Pretty Sure Nobody Reads My Blog

Since I am pretty sure nobody reads the blog (a bit of sadness) I am going to take this moment and post the outline short story that will be expanded to be included in my new novel Monster U Remember everything is copyrighted all rights reserved by me Katherine Rochholz :)


Frank:

      “What do I know about love and pain? What does anybody know about love and pain? I don’t know the pain of birth, of the start of life. I don’t know the pain of death… I never will. I was created. For parts of people who know the pain of birth, of life, of death. Those that knew love. But I have no soul. The people who once owned my body parts did… they could feel love… but I can not. My ‘father’ created me a hundreds of years ago. His death that night the village found out haunts me to this day. Is that love? I am haunted by his death… All their deaths… By my life… Is that Love?”
      Frank looked at the clock and knew it was time to prepare for the day. He put his journal away; he placed it in his drawer on top of his father’s journals; the ones that had all the notes that caused Frank’s existence. He slammed the door a little hard, and locked the drawer. He looked in the mirror his skin had a light green tint; but it was nothing a bit of make-up could not hide. He had gotten very good at hiding the color of his skin. It took a lot more time to hide his stitching, but he had taken to wear long sleeve shirts and pants no matter the temp; after all he was room temperature. He was dead. With no circulating blood. No soul.
       He didn’t have to hide his bolts to much anymore, thankfully strange and exotic piercings are popular during this time, and most people see them as a piercing. They always asked if his favorite book is Frankenstein. Frank hated that book. It made his father and himself as a monster. Well, that night they were, when they killed his father. He killed the village. Mary Shelly was the only survivor. She wrote their story. He should have killed her. But she was a young child. He couldn’t bring himself to kill the child.
      He looked at the note that Cameron had left for him. Something about picking up milk for some meal he wanted made tonight. Well, Cameron can cook for himself. The boy king got on Frank’s nerves. But, he would be lost with him, Lucas, and Drake. They all met a few hundred years ago. Well, he first met Cameron. He used to be Tutankhamen. Frank had been wondering around Europe looking for a place to live, when he ran in to him. He took pity on the monster and invited him to stay with him. Frank didn’t know what pride was then and jumped at the chance. He barely could speak at the time. However with Cameron’s help he became highly educated.
      Education… their path to living in mainstream America… moving here may not have been the best idea. Many people are too curious about new comers, but on a college campus the majority of people are new, so it was easy to come up with a generic story to tell them about where they were from. Frank looked at himself in the mirror, his green skin now covered, and he was set to go about his day. But he was still upset… as he was every morning… but before he could be buried in his thoughts a thud brought back to life.
      He saw Tony’s truck outside, and remember that Drake had a party last night. Frank found it easy, too easy, to turn a blind side to Drake’s parties. But what do you expect from a soulless creature? Frank stood up and grabbed his books, took one last look in the mirror and left.