Mood: Agitated
Hamlet has crammed me under this staircase and no one has found me yet. I hear the screaming of the King and of those searching for answers. I also have heard this woman singing, and I do believe it is my daughter. Oh, I hope she has not become too desperate and crazy. My son must have came back home to Denmark. I heard a crowd of people cheering his name, chanting that he should become King. How spectactular that would be! If my death brings that to this family, then at least I would have died for some good.
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