Frankenstein's Soliloquy

The lightning flashes around me and I see it for the first time- the sound muscles, the lithe limbs- I step forward, as though in a trance. I hear some words escape me, but they don't sound like my own voice, and they are lost in the moment. I don't care. Nothing else matters right now.

Then I look up.

It's as though it's a series of camera flashes, everything flickers oddly before my eyes. The face is framed with white flashes shattering the night, and the icy wind pushes through the drapes. I stretch out a trembling hand and touch the face- I need to feel it, to grasp it, to have something solid beneath my fingers, to make sure it isn't just another dream.

Now both my hands are on the face, snaking down to the neck and broad, broad shoulders, then back up, across the face, running through the hair.

I cannot believe it. I thought this day would never come. I cover my face with my hand, the other still laid on the shoulder.

I drop my hands. I need to make contact, to communicate. I have to hear those first words.

But how? How should I go about it? Like with a dog or a horse, I reason. Eye contact.

I raise my face to his- for I decided long ago it was to be male- and take a breath.

My large, clear grey eyes lock onto his crimson ones. He blinks.

And with that tiny movement, everything seems to be closing in on me. The beauty of the dream vanishes, and breathless horror and disgust fills my heart.

But I can't blame anyone- none but myself. It's my fault, not my family's, not the professors who whole-heartedly supported my ardent fascination with chemistry… no one's but mine.

This is my responsibility. This is mine to care for. I'm on my own now. Alone. Forever.

He steps towards me, as if unsure of his surroundings, and I take an involuntary step backwards. He sees this and gives me a reproachful look. I feel guilty. I need to say something, anything, to fill this silence. All the wrong words tumble from my mouth.

"But you're not what I thought you'd be- I thought I was making an angel!"

His eyes widen in hurt and surprise. I carry on, unable to stop myself.

"D'you know that? I thought I was making something better than human! Something so precious and beautiful that everyone would love it- and look at you. Look at what I've done."

Instantly I cover my mouth with my hand- but too late. He looks disbelieving, and crestfallen. He steps forward hopefully. I start to panic. My voice rises uncontrollably.

"No!" I shout. "This isn't what I wanted. Oh dear God, what have I done?" What have I done?

I try to calm myself. I step forward and peer at him. "Is it alive after all?" I inquire shakily.

He makes a noise, a terrifying sound that seems to come from deep inside. Abandoning all pretence of calm, I stumble backward, clutching at the doorframe.

"No!" I yell in anguish. "I didn't mean this! I didn't want this at all-" All I want right now is to get away- to lose myself- to run as far from this mistake as possible.

I manage to run from the room, sprint down the hallway and shut myself in the washroom without a single regard as to what I'm doing. I slam the door shut behind me and start to hyperventilate on the other side.

Dear God, how could I have done this? All these years- six long years of hard work and self-sacrifice- for what? Nothing.

A thought slices through the air like diamond. Henri. Elizabeth. William. Father. What was I thinking, brushing them to the side? They should always have been priority, not this.

I drop to my knees, tears streaming down my face, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. I've lost everything. Everything. I feel guilty, and angry with myself, but there are the beginnings of something else, too. Shame.

Written by

Chiara Giovanni

7y