I had brought an armful of wildflowers and I placed these on her grave, then fell to my knees weeping. I begged her forgiveness. “I am so sorry, my beloved,” I cried. “God had tested me greatly, but I failed and I ruined my path to you. Perhaps someday I will be able to cleanse my soul enough where the path will once more be opened to me.”
It was hours before I had the strength to leave Johanna’s grave. As I stole though the city a sight stopped me in my tracks. Staring at me through a bookstore window was my enemy’s name. Frankenstein! I had to retrieve this book, and I broke into this store to do so, and also took several books that would explain to me how greatly the world had changed since my exile.
After leaving the store, I found a lighted place where I could read in solitude, and my hands trembled as I read the lies that Frankenstein recounted to Captain Walton during his last remaining months aboard the icebound ship. I understood the reason for this; my enemy knew he was dying and he sought to protect his reputation, regardless of how soiled it truly was. But he also sought with these lies to injure me. He must have had that motive given the crimes that he attributed to me, the only one of which I was guilty being the murder of his innocent bride. Captain Walton for the most part accurately recounted my words to him, but he misunderstood my reason for them, and he greatly embellished what I had said. Maybe in his fear he believed we had had this more dramatic conversation as was recounted in the book. Perhaps Frankenstein’s lies were so deeply embedded within his mind that he could not imagine the conversation being anything other than what he wrote.
As I read this book to completion I marveled at Frankenstein’s cunning and deception, even during his last moments. If I were to believe Walton’s words, which I have no reason not to, then Frankenstein even went as far as to forge letters from an imaginary Felix and Safie to support his outrageous story! And he must have done this before I had sent him chasing after me!
I threw the book in the gutter after finishing it, and as I began my travel back to my remote home, I realized I needed to tell the true story of Frankenstein to counter his lies. I turned back to the center of Leipzig to steal steal paper and writing instruments, and then began my long journey back to my cabin.
During my travel I forced myself to remember all of it. Most of it I had long forgotten or tried to forget, but as I concentrated to recall these events they crystallized in my mind as if they had only just happened, and I was amazed and sickened. I had gone through what no man could have ever imagined, and while at times I had saved the lives of innocents, I had also committed grave evil. I did not blame myself for the helpful push that had sent the devil worshippers and Frankenstein’s guests to their deaths, but there was no justification for my murder of Elizabeth, nor of how I had allowed my obsession with vengeance to twist me into the same abomination as Frankenstein.
When I returned to my cabin, I took pen to paper with every intention of exposing the truth, even if it exposed myself in the process. I believe my crimes are severe enough to keep me forever from Johanna, but perhaps one day I will be judged differently. At least I can pray that God will take pity on me and my failings.