What Happened To Mary Shelley's Frankenstein?

A lone candle burns into the senseless night. Its wax trickling down its side. I stare at the clock and it is barely half past nine, yet time seems to stand still. I stare at the window and investigate the nasty mesmerizing blizzard falling outside my window. I could not grasp anything other than the snow. All I can do is moan as each passing second this bloody snow lingers and destroys my vision of a perfect Christmas, in which Santa would come and visit me in my sleep. At the time I was only four but I treasured Christmas and the snow surrounding it. Little did I know the damage that it would entail into my life.

“We received no food. We lived in snow; it took the place of bread. The days resembled the nights, and the nights left in our souls the dregs of their darkness. The train rolled slowly, often halted for a few hours, and continued. It never stopped snowing. We remained lying on the floor for days and nights, one on top of the other, never uttering a word. We were nothing but frozen

Straight ahead she hears cries and screams from a woman coming from a creek bed. Not only did it grab her attention, it also caught the attention of the hunters.

second, Smokey lives in the forest with the other snowflakes and snow is everywhere there. More snowflake lives there to. She has a lot of friends. Their names are blue, chris and red. They played dice and baked cookies that are shaped like stars.

She was eight years old, and it barely began getting crispy outside. Winter was right around the corner. She loved winter, the cold weather always made her all lubricous. Her favorite part of winter was eating cold food and wrapping herself around him while he was cold. She always thought cold items and food were the best in cold weather and having the air in front of her while it was cold just made it so fun. Unfortunately she wasn’t enjoying this upcoming winter without him.

“ Thanks for telling us that story about your childhood last night, Mr. Morrison. I really enjoyed it.” Cassie uttered as if she wasn’t suppose to utter anything. Miz. Logan must of heard her because she looked up and gave her a face that looked like go somewhere else, but i don’t think Cassie ever saw it cause she never left the room.

As she put her foot on the saddle Andrea felt the freshly made saddle with the smoothest leather she has felt since her mom had a horse.When she got on the horse she lost her balance a little “whoa!” “calm down! Nothing is going to happen.’Andrea and her dad start to get on the path where they usually walk in.”It’s starting to get dark we should head back because I don’t want puma’s or snakes following us.” they got back and then heard rustling in the grass. “Ah must be the wind.”

The rain seemed neverending. Soaking the ground until it could not bear anymore. Turning the ground into a brown sticky paste that attached itself onto anything it touched. In the distance, a thin hooded figure could be seen struggling to move towards a decrepit shack with a pack on its back. No one should be out during the winter storms… The wind howls and gusts powerfully, blowing back the hood of the shrouded figure. She’s an elf. Her face was as pale as the snow on the mountains; eyes as green as emeralds, with hair as black as night. Through all her beauty, you could tell that she was in pain. With every step she took, she clutched her side. A long, barbed arrow protruded from her abdomen. Blood stained her mud coated clothing. She tries to take one more step towards the shack but fails and collapses face down in the mud… Her breath

All the clothes they had came from looting the stores after the weak had died off from the cold. Jack couldn’t wait for the warmth of the fire to cover him and heat up his chilling body. Now Jack could make out the silhouette of his partner Madison. He was almost there. The stag suddenly felt heavier. The sun was starting to go down. He needed to speed up. The silhouette of his partner got closer, and more vivid and detailed. The weight of the stag was getting too much to bear. He dropped the stag and fell to the ground. The snow caked his exposed face and legs from the ripped jeans and he could already feel minor effects of the frostbite on his leg, chewing away at the skin. The wind howled and danced with the snow making mini snow tornadoes on the top of the layer of snow. Jack was ready to die and fully expecting it at this

She trotted out into the splintering cold. It was so cold. It was freezing. Morgan could feel her legs rubbing against her thick, double layered jeans. It felt like if she continued walking any farther, she would rub her legs raw. She could see her breath as she exhaled in the chilling air. She could smell the crisp snow outside, and could feel the sting of the wind on her nose. And oh that wind, it was like a whip that never stopped lashing. Every time it stopped, you got a slight, fleeing sense of relief but it was never quite satisfying because you just know another killer ice-cold gust is

Through squinting eyelashes, on which icicles formed by now, I watch as the cold is catching up with everyone I love. Peter’s body enslaved by the cold as his whole body trembles while his teeth chatter with a thrumming sound. My mom cups his tiny hands between her palms, and rubs them while blowing her warm breath on it. “Mommy I’m…..co..ld,” he winces. “Oh baby here..” My mother removes her shawl and wraps it tightly around Peter's

I would never let anything bad happen to you,” She smiled, glancing over at me. We pulled onto the highway and I put my earphone back in. I looked back out the window, admiring how the scenery looked with all of the snow falling. It was as if we were in a snow dreamland. Everything was still and untouched, unlike how it was in my neighborhood. The snow in my neighborhood was scattered and disrupted by small children who ran around. Their sleds left tracks in my yard, ruining the wonderland. The car swerved to the right, towards the wonderland. My whole body shook as I sat up quickly. I looked at my grandma, confused as to what

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.

Here, the narrator claims that it is snowing during a scene of intense emotion and sudden abandonment following a sudden arrival. When the narrator later recounts the memory to her mother, though, her mother sighs and says, “‘Trust you to add snow’” (Smith 48), thus illustrating the fact that the narrator takes mundane memories and adds her own spin to them in an effort to make them more symbolic. In this way, she creates her own myth by creating symbolism, and she uses the passage of time to do so.

We thanked her and pulled on our coats and mittens. I grabbed my white chocolate mocha before heading out into the thick snow. Karina and Alan argued over who was going to drive through the storm on the way home and eventually Alan conceded. As he scraped snow off the car, Karina jokingly warned me that it was going to be a rough trip home. I figured she was just exaggerating since she loved to make fun of Alan. Then, Alan hopped in and insisted Karina played Christmas music.