Beastly — Alex Flinn

I AM A BEAST.

A beast. Not quite wolf or bear, gorilla or dog but a horrible new creature who walks upright … a creature with fangs and claws and hair springing from every pore. I am a monster. You thing I'm talking fairy tales? No way. The place is New York City. The time is now. It's no deformity, no disease. And I'll stay this way forever … ruined … unless I can break the spell.

Yes, the spell, the one the witch in my English class cast on me. Why did she turn me into a beast who hides by day and prowls by night? I'll tell you. I'll tell you how I used to be Kyle Kingsbury, the guy you wished you were, with money, perfect looks, and the perfect life. And then, I'll tell you how I became perfectly … beastly.

I lived in darkness now. I started sleeping during the day, walking the streets and riding the subways at night, when no one could really see me. I knew now what it was to be desperate. I knew what it was to skulk in darkness, looking for some little bit of hope and finding nothing. I know what it was to be so lonely you could kill from it.

I wished I had an opera house. I wished I had a cathedral. I wished I could climb to the top of the Empire State Building like King Kong. Instead, I had only the anonymous streets of New York with their millions of stupid, clueless people ... I scared me.