He wanted her. A lot. No arguments, no questions, no reasons to defy that fact that he, Gregor Samsa, wanted a girl who didn't even know he existed. Every day at 9:00 am sharp, she would come, like a little light in his life. She never ventured into his room, but Gregor was, for now, content to see her on her way to music class. Nelly-Anne was her name and she was from America. He knew this for he had heard her and another girl talking, the first day he had seen her. Oh, and what a beautiful day that was, but most definitely not as beautiful as her.
It had been another normal day of him, sitting at his chair and waiting for his sister Greta to come and feed him. Two months after his transformation and Gregor was beginning to feel restless. The room seemed to grow smaller with each passing day, and the nights stretched on endlessly, for in his insect stage he did not need as much sleep. He abhorred having to be stuck in this room, but he gave no indication of this to anyone, not wanting to be a bother. His parents and sister were now working, and he would always sink to the ground in hot shame and think of himself as he was now, an insect for not being able to support his family. His life had become a swirling funnel of despair.
Then, Gregor heard it, a light humming, the voice of an angel he had thought and immediately tried to scramble out of his chair as fast as he could. His girth and small little legs that waved frantically back at him, made all this quite difficult, but luckily for him the sound had stopped just under his window. "Nelly-Anne" another screechy voice called. Huffing and puffing, Gregor gave on last push on his hind legs and was finally able to perch himself, or rather his head, on the small window opening. And that was when he caught sight, of the girl named Nelly-Anne. She sure was a sight for his eyes that were long accustomed to only see the dank darkness of both the outside and inside of his world. The fog around the neighborhood seemed to lift, and Gregor was able to get a better look at her face. She certainly was not German; her hair was the color of the reddest roses, pink posies posed as her lips, two of the finest cut emeralds in the world were her eyes, and her skin, a light shade of peach with light brown freckles, scattered across the bridge of her nose.
She laughed aloud and he was pulled out of his reverie, "Yes, he did ask me to the Winter Dance, but I don't know if I will go with him." WHAT! As if someone had lit his arse on fire, Gregor jerked away from the window, and not being able to position his legs fast enough, tumbled to the ground. His face, his entire body, was alive with smaller insects making his body jerk, practically spasming on the ground as he tried to right himself. The impact of the ground only served to irritate him more. It wasn't until some rather unpleasant thoughts had passed through his mind of what he would do to that boy who dared ask his girl to that dance, Gregor realized that he was not angry. No, no not angry, jealous.