Metamorphosis

Author's Note: This response to Jekyll and Hyde is a short story and was inspired by Jekyll's transformations into Hyde and also a question that I had throughout the story: if there is this evil within Jekyll, how did it get there? Obviously, we aren't born evil, but somehow we end up with all of these evil people in the world. This response is basically addressing how we obtain these bad sides of ourselves and what the transformation can do to us.

Life begins so peacefully. With their miniature hands and feet, and skin that has never seen the harsh rays of the sun, it is clear that babies are born pure, innocent, and untainted--blissfully unaware of the trials and hardships to come. Young children are like sponges; they soak up anything and everything that they can. They are not taught to lie, and they are not taught to hit other children, yet somehow when I was a toddler I would lie to my parents about whether or not I broke something, and I when was frustrated with another kid I would give them a shove--sure, these things do not really seem like big issues, but they are the beginning of a transformation, a metamorphosis if you will.

As I grew up, I always had a tendency to rebel. I shoplifted once or twice, and I had locked my younger sister in the basement overnight when we were younger, but I had no remorse for these things--in fact, I liked them. I felt a rush everytime I did something like it, I could feel the darkness wash over my body with every bad action. But now, now I can't bear it. It envelopes me, it follows me, and it haunts me every day so much that I can't help but scream. My shrieks pierce the brisk night air and send ripples through the lake that I stand in front of. The cries are soon muffled by the water, the water that I have now submerged myself in. I feel my lungs gasping for air, but I don't allow myself to reach the surface. I can feel life draining from my body as my sight goes black. I am free, and I am finally peaceful again.