I wrote this as my English final project and decided to post it here. This is also my first and last time writing creatively so enjoy.

My first memory is of a sunbeam shining through the window, illuminating a whirl of dust motes suspended in the air, a hazy sort-of glow whose light slowly woke me to the surroundings of a cramped, ramshackle room. It was then that I noticed the two figures peering over me from my place in the bed. One was a sickly man with sweat-sheened skin and a tired, defeated slump to his shoulders. The other figure could not quite be labeled as human. He was imposingly tall with a presence that commanded the room, but the wateriness of his eyes and the faint yellow sheen of his skin spoke of something different, something— other.

The strange being pulled me upright with an effortless jerk of his arms while the pallid man lined up gleaming instruments on the bedside-table. At the behest of the being, the sickly man, Victor Frankenstein, sighed and proceeded to give me a physical examination, checking over the "success" of his labor. After peering into my eyes, listening to my heart, and prodding my body in every place imaginable, Frankenstein heaved himself up from the rickety stool he had perched on throughout the examination. Shooting an inscrutable look towards the being, Frankenstein repacked his instruments and collected a few bags which had laid unnoticed by the door of the hut and left, shutting the door behind him with a bang that rattled the very room.

I never saw Frankenstein again. In the months following my awakening, the being taught me how to speak and more importantly how to listen. He also warned me about the horrors of the world outside our hut, a world filled with mankind's hatred and cruelty. A world I should fear.

It was after one of these grueling tirades, this time about a hunter shooting at him, that I gathered up my courage to speak for the very first time. With a stuttering breath, I asked, "Wwhat… should I call you… beee-ing?" then quickly glanced aside, cheeks flaming red as I listened to the garbled mess of syllables that was my question. How embarrassing compared to the smooth confidence that was the being's voice!

"What!" the being corrected, his voice like the sharp clap of lightning. Then, with twisted sneer and a hint of insanity in his eye, the being turned towards me, taking another step to tower over me. "You, my pet, shall call me 'Creature,' for that is the title my creator gave me and that is what I am." With a snort of disgust, the creature returned to his work, pausing just a moment to glance over his shoulder and shoot off one last scathing remark, "Let that serve as a reminder, little one, of the cruelty of man. I see how you peer out the window, desperate to see one of those foul beings."

Undaunted by the harshness of his reply and emboldened by him even answering my question in the first place, I stuttered out another question with slightly more confidence than before: "If Frank-en-stein named you, what am I called?... He did not speak to me at all."

My growing confidence vanished in a flash as the creature slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the beakers which lined its surface. With a wordless snarl he spun around and stalked towards me, raising my level of trepidation with each step closer. Backing into the corner, I let out a fearful whimper as the creature leaned over to growl in my ear.

"Frankenstein," the creature hissed, "has no say here. I am the one who decides! After all, I own you." With a huff, the creature took a half-step back and assumed a disinterested air, rolling his shoulders back and glancing off to the far side of the room. "However, you are nothing and shall always be nothing, so nothing you will be. You do not deserve a name, even one as detestable as 'Creature.'"

Too angry to think sensibly, I stomped back towards him. Looking him dead in the eye, I spat through gritted teeth, "What makes you think you own me? Frankenstein is my creator, not you!"

My "cheek" was rewarded with a smack. Spittle flew as the creature raged: "You were created because of me! A gift from my creator. To be the Eve to my Adam, subservient and companionable!" He drew back, still seething but slightly more subdued, slightly more controlled.

I glared back from where I had fallen to the floor.

In a harsh whisper, the creature declared, "Fine then, wench! If you will not serve me, I shall not provide for you! Go try your luck with humanity."

When I hesitated to move, he lashed out again, screaming, "GO!"

I left.

Right as I was passing under the archway of the door, the creature let out a low, sneering laugh. I paused as the creature called out one last parting remark. "Only come back once you've learned your lesson." And with that, the creature resumed his dark, mirthless laughter.

I do not recall much after fleeing the hut. Suffice it to say, I was a little distraught and overwhelmed at the time. However, I do vaguely recollect snatching a hooded cloak from a passing clothes line and boarding a skiff headed back towards the mainland.

