Dear Diary,

It is sad to say that I may have to do the dirty deed again to another close friend. Banquo. I feared that this day would come and I would have to do something about him. The three crazy witches had promised Banquo that his children would be kings and that he would be the father of a great royal family. Well, there’s definitely no way I’m going to let this happen.

I hate to do it but now I feel I must to protect my throne from others. I feel like now I can do it and not feel so bad about it because I have done it before. I will kill Banquo. I also sense that he will come after me and threaten to unveil my secrets. About the witches and about all of what I have done.

I killed Duncan, a king, and I will kill Banquo. I must protect my status as a skilled fighter, a king and a warrior. Those who threaten to hurt me and my wife will be dealt with, whoever it is. I hate to kill Fleance, an innocent child, but I have no choice.

At the banquet, I will put on my best fake smile and chat and eat with the guests. I have to look innocent so that no one can connect me to the crime or even be suspicious. I don’t want to but I must.

I’ve planned to have the best two murderers intercept Banquo and his son after they have come back from their ride on the horses. Hopefully, they will do their job and get paid and then I won’t have to worry.

I have always loved Banquo like a brother. His death is going to mean more to me than Duncan’s. Nowadays, I feel like everyone that does something wrong to me, has to die. The power of being king has made me feel too overwhelmed with all the responsibilities of governing and controlling a country such as Scotland. I just want to go into a battlefield and take apart some heads from their bodies.

Some say that power conquers all, including men. I think it is true. I’m starting to feel like I wasn’t meant for this. Yes, I wanted it and still do but I’m wondering if I made the right decision. I could be in my palace in Forres and be happy with my wife, with not so many problems and responsibilities. If only I had never gone to the heath and met the three witches. I can still remember their repugnant faces, their crazy eyes and there long, bent noses. Things would be so much easier.

I don’t really know why I’m writing this diary entry but I felt like writing what I feel would be better for me, like talking to someone. I still don’t know if I am right because I don’t feel any better. Perhaps, after the deed is done, I can go back to how things were. But there’s always something bad creeping around the corner, waiting for its chance.