Grendel's Story:
Beowolf retold from Grendel's point of view


{This was one of the many papers that I wrote in My senior english class}

          It started at the beginning of time, when Cain killed Abel. The curse was given to all descendants of Cain. Generations of hate and ignorance passed down to me. Although that is not the only reason I feel this pain, it is the major reason that people cast me out.
          While growing up I was always alone. I tried to make friends with the other creatures that were like me, but none of them seemed to want to be my friend. They were too busy doing their job. I tried everything I could think of, but anything I tried just seemed to leave me feeling empty and lonely. All I really wanted was a friend. I was tired of being alone.
          One day I heard about a creature called man. I thought maybe they were creatures that I could befriend. I tried for several months to become friends with them. I would try to be nice but they didn’t seem to notice. They were too busy being afraid, misunderstanding my attempts at friendship. They didn’t know that I was no threat to them. I was just trying to be their friend.
          Every time I met one of them they would run or pull their sword out and start swinging at me. Every day I went out to try to become their friend. I tried for months to befriend them. But they didn’t want to be my friend. Their actions eventually filled me with a pain boiling in my stomach. It felt like someone had struck my heart with a sword. I went home and cried for an hour.
          While I was laying on my bed soaked with tears, a thought crept into my head. Slowly the pain was turning into anger. I wanted to get revenge on them and make them feel sorry for hurting me. But I knew that I was too gentle to actually hurt someone. The next day I left my home and went toward one of them to try once more to befriend him. I walked up to him and introduced myself. He drew his sword. At first it startled me, the sword looked much stronger than it really was. When he struck me, rather than inflicting pain, it just made me angry. I grabbed his sword, broke it, and threw it away. Then I picked him up tore his limbs off and ate him.
          Guilt crept into my mind. I had never done anything like that before. I let my anger take control. I’d always been a gentle monster. I felt such guilt and shame that I couldn’t stand it anymore. So I ran home and beat my head on the wall.
          That night I started to think. I actually got a little pleasure from killing the man. I began to want to do it again, so I did. I went out and found another man and killed him. I began to do this every night. It became a habit to kill. Guilt left me, I became numb to it.
          One night while out searching for prey. I stumbled upon a great palace. I knew that where there was a palace there were men. So I decided to search through the palace to find some flesh to eat. When I saw the men I became happy. I ran in and killed and ate them. I took 30 men that night. I enjoyed it and wanted more.
          Every night I went back to this palace to feast upon any men that were there. The first few nights a lot of people were there. I ate them. But after a week the number of people diminished. They set up guards, but I just ate the guards. The palace became empty. They left because they were scared of me.
          One night while I was thinking about how great I was and how permanent my victory, I heard some men talking. They were talking about some hero coming to save them from their oppression. I wondered who they were and what oppression they needed to be delivered from.
          That night I decided to go back to the palace again. I hadn’t been there in a couple of days and it was about time for me to go back. When I entered the palace and saw all the men, my heart skipped for joy. I wanted to eat them all, because I was really hungry.
          I went over to the first man and ripped him apart and ate him just as I’d done every time I visited the palace. As I went over to the second man I felt something grab me. I struggled to get free. I looked around and saw that it was only a man. I immediately expected to be able to break free from his grasp. I couldn’t, because he was too strong. He grabbed my arm and bent it, then started to hit me. I struggled and I fought. I slammed him into the wall only to get slammed into the other wall. I tried with everything that was in me to beat him. I never had lost a fight and was expecting to win. Just like when I beat all of the other men that I fought.
          I began to feel afraid. I realized that I was going to lose and be defeated. I began to wish that I could just go back home and hide. To crawl off into safety was the only thing that I wanted to do. I began to experience a new feeling, I felt pain unlike any I’d ever known. I wanted things to return to the way they were before.
         &nbsIn the end I was defeated. I lost my arm and was covered with gashes, bruises, and blood. I lost my life. It was drained by someone called Beowulf. A so-called hero who came from a far away land to face me.
          I crawled back to my home. I sat there waiting for death to sweep me up. My thoughts traveled back to the first time I killed. I remembered the whole reason that I killed. I knew that I had made a mistake and wished that I would have come to my senses sooner. I sat there until death came and took me into hell, where I belong.

Written by:
Jonathan Johnston


Back