Perhaps I am the most hated of all of the conspirators, because even though we all murdered Caesar, I stabbed him in the back. Figuratively, though- in actuality it was the side. My friend, my teacher, my enemy: Julius Caesar. Caesar and I had been close for years: I was his protégé and he trusted me more so than others. I had risen very far throughout my years, through leading fleets in the army as commander and then through working closely with the dictator over the years. But it wasn’t enough. Caesar loved me like a son, and even called me an heir. But pride in my culture was an important thing, something that came over all else in the world. Wars were won and lost over pride, and the same went with lives. I suppose that’s where Caesar came in. …show more content…
Ironically, the man who brought me into the spotlight was the man who thrust me back into the shadows just by existing. This hatred and envy deepened within me so much that I became convinced of Caesar’s treachery even despite the kindness he had shown me. This rage and bitterness became all consuming, and Cassius and I arranged the whole thing- we arranged the place, the time, and the other people needed. When Brutus completed our trifecta, the three of us knew we were prepared. The day of the assassination, everything seemed in place to work in our favor. Every detail was painstakingly planned, except for one thing: Caesar. Caesar’s wife had dreamt of his death, and he attempted to cancel the Senate meeting for fear of an omen. I was still in his good graces, so he confided in me. And in convincing him to go to that meeting, I metaphorically stabbed him in the back whilst sending him to be literally stabbed. In that moment, I betrayed my dearest