Chapter 9

After the intense emotions and rapid events, the complete lack of action and the surety that followed, leaving no room for hope or fear, was unbearable. Justine's death marked a period of profound grief for me. Alive, yet overwhelmed by despair and remorse, I couldn't find peace. Sleep eluded me as I roamed restlessly, haunted by the terrible acts I had committed. Despite starting with intentions full of kindness and a desire to be useful, everything had turned to ashes. The peace of mind I once enjoyed, allowing me to reflect on past actions with satisfaction, was now replaced by guilt and agony, leading me to a personal hell of suffering beyond words.

This mental state took a toll on my health, which hadn't fully recovered from its initial shock. I became a recluse, finding torment in any sign of happiness around me, seeking solace only in solitude. My father noticed the change in me and tried to counsel me, using his own experience of serene conscience as a guide, but his well-meant advice couldn't reach the depths of my despair.

We moved to our home in Belrive, a change I welcomed. The restrictions of Geneva had weighed on me, and at Belrive, I found a certain freedom. Nights spent on the lake offered me a brief escape, though they also brought moments of dark temptation to end my misery in its silent depths. Yet, the thought of leaving my loved ones vulnerable to the monster I unleashed stopped me.

My days were filled with longing for peace, not for my sake, but for those I loved. However, I was consumed by the fear of further atrocities by the creature I created. His potential for more evil acts haunted me, ensuring my fears remained ever present.

Our home turned into a place of mourning. My father, Elizabeth, and I were all enveloped in grief. Elizabeth, once joyful and lively, was now shadowed by sorrow, deeply affected by the recent tragedies. Her perspective on the world and humanity had darkened, reflecting on the injustice and the horror of being misunderstood or wrongly judged.

In my anguish, I felt the heavy burden of being the true cause of all our suffering. Elizabeth's attempts to comfort me only highlighted the profound despair that separated me from the rest of humanity. No words of love or reassurance could penetrate the gloom that surrounded me.

In an attempt to find some solace, I ventured into the Alps, hoping the sublime landscapes would offer a respite from my torment. The journey, filled with reflections on my wretched state and the beauty of nature, brought fleeting moments of relief but ultimately reminded me of my isolation and guilt.

Reaching Chamounix, I was momentarily distracted by memories of happier times, but these were quickly overshadowed by the return of my grief. In this magnificent but indifferent natural setting, I found no lasting peace, only temporary forgetfulness, which sleep eventually brought.