt with. She wants it. To join her much loved family. Reunited with her brothers in death. This kingdom can find peace. I need to do what’s best for the kingdom. Crown before blood. She must die. Her disrespect and stubbornness, stubbornness so similar to his … Oesdipus. Oesdipus, my brother.

I bring my hands up to the crown on my head, feel its golden points release their grip on my skull as I remove its wretched presence, holding it to my side. The pressure that was snaked around my heart loosens its tight grip, darkness retracking its fingertips from my mind. Anger waning.

She is Oesdipus’ daughter, my niece who’s already broken from death at her young age, with both brothers and father gone. A flash of light brings my attention to the ring on her finger. Haemon. How could I forget Haemon. My son Haemon would never forgive me for her death; his fiancé, his future wife, the future Queen of Thebes, the future mother to heirs. Haemon would not recover from her death, he is my heir and his reign will depend on his happiness. The people have been awaiting their wedding. Her death might impact Thebes more than her selfish existence impacts mine.

‘Go to your room and tell everyone you are sick,’ I repeat.

‘No, you…’ her resistance is interrupted by the frenzied entrance of a guard as he stumbles up the stone stairs.

‘We were wrong,’ the guard breathes, gasping for air, ‘they know of her defiance against your orders. Somehow, someone saw her, it’s all the people are talking about.’

My shoulders droop, I cannot save everyone. I cannot save her. The kingdom must always come first. I lift my crown back to my head, the authority falls back into place. As its rim touches my head, the vice around my heart once again compresses, bitterness filling my body.

‘You leave me no choice. Goodbye Antigone,’ I turn my back, once again, on family. My gaze falls upon the serene sight of my kingdom, the gentle breeze catching the sand in a dance, the peace so at odds with the manic state of my head.

‘Guards, take her to be immured.’ I hear the scuffle of feet as they retreat down the hallway, Antigone, for once, quiet. This is the right choice, for the good of the kingdom. They know now. They cannot see me as weak to overlook her rebellion. She is not worthy of being by Haemon’s side when he begins his reign, she is not worthy of mothering future kings.

A wail resounds through the hall, a keening cry one should not hear from a grown man. He runs to me, Haemon, and I have never felt such shame as when he falls as my feet, weeping, and begging for Antigone’s life. Shame for how badly I raised him to be, an heir so weak he withers down to a trembling child, brought to his knees by an unworthy girl. Weakness is all I see.

I stand motionless, numb to his pleading. Antigone has been publicly led out to the caves, everyone of Thebes will now know of what she has done. I cannot help her now. I step around Haemon, striding out the door.

Two hours later, I am told of Antigone’s death, the enclosed tombs endless silence drove her to hang herself. Finally, a selfless choice.

Oedipus gone, Eteocles gone, Polynices gone, Antigone gone.

Three hours later, I am disturbed from my meeting by a guard, his face ashen, sweat rolling down his forehead. With a trembling voice he informs me that Haemon has stabbed himself with his own knife, the sight of the hanging corpse of his love too much to bear. Foolish, weak boy.

Oedipus gone, Eteocles gone, Polynices gone, Antigone gone, Haemon gone.

Four hours later, a guard passes me a note sent by my wife. She could not live with the Haemon’s death, it read. Her only son gone. They found her throat slit, laying in a pool of her own blood. Sensitive, single-minded woman.

Oedipus gone, Eteocles gone, Polynices gone, Antigone gone, Haemon gone, Eurydice gone.

It is when I finally reach my bedchambers that I remove the spiked crown and a quiet finally settles in my head. An emptiness hollowing out my body as my decisions sink in. I am alone, completely and utterly alone.

I have no one.

No one.

No one.

No one but the kingdom I have sacrificed all those I love to protect.