Juliet Immortal

see the truth in your eyes. You hated me too much to ever be happy.”
    No
. That isn’t true. Something’s wrong with what he’s said. Something small but important.
    I close my eyes, letting the memory of my last few moments of life drift through me, rubbing it between by fingers, trying to name the exact nature of the feelings that pulsed beneath my skin. Despair, pain, sorrow, and, yes, hate. There was hate there, but not for Romeo, not
only
for him …
    The realization strikes like a beam of light, making me blink. It
isn’t
Romeo I’ve hated for all these years—at least not entirely. It’s … myself.
    I hated myself for giving everything to a boy who didn’t realize the gift he’d been given. I hated myself for loving him. I hated myself for dying for him—so much so that I tricked myself into believing a lie for my entire afterlife. I hated myself for continuing to give him power, for spending so many useless years hating him when I should have spent that energy loving others, loving myself.
    “Places,” Mr. Stark hisses from a few feet away.
    “I was sorry. If I could feel, I’m sure I still would be.” And then Romeo turns and walks away, but I can’t seem to move.
    I should have been loving myself.
Myself
. Can that reallybe the answer? Could that even be what my soul specter was trying to tell me? Something so simple and stupid-sounding and—
    “Come on, Ariel, don’t freak out on me now,” Mr. Stark says, urging me toward the edge of the wings. I go, shuffling like a zombie, lost in the tick-tick-tick of the pieces falling into place inside me.
    Is it stupid? Is it really?
    I’ve lived inside so many people, and I’ve never deemed one of them unworthy of love. I’ve tried to show them that they are valuable and their lives worth living. I’ve urged them to forgive themselves and the people who’ve wronged them, to choose a loving future over a bitter past. I’ve even done it with Ariel—wanted her to see that she’s beautiful and worthy of respect, felt pity for her that she can’t see the truth.
    And all this time
I’ve
been just as lost. I’ve never granted the girl I was forgiveness. Forgiveness for being naïve, for the mistakes she made. I’ve never given her the compassion she deserves. Given
myself
the compassion I deserve.
    I’ve failed at many things, but Nurse is wrong, I haven’t failed at love. Loving Romeo, loving the people I served, loving Ben—none of them were mistakes. It doesn’t matter if they loved me back or were grateful or if they even knew my real name. I’ve loved them and it was good.
I
am good. I am worthy of adding my own name to my list, of letting go of the regret and shame that have poisoned me for so long.
    So I do. I let it go, and know peace. It’s like a door has been opened inside me, revealing endless, bright, airy rooms I’ve never walked in before.
    I hear Mr. Stark making the welcome announcement, listen to him dedicate this performance to Nancy, and urge everyoneto keep her and her family in their thoughts. And then the opening music surges inside the theater, lifting me up along with it. This is it.
This
is the freedom Nurse talked about. I know it, the way I’ve known every other truth in my life. The way I know I love Ben and it is perfect and wonderful for however long it lasts, the way I know mistakes don’t have to be forever and love can be as powerful as evil.
    When I step out onto the stage, there’s no fear left inside me. Only excitement. Anticipation. For the fight, for the future, for the chance to look into Ben’s eyes and tell him that I love him even more than I did last night. I love him more because—for the first time in seven hundred years—I love myself.
    “The Sharks are gonna have their way tonight.…”
I sing each song with more enthusiasm than I’ve sung anything in my life, not caring that I can barely hold a tune with both hands. The audience doesn’t seem to care either, and I wish Melanie were here tonight instead of tomorrow. But still, there are over two hundred people filling the seats—teachers, students, parents, friends—and they are with us. With me. I can feel it in their applause as the Sharks rush on and off the stage.
    Even hearing Romeo sing about love in his divine, soul-twisting voice can’t dampen my enjoyment. I am alive for the moment. There is no fear or worry, only this strange assurance deep inside that everything
really is
going to be all right. I can’t