Frankenstein has created a being- something that lives,
breathes, walks, blinks. A monster formed by the stiches of a needle and
thread, and the various parts of bodies scattered near and far across a vast
array of graveyards.
Can it think? It can think enough to tell itself to move its
feet in order to walk, and to blink its eyelids when necessary.
Can it comprehend? It is unable to speak, but its eyes tell a
thousand tales of understanding.
How can one deal with oneself, when one knows that it created
a creature. Can it be called human when it did not derive from a human origin, but
rather parts of said origin? No one can tell because it has never been done
before until now.
Frankenstein knows full well that what he “created”, put
together, gave life to- is no ordinary man. But is it man? Or is it a beast? Or
can it be both, making it a monster with a mind and heart similar to that of a
human?
Whatever it is, Frankenstein suspects that it killed a child.
Strangled his brother to death, in order to retrieve a picture of his late
mother. Murder… that can turn any human being into a monster. But what would
society consider a monster that murdered a human? Perhaps a beast that wants no
discourse of reason for what it did. But what if that beast can’t even
understand what it did?
Can a beast, a monster, and a human be one and the same?
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