I remember my first time meeting you. You had long red hair and kind eyes, the kind I could get lost in. And, God, I couldn’t stop smiling. You said your name was Mary. Soft freckled face and withered hands. I was so curious, filled with naive wonder. You told me you loved oranges, and I think I started to love them almost as much as I love you. But then things started to change. Burning passion was now a fake plastic sorta love. Y’know I thought I could be different. I thought If i just limited myself and controlled it I’d be okay. Now look at me. It’s starting to hit me that I never really had any control. No. It wasn’t until I was scraping blood off my fingernails that I realized I couldn’t stop, but by then it was too late. I started doing things I never thought myself capable of, vile, monstrous acts. I fell farther… and farther… And then I was all alone, just a pile of shaky limbs and crooked joints. I’ve done a lot of bad things. I am, by no means, a good person. But, Mary, my dear, I promise I’m not a monster.
I wrote this for a class. It's based on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, particularly Mary Reilly and Jekyll's romance.