Frankenstein Adaptation - Opening Chapter
Essay by review • April 25, 2011 • Essay • 835 Words (4 Pages) • 1,208 Views
English Extension 1
Preliminary Exams
Draft- Creative Task
2006
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Frankenstein Adaptation- Opening Chapter
As I looked over the menacing cliff which manifested over the north Atlantic Ocean and into the extruding rocks which defined the area of the water below, I could think of nothing but of lost lives and death on my part. My link with the current world was a pain, of such sincerity and austerity that death was my only key to open the doors of hope. As the southerly wind grew in intensity, so did the splashing of falling rocks below. It overcame my thoughts; my body was covered from head to toe in a translucent blood, visible only to the realities which defined my world. It was a burden which was of oblivion to the changing nature around. I remained prosaic and static while the world in which I had created continued to move on and advance. Was it my fault that I had led the world into a brink of change or was it my actions which defined the worlds changing nature for the good of man kind. I had no answer- My life was unliveable. I jumped, not in cry for attention, but to save myself from my own mental turbulence.
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I am as of my mother's side French. French in the way I think, English in the way that I perceive. My father.....a man embarrassed by my existence, lives with no consideration of my life or what I lead. He is ostentatious in the false persona which he pervades, thinking not of for good of people but for the good of himself. My mother, a disappointment, lives a life which characterises that of the typical junkies and dropouts; utilising little of her acute intellect and entrepreneur attitude, instead to one of idiocy and ridicule. While I grew up under the guidance of little to no one; I made my life what it was due to my own motivation to learn and become educated.
Life did not begin until I was at least twenty- four; I had lived my life until now with no understanding of the outside world other than that of my home city- Lyon. I did not understand the meaning of why I was here and I never, as a child living in near poverty, had anyone to ask.
It was picturesque; the luminous red sunset had transposed incandescently, images against the clouds which filled the town with a dark sinister atmosphere which had not been seen since the winter 1973. This provoked a sense of beauty and grandeur magnificence which I had never experienced. The sun began to slowly set behind the glistening snow covered peaks of the Alps and darkness fell. The black of night had never been this mysterious and little did I know that it would never rise again; my nightmare had come live.
My subconscious pervaded a sense of malevolence which I was
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