by ThunderAngel

"Upon a cold November's night I awoke to the horror of a man with regret in his eyes. Driven by forbidden passion and abandoned by the same, he cast me off as a filthy garment. Who was he but my creator, who should have taken me and taught me to be human? What was I but the loathsome demon that haunted his every thought? O, that I might have gazed upon his pale gaunt face and perished with it my only memory.

Tis' a strange thing to be the dream that delighted, and the reality that horrified. The love of his heart became the drear reflection thereof of who he really was. Yet, I could not fathom it. I reached out to him and he recoiled in shock. He ran from his own son, the creature he had formed, and cast me unto the night. I,... but a babe... had no knowledge that would prepare me for this rejection. The cold and bitter rain mingled with the hurt of freshly animated limbs, only to add more tears to my plight. I was alone.

Innocence resided in a hideous form during those days and nights. The birds and crickets kept me company, speaking in fathomless dialects that were pleasant to my heart. They were the only family I ever knew. For, the race that bred my creator turned out to be just as cruel as he. None would have me. None would console me. I was different, and everyone knows that uniqueness is a sin. But, why must I be condemned to isolation for the selfishness of a man? Should he not be condemned with me? Yea, I know that he would be if the world knew his terrible secret. But, for what would the world condemn him for? Would they cast him out for my sake,... or for practicing forbidden science? They would most certainly destroy him for his work, but not the work of his hands. They care not for me to grant me such dignity and respect.

I hate him! Who is he to play God,... to create and then condemn? I am his son. I bear not the image of his form, I bear the image of his heart. Beautiful is the flesh that fashioned me, but wretched is it's soul! I am become the very manifestation of his hidden ugliness! His vile desire to mock the Divine has ended me in tragedy. I have no hope for love in this world. I am not even a shadow that I may touch the feet of men. I am loneliness, given it's form. Cut off and isolated from humankind, I roam the wilderness... never to know the joy of embrace, nor the tender affection of a kiss. A serpent's bite is more welcome than I, the strike of a cobra far more accepted. Behold,... this is my lot. I will never be human. But, perhaps this is a blessing. For the rejected is more noble than they who reject.

I long for the murder that might have been,... to be strangled and extinguished at the hands of him who made me. That I would never had known this horrible sorrow, I would have graciously given back the breath he instilled, only to die in innocence. But, he added tormenting affliction to the wound he created when he did not take my wretched life from me. O God, must men be so cruel?

I may hate what I am, but my conscience is free. My creator suffers a far worse fate. He lives in silence of what he has done, no one will ever rescue him from his self-made Hell. Tis' the price of arrogancy. And, if there is any solace in my existence it is to know that when he looked within my half dead eyes on that cold November's night he saw...... himself."

 

A father's arrogance always produces ruined children. Children who become the monsters that their fathers create. It's a tragic legacy that continues to this very day. Only God can heal such wounds.

by ThunderAngel

BACK