Purvi Patel NEHS Essay October 15, 2015 Beowulf Narrative- Grendel’s mother’s perspective: I could smell him slowly approaching. The stench of Beowulf danced its way up to my nose. I could hear his rapid heartbeat getting faster the closer he got. The oh so famous Lord and Protector took my pride and joy, my precious son away from me. How dare he, how dare he take away the water demon’s heir. I sense his presence, I turn and there is the cold-blooded murderer himself. The thought of revenge spiraled through my mind. The “Great Beowulf” struggling to catch his last breath in my claws gave me joy, it filled my heart with happiness, it was music to my ears. Just thinking about it made me want to finish the deed faster. I want to hear him cry in pain like my poor Grendel, my poor poor Grendel. He was attacked and his life was taken away from him. My emotions were ready to burst; “just attack” my mind told me. I wrapped my talons around his tiny body and tried to press my nails into the ring woven armor. My brain was beginning to fluster, curiosity was flowing through my veins. He seems to be in no pain, impossible! I need to take him to my sanctuary, a place where my fighting will be at its peak! I held onto Beowulf with all the strength I could muster, my nails continuously trying to claw through the impenetrable armor. I could see the small puffs of air forming from his mouth, almost as if it was his last breathe. But, the armor still would not break, why can’t I just rip it off this horrendous man’s body? My mind felt as if it was a never ending rope of unfocused thoughts, trying to grasp on everything that was suddenly happening. I need to focus, stay focused! Struggling, he tried to set himself free. Stupid fool, he thinks he could flee me. A wild laugh escapes from my stomach. Why do my hands feel so empty? I glance down and Beowulf
has broken out of my grip, but how could I let him escape? Here and there, I watched him getting stabbed by my sea monsters, the excitement dispersed from my body. His sinful eyes began to search around the room looking for a way to break free. Where could he possibly think he could go? Pride running through my veins, I stood there watching the red-hot flames burning around him. The flames were like venomous tongues trying to strike at him like a snake. Hell was ready to capture him and feed off his innocent soul. Enraged with anger, I ripped, tore, and clawed at him, trying to hurt him with every part of me. The “mighty� Beowulf laid there, helpless. I squatted all my weight down on him, adrenaline rushing through me, I could hear my heart pounding through my ears. I struck out a dagger, brown with dried blood, I prepared myself to avenge my Grendel. I showed him what I was capable of. With just one strike, just one, I could proudly end him with my blood drenched claws. In an instant, I almost had the most courageous and passionate warrior down. Almost, the dagger refused to go through the woven armor. All of the sudden I was pushed back by a significant amount of force. How can one just get up? Where did he get the power and courage to stand up and fight again? He had deceived me! He had tricked me the entire time! How did someone like me, fall for such a silly joke? My head feels like it is being stabbed by a blazing hot sword. Slowly melting away my bravery and the little bit of dignity I have left. I see Beowulf standing up and spotting the only weapon that is able to take my life. A heavy sword, hammered by the giants, strong and cursed with their magic. A weapon so great that no ordinary man is able to lift it. But Beowulf surprisingly lifted it! Even the strongest of men from faraway lands, the bravest of them all, the ones who have dared to enter the underworld have not been able to lift the sword.
No! Please, no stop! Do not come any closer. Why isn’t he listening? Why won’t he stop coming towards me? Beowulf looks like a hungry tiger, ready to approach its prey. I need to calm down. I need to breathe, and think about what is going to happen. Has my time finally come? Is this it? For a split second I quickly looked around, the flames were jumping everywhere like the floor was made to dance on. The sea monsters growled at each other as if they were speaking in their own language. Everything was taken care of in the underworld, but the death of the protector of men, Beowulf. I look up and I see Beowulf with the sword raised above him…