Pacing the room, Lady Macbeth heard a distant toll. She heard tentative footsteps approach the imposing wooden door. With a creek, a bloody hand gradually appeared around the edge of the door. It slowly opened! Her husband’s hands low to his side quivering as his hands trembled.
“You should not have brought the daggers here!” Lady Macbeth Exclaimed in horror,
“Go back and put them in the guard’s hands as we planned”

Macbeth’s eyes were blank. He sat down.
“I can’t go back there; I can’t go back there, the look on his face….” Macbeth hoarsely replied to his wife, who showed no sympathy, whilst dropping his head to the ground in shame.

Lady Macbeth turned her back on her husband and sighed in frustration. After a brief pause, she turned back to face her husband; her eyes full of venom.
“You had one simple task and yet you can’t even perform that. Are you a soldier? Are you a man? All I see before me is a snivelling excuse for the name of Macbeth”
“You were not there, you do not know. I cannot go there, I can still hear his last breaths!”

“How do you ever expect yourself to become a king if you cannot follow a simple task?”

“Simple! No Way, I just murdered the king of the land!”

“Then I will” Said Lady Macbeth as she snatched the daggers off of Macbeth and then left the room.

Macbeths stood where he was, shivering uncontrollably, seeing nothing but King Duncan’s dead eyes staring. He tried to pray but his lips would not form the right words. Macbeth though about his wife’s words, why was this different? He had killed before in the name of others so why was it so difficult to kill for his own gain. Minutes passed like hours.
“Where is she?” He kept thinking to himself. Had she been captured? If she was caught then only a noose would be wrapped around his head, not the golden crown that he was promised by the witches.

Lady Macbeth returned, “I have done the deed, the guards have been set-up”
“Water should wash the blood off of our hands”

“Very well then” Macbeth replied as he slowly stood up.