The Odyssey Reimagined

Drenched in the blood of his rivals, Great Odysseus hastened up the stairs eager to reunite with the love of his life. The door stood there as if it were a portal to his life before the war. Beyond a simple slab of wood was what he had been fighting for all these years. He could overhear the faint chatter of Penelope and Eurycleia from inside and couldn’t hold back any longer.

The door flung open and for a second he forgot how much time had passed. It seemed like just yesterday that he woke up with her by his side. “How lucky I am to have such a faithful and devoted wife. Oh how much I have heard of your fidelity and wit these past two decades. I hope you know I have ached and toiled incessantly all this time, just in hopes of returning to your loving arms.” Before his wife could even utter a word,

Odysseus embraced her. A smile bright as the sun spread across his face with tears of joy streaming down his cheeks. He had done it. He finally reached Penelope.

Odysseus felt a sharp pierce to his heart and glanced down to see his loyal Penelope, blade in hand. Quickly, his smile faded into an ugly grimace. Looking into her eyes, Odysseus was met with a cold, distant gaze. With his last few breaths, the once strong warrior of Ithaca, finally defeated, muttered: “Why my dear Penelope, have you betrayed me like this?”

She snapped: “Betrayal? How dare you mention such a word when you betrayed me long ago. Omniscient goddess Athena, angered because you continue to take undue credit for her assistance, revealed to me the truth about your whereabouts. How foolish I have been to stand by your side even when you are miles away with other women. I sobbed day and night while you glutton, lust, and greed. My one regret is the years I lost, sleeping, crying, and agonizing. Why am I expected to wait and remain loyal when you cannot do the same? The double standard of wives and their husbands is unjust and with your death I know I will be free. Free from the pain of watching the gates of our estate each day incase you return. Free from the burdening patience. Free from the trickery and deception I have taxed myself all for nothing. With your death, I can finally live.”

Odysseus could not fight any longer. Penelope ripped her hypocritical husband’s heart out, just as he did to hers. From the doorway came a maelstrom of shrieks and wails. Telemachus fell to his knees at the sight of his father’s dying body: “Mother! You wretched, vile woman! What have you done? We have waited all these years for father’s arrival and now it is all for nothing. Now I will never have a father to guide and love me like the other boys in Ithaca. You have torn our family apart and for that you must pay.”

As Odysseus’s only son he understood his obligation to avenge his father, even at the cost of his very own mother. Telemachus pulled out his sword, but Penelope did not flinch. Just a few inches away from the tip of the blade, Penelope stood calmly and bargained: “I know you feel as if it is your duty now to kill me as I did your father, but you and I both know he was all but a name. He was not there for your first steps nor was he present when you first spoke. He did not raise you as a father should, but instead put himself first.

Odysseus could have returned ages ago but was subject to desire and greed. He stopped from island to island, engaging with other women, feasting to his heart’s content, and telling stories. Even when provided the opportunity to return to fatherhood, he succumbed to the temptations before him and chose to stay. Not only was he unfaithful as a husband, but he was even worse of a father.”

Telemachus withdrew his sword, nodding his head: “Although there is no excuse for the murderous act you have commited, I understand. I, too, will never forgive him for how he treated both you and I. To father, we were dispensable. We were nothing but an afterthought to come back to when he was bored. I probably never even occupied his mind. When I first saw him, I thought I would feel something. I planned it out exactly. We would share a magical moment and jump into eachothers arms. All the time we lost would return. But his long awaited arrival was only a disappointment.”

Suddenly, Eucrycleia barged into Penelope’s chambers. A surprised Penelope questioned: “My old slave, what is it you enter my chambers for without knocking?” Eucryleia replied: “My lady, I apologize for my abrupt entry but trust me, you will want to see this.

She drew their attention to the windows off the balcony. Down below stood all of Ithaca, pitchforks and torches in hand, ready to avenge the suitors’ deaths. There were what seemed like thousands of them. “Down with Odysseus!” the wrathful relatives hollered as they pounded at the door. Fuming with rage, any second longer and the irascible horde would have swarmed the estate.

Much to their surprise, the gates opened. The throng retreated, preparing for a battle against their king. From inside the castle emerged Penelope and Telemachus, covered in blood, pushing a cart. Strapped on the wain lay Odysseus’s lifeless body. The queen and her son shoved Odysseus down the stairs into the crowd. An appalling silence plagued all of Ithaca, their king now dead at the hands of his queen.