Only the lonely

The pangs of loneliness had taken its toll, and every creature seemed to mock his existence, it reminded him of that faithless day of him coming into existence.
His mind swayed in great considerable difficulty as flash backs of his original era of being. All the events of that period appear confused and indistinct. A strange multiplicity of sensations seized him, and he was thrown into anguish of senses colliding. Sight, touch, sound, and scent, all at the same time devoured his mind.1

The sun’s rays strangely seemed blinding to him and made him obliged to close his eyes for a while, the intense heat started to weary his aged animated corpse down and he took a rest beside a brook; quenching his thirst then sliding into a dormant state.
Awakening to an abundance of isolation he felt something in his throat, as if he had works in him like a clock, and was going to strike. Smeared his ragged rough hands over his eyes, pitying his desolation, and watching at his endless cryptic misery at being in such a desolated state, he gave vent of its anguish in a fearful howl. Like a wild beast that had broken the toils trying to destroy the objects which had obstructed it.2

The pleasant sunshine, and the pure air of day, restored him to some degree of tranquility. “Oh to Hades, judge not my soul for I am innocent of my toll.” He whispered to the wind as he recovered from his slumber. “Lonely I stand with out family or friend, with out comforter or redeemer to comfort my last moment at this bitter end. What crime am I guilty of, being neither aner nor bestia, I stand trapped between two ungodly shores, which bank am I to take abode?”3

“Who am I? A nameless creature created in a laboratory buy a vain scientist, who misunderstood me before I understood him.
“I am no fiend! Despite my demonic act, I am no monster contrary be the fact.
I have taken the life of an innocent child, snatching him from his father’s love, ending his joy by unleashing grand misery upon his kith and kin.
All I wanted was to partake in the joyous activities like every being, the birds sing songs to comfort each other, and all creatures have their young ones to love, while I am left alone to wonder in pain.
Never I the love of neither father nor child to bestow upon my heart, to comprehend the pain and anguish of such a lost, I am an innocent criminal guilty of no crime of mine.4

“Little acknowledgement is made of the little life I saved from destruction and eternal sleep; if not for me, the swift current would surely had carried her away.
Alas! The recompense of my benevolence was that of a painful ball shattering my flesh and bones. What feelings of kindness and gentleness could I entertain for mankind? The agony of my wounds overcame me, and I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance for them, the monstrous kind they be; ignorant, unkind, and ungrateful. Oh the burden I was to bear how treacherous was I to imitate the hate of them."5

“Friendless fiend I’ve spent my life! What had Henry Clerval done to deserve my fiendish abhorred? Nothing is he guilty of, but being the friend of my worst enemy; Frankenstein, Oh, Victor Frankenstein you malicious vain scientist. In your vanity you unleashed an abhorred devil.”
“Oh treachery! The scientist went back on his word. Eating his vomit like a cow chews its cud. Filling me with high hopes and then breaking me down. Why should I be left to dwell this harsh earth in lonesome loathsome solitude. Do I not deserve the comfort of a lover; one my own kind who will allow my intrusive invasion and loathe me not; One with whom my body can rest at a days end and find fulfillment in her delicate and succulent celestial being. One with whom I can feel inordinate and elated while we abode in peace and tranquility far away from all humankind. Did I not deserve an Arabian like Felix had Safie.
Naysayer be he, dooming me to misery while he joints union. My blood imploded with anger at the fact of him having found a mate while I was to tread alone. I felt neither remorse for him nor his innocent bride.6

Tears trickled down his cheeks with grand horror of his memory. Despite his fiendish acts his heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy; and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred it did not endure the violence of the change without tone such as you cannot even imagine. Memories lingered of his most hate day he’d ever seen; and he tried to procure the sympathy of the wind.7

“Standing by his stiffen corpse,” said he “I felt the warmth of love, I hated myself for what I had become and done to him and his entire entourage of love ones. I the servant had caused my master the greatest of pain, and the sight of him made me feel the greatest anguish of my existence. Now I’m to meet my end.”8

The last of the pile had been set a lit, cumulating a grander of fire upon the pyre. Thoughts flicker through the aged creature’s mind. Its translucent skin decked with yellow watery eyes and black lips were essence of his once stature seemed calm, but yet never the less loathsome. The sun shone on the red leaves that strewed the ground, and diffused cheerfulness, although it denied warmth. Alas! The flames consumed the beast and the wind blew forevermore.