It's much darker than usual, even for my dank and desolate cave. That monster that attacked me had no right. No right at all. Oh, how it stings my eyes to be blind! That painful light that he brought in here! That loathsome Elfish star pierced my black eyes and blinded three of them. I had already lost sight in one. Old age had finally caught up to me. It seems my match has as well. Oh, how it pains me, almost as bad as the throbbing beneath me. How dare those foul creatures from outside invade my home? How could that little speck of dirt, Gollum invite them in here to ail me? If he dare try and step foot inside again, I will wrap him so tight in my web that even breath could not get out. Ah, but I need to rest more, here in my delicious dark. The intruders are gone, my fresh meal is ruined, and my entire body aches with grief. It is getting much harder to see.
I think I'm healing slowly, if even at all. The ooze beneath me is so uncomfortable, but I am in too much pain to move. The burning in my eyes and face remind me of so many years ago, when the orcs brought their torches and fires in here. Attacking them was no good, for their flames were bright and they had sharp weapons that I was not used to. My children were still with me then. They were young and hungry, waiting for their mother to provide, but thanks to those brutes of creatures, I failed them one too many times. They abandoned me; went to live with my sisters in Mirkwood. Despite how I begged, they crept from the cave, down the stair of our ragged cliff, and disappeared into the blazing white of a world I had deserted too long ago. I could not – would not – go with them. Fear of the light outside and hatred for my sisters in Mirkwood kept me locked within my solitary den, to wallow in self-pity and repugnance.
How my belly aches with pain! I suppose sleep might be the only way to rid myself of this torture, but I'm afraid. What if this is the end? I am so old, after all. My eyesight is receding from every eye now. I have no one here to comfort me, just the grim, whispering hisses echoed from orcs and their dark brothers somewhere within my home. I can hear those vicious orcs talking about me. How nasty their words are toward me, as I lie here in immense discomfort. But I have no motive to attack them after such a brutal attack from that fast, little creature. I can hardly keep my legs strong or steady enough to stand up. And my sight only grows dimmer as their voices grow and fall into the distance. I do not think I could find them if I tried. My head is spinning so fast from the burning in my eyes and my stomach churns. I can only imagine what I must look like now: a broken and bulging fiend with unkind dreams of when beauty was my only compliment. Those days are long gone and only ugliness and death can possibly be my future from here. I should have followed my children, fought for their everlasting companionship, but I was weak with anger. Now I can only lie here alone as the world's end approaches.