I never saw Mary Shelly's book Frankenstein, as a horror story. I always pitied the monster and his horrible fate, so I decided to write a story where he might finally be happy. Please enjoy and I hope that you too come to appreciate the plight and tragedy of the Frankenstein monster.

So he didn't want to die after all. That was a surprise. His creator was dead on a doomed ship bound for the North Pole. He should be dead as well. But he was not yet ready to die. There was a strange feeling that possessed him, warning him that something lay ahead, a dream yet to be realized. If he perished on the glaciers, something would be terribly wrong with the world, there was someone out there who needed him to remain. Yet he knew this to be impossible.

Nonetheless he trekked south again. He didn't know how he would get off of the ice, but he would. He would find his way off and he would live, despite his promises to the ship's captain. He would hide from mankind so that none would see him, but he would live.

When the monster next saw the pale boughs of the majestic trees in winter he smiled briefly, before collapsing to the ground in a deep slumber.

187 years later

Anne stumbled as she ran through the forest. Her backpack contained a few items that she had hurriedly packed into there as she fled from her mother. Anne was running away from her home, if you could call it her home. The wild and threatening woods were a safer haven for her than the house that contained her drunken mother. Anne had had enough of beatings and cursings; she was never going back there, even if it meant she would perish in the forest.

Anne picked herself up and ran once more. She was not going to stop running as long until she collapsed. An insane voice in her head told her that if she stopped running her mother would suddenly be there to hurt her again and bring her back home. This was insane considering that her mother lay passed out drunk on the carpet in their house. Anne had seized the opportunity and ran as fast as she could for her own life.

Anne's chest began to burn and her legs were numb. The weather was cold and gray and a thin mist spread throughout the forest. She had not grabbed a warmer jacket since she was in such a rush to escape. She regretted it now, even though she knew that the noise she would have made getting a jacket would have surely woken her mother.

Anne finally stopped, her throat burning from the searing coldness of the air. She brushed her hair away from her face. She pulled off her bag to see whether or not she had grabbed any food in her rush to get out the door. Her face fell; she hadn't.

She had, however, remembered to grab Band-Aids for the cuts she had received from her mother. She began to carefully apply them, praying that she would not get an infection. She knew she would have enough to worry about if she managed to live through the night.

Anne resumed walking, looking for some shelter where she might hide in until the next morning. There were many mountains in the area, so she knew that there must be a cave somewhere. Her patience paid off, as she spied a small, nearly indiscernible opening in the rocks. She smiled and cautiously walked in.

The ceiling was rather low, but it soon opened up into the main cavern. At first it appeared to be a normal cave, but Anne gasped as she realized that someone, a human, lived here. She turned to leave when she spied a huge figure stooped and entering into the cavern. It looked up to her.

It's skin was yellow and stretched, looking like parchment about to rip. She could see veins and arteries extensively under the hideous skin of the creature. It's black hair hung long and lankly across its face. It's lips were black and thin, and as the creature approached her to speak she saw it's hideously white teeth, too perfect for that hideous body. It's watery yellow eyes stared at her in shock.

Anne screamed and fell to the floor in a dead faint.