Grendel Remix: A Different Perspective


This is from 11 grade, a few months ago… I did a different perspective for Grendel, which is from the mom’s point of view.

                    What She Wished For

            We were once a happy family. A small family of three, living far away from humans. We led a peaceful life, only minded own business. Trying not to involve ourselves in troubles, we never entered into the humans’ territories. We lived happily in our swamp house in the lake; Grendel, his father, and I. Just us three.  That was 30 years ago, when Grendel was nothing but a tiny little monster. But these memories are all like a dream now; a dream that will never happen again. The tragedy  all started when a hunter spotted us in the wood. We tried to escape back to our place, but that hunter was fast. We couldn’t stay out of his sight, no matter how hard we tried. That was when Grendel’s father, Frendel, decided to distracted him so that Grendel and I could escape home. “You two go home first. I’ll catch up soon,” he told us. But those were the last words we ever heard from him, for Frendel never came home that day.

Ever since that fateful day, Grendel holds a grudge against all humans, and he swore to get revenge. He believed that they were the ones who shattered our family. He pledged to never let any of them live with peace to avenge his father. We hid ourselves in our swamp until Grendel was ready to take them down. The night Grendel left for revenge, I secretly followed because I was worried that he would end up like Frendel. He set off to Herot, where men were deeply asleep, not knowing what awaited them. Grendel snatched up 30 men, smashed them into their bed, broke their bones, and gobbled them down himself. This continued for the next couple of nights. The remaining people were terrified; they tried to sleep as far away from Herot as possible. That night, Grendel was burning with grudge and revenge, so he continued doing the same things everything night for 12 long winters.

Everything was perfectly fine until when Grendel came home one night. He was wretched and miserable. His wound was so severe to the point that I almost couldn’t recognize him. His muscles tore and his bones broke. He was beyond recognition. He came home without arms, without claws and without everything else. He was wounded so seriously that he could do nothing else, but to look at me with his sad eyes. “Mother,” he said with a soft voice, “I’m sorry I couldn’t continue to revenge anymore.” His breathing became uneven as he talked. “I won’t be with you anymore. Sorry.” His voice became fainter and fainter until there was none. Grendel, who I thought would live a long happy life, ended with the same fate as his father. One by one, everyone was leaving my side.

My loved ones were gone. Gone from this world because of these ignorant people. Even when the situations came to this point, this human who called himself Beowulf now dares to stand right in front of my face. He, who murdered Grendel, dares to show his face after what happened to my one and only son. Out of rage anger, I carried him to my swamp house under the lake; with his armors, sword and all. On the way back, other monsters follow after him. But he is mine alone. I won’t let any other monsters take the pleasure of finishing him off. Not after what he did; the pleasure is all mine. Beowulf swings his sword, a steel-edges sword with a ringed-mark blade, to my direction. The blow was barely above my head. I tried to stab him in his chest; if it wasn’t for his mail shirt, he’d be long gone. I attempted many times, but they failed to end his dreadful life. Grendel, my son, I’ll avenge for your death. That was when Beowulf spotted my sword hanging on the wall. A heavy sword hammered by giants, strong, and blessed with their magic. It is my prized sword, my most treasured sword. Even I wouldn’t recklessly dare to use it. He swings that sword directly at me when I was distracted. The final blow hit me hard.

Frendel, Grendel, and I would be together again. Our own happy family of three.  Just us three, again. I smile at the thought of it as the darkness closes in.

Leave a comment