Creative Writing: Grete's Metamorphosis

After supper, Grete made her way to her room to fetch her aged violin. As she made her way back to the kitchen she was constrained by the thought of her brother; he who had been living in what was now a storage room for unused furniture. She could not help but experience the same feelings of grief and numbness one would normally experience after someone’s death. “But was Gregor really gone?”, she asked herself, trying to determine whether or not to consider the bug her brother. She thought back to the interactions that she had had with Gregor proceeding his metamorphosis. It was evidential to her that Gregor was no longer with them. “Gregor was a motionless, crippled bug that was no more than their household pest”, Grete thought as she looked …show more content…
Gregor had risen from his habitat. All eyes were lodged on him as he slowly worked his way towards Grete. “How dare he interrupt me”, murmured Grete. The lodgers, who were much entertained by Gregors presence, began smiling at each other. Grete’s father seemed to think it was more important to calm the three gentlemen before driving Gregor out, even though they were not at all upset and seemed to think Gregor was more entertaining than the violin playing had been; this angered Grete. Without a second thought, Grete’s father surged up to the lodgers with his arms spread wide as he drove the gentlemen back into their room. It was clear to Grete that the lodgers were becoming annoyed on their own terms after they realised they had had a neighbour like Gregor in the next room. Grete could hear them demand her father for explanations as they raised their arms like he had, slowly making their way into their room. Grete, who was in complete shock by this ordeal, had overcome the despair she had fallen into when her playing was suddenly interrupted. Grete had let her hands drop, violin and bow hang flaccidly, yet she abruptly got ahold of herself, placed the violin on her mother's lap, and ran into the next room which, under pressure from her father, the three men of their word were all the more rapidly moving to. Quickly, Grete snatched the cushions and covers off the beds, placing them in order, slipping ceaselessly again before the three refined men could reach their