While the rest the night remains persistently blurry, I remember one thing in vivid detail: Fear, thick and cloying, freezing my every thought and every action until I was left utterly petrified and scared witless. My mind ran in never ending circles, dredging up every horror story the creature had told me about mankind, every mention of their cruelty and their savagery. What would they do if they found me? Would they hurt me? Why didn't I beg the creature to let me stay?

These rampant thoughts were running through my head so quickly that I did not even notice the human until they placed their hand on my shoulder. With a stifled shriek, I jerked back from their touch, stumbling to the dirt. I tried to scramble away, terrified the human would see my face, see my inhumanness, and attack me like they did the creature.

And yet, the attacks never came. The human, which I now saw was a short, blonde female, gently turned me to face her and hushed my terrified whimpers. She saw my face, with the same yellowed skin and deathly black lips as the creature, yet she did not flinch. She did not draw back in fear. She did not scream for help. She did not hurt me.

I could only stare back at her in utter shock as she lightly caressed my face and murmured gentle reassurances. Who was this person that treated me so? Even the creature, my pair, had not treated me with such kindness. Is it possible he was wrong about humans? That he had just met the wrong people and that some were truly good, truly kind?

My attention snapped back to her with a start as she asked, "What's your name?"

I did not know how to respond. I did not have one, but the creature had told me once that every human had a name. Should I tell her I did not have a name or think of one on the spot? I figured I had to come up with one quickly if I wanted to fit in, but what was I supposed to call myself? What would sound normal?

Seeing my hesitation, she gave me a half-lipped smile before whispering "My name's Mara."

I tried to smile back but I fear it turned into more of a grimace. Struggling to come up with a name, I spat out the first one to come up in my mind: "Eve!" After an awkward pause, I calmed down and repeated, "My name is Eve. It is nice to meet you… Mara."

Returning my awkward grimace with a broad, cheery smile, Mara took my hand, leading me towards a large tent in the distance.

"It's nice to meet you too! I've never seen anything like you before! You're so tall, so different! I'm sure my friends would love to meet you. They're all odd just like you!"

She continued to chatter on about her friends, but I was not listening. I had stopped paying attention the moment she mentioned that her friends were odd, that they were like me. I could not believe it. Could I become her friend and find a place where I actually fit in? A place where I could laugh and have fun with others like me, no longer alone with the creature's loathing or terrified of the outside world? I don't think I have ever been as hopeful as I was then. My hope ballooned in my chest, growing so large that I was afraid that it would burst out of me like a sunbeam, blinding the whole world with my joy.

Soon enough, I was dragging Mara towards the tent, too excited and too exuberant to walk at her more sedate pace. It seemed that my joy was contagious as Mara quickly picked up her pace and directed me to the opening of the tent with a giggle and a point of her finger.

As soon as we entered the tent, however, the joy in my heart crashed to a halt like an orchestra stopping in the middle of its performance, loud and chaotic. It was too frenzied. There were too many people. I tried to turn around and leave the tent before I was noticed, but Mara's grip of my hand, which had before been light and comforting, turned stern and clenching. I stopped, confused at her change of behavior, and tried tugging my hand away. When she did not let go, I turned to her only to see an entirely different person left in her wake. The Mara I now saw smirked at me with ice-cold eyes and a dagger-like smile as she dug her nails into my hand. Behind her, a man appeared, dressed in a red tail coat and a tall, black top hat. Before I could even process what was happening, he had locked my hands in heavy chains.

He sneered, "What a naïve little girl, so trusting and innocent. Your monstrous appearance will be perfect for my collection of oddities and deformities." With a cold, cruel chuckle, he added, "Don't you worry a thing, sweetheart, you'll get used to the chains." His piece said, the ringmaster dismissed me with a flippant wave of his hand and two strong-men dragged me off to a cage in the circus' "House of Horrors."

To this day, I remain with the circus, dragged from province to province to be gawked at and ridiculed. The creature was right. Humanity can't be trusted and things can always get worse. I simply traded one prison for another the moment I fled the creature's hut.