When I was younger, I was a huge theater nerd. My mother would drive me to rehersals that were a half hour away after a long day of work because that was the only place doing shows. Eventually, that company started doing an annual Shakespeare summer show, and I was too young to get a decent role. So I stopped going.

Still, I've always had a great appreciation for both theater and film. I especially enjoyed myself yesterday in my English class, where we were enact dramatic readings of Hamlet. (Act III spoiler alert!)

The girl who usually plays Hamlet was absent, so I decided to step in. The girl who plays Polonius is actually my least favorite person in the entire world. I don't hate her, per say, but she is undoubtedly the last person on Earth I'd want to be stuck on a deserted island with. Hopefully that helps measure my dislike. She and I used to be best friends, but she was a very jealous person and extremely judgemental. She was undeducated and pushy in her politics (which greatly opposed mine), and we found after a short period of time that we couldn't stand each other. We became friends again last year, but after a messy breakup with her boyfriend (who is a brother to me), I saw that she hadn't changed. She was still the same jealous, immature person as before.

The other person I really have problems with is my mother. She's been in and out of my life many times, due to alcoholism and superiority and other things. She's in my life now, and she has changed a lot, but she never really admitted wrongdoing and I just let it slide.

We get in the last scene of Act III. Polonius hides behind a curtain, and I begin to yell at the queen, my mother. I call her a drunk and a fraud and get out many frustrations. Then, my stage directions point to Polonius. Mind you, the beef between Polonius and I well known throughout the class. And none of us had any idea this would happen, as this was the first time we read this far. Through the curtain, I pretended to stab Polonius. The previously laughing classroom grew silent and shocked at the irony. The one day I play Hamlet is the one part where he kills Polonius. It was too perfect. As the scene continued, I made amends with my mother. I pointed to Polonius' dead body and yelled, "I do not repent!" To which my English teacher corrected, "Actually, you do repent." I was so caught up in the anger for Polonius that I added in my own word of "not".

Obviously, I wouldn't kill anyone. But this was metaphoric. The dark cloud still surrounding my relationship with my mother became cleared. The demon of this girl that had followed me around was stabbed. It's still here, it's still a looming thought, but it's time to let it go.

Theater mirrors life in the strangest ways.