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Frankenstein : Creative Writing : Frankenstein In Frankenstein

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Frankenstein Creative Writing I had hired a small residence when I first arrived in London. It consisted of only two rooms, the larger which I used as my laboratory and the other my sleeping quarters. With luck— or quite possibly misfortune— Clerval informed me that he would be traveling to a town near the coast of Britain in order to discuss sea-trade with several well-versed merchants. He also informed me that he would be absent from my presence for, at the minimum, three months. I was both relieved and distraught; the time I possessed while Clerval would be gone was more than enough to fulfill my promise to the wretched creature, but it was a task I dreaded dearly. Nevertheless, as soon as he commenced on his quest, I commenced on my own. I began my process, much like I did three years before, by collecting my materials. Soon after, I began forming the fury; the demon. Often, my labors took a mental toll on me just as much as a physical. Many days I awoke and could not bear to enter the laboratory, that wretched inferno of perdition; sickness overcame me and the only reward that came from rising was that soon, the agony could end. As I continued, I felt something in the pit of my stomach, conveying the same message to me continually; this is wrong. But I lacked the blessing of a better alternative and I was in desperate need of the means of an end to the torture. After what felt like years of torment, her form was complete. A storm came to London; one of raging

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