The Giant and the Beanstalk

Long time ago... There lived a giant. Up in the clouds, high in the sky.

He was rather lonely, the giant. He had many treasures that many thought were worth much. All gold and silver and gemstones.

But he was still lonely. Gold did not take away his loneliness. Helped pay taxes? Yes, but cannot make  true friends with gold.

He had only two things he valued among his treasure. One was a hen who laid golden eggs. The other was a golden harp, that sang with a voice to rival Vernalia's. He spoke to them often. Spoke of his troubles, sorrows. Spoke of what few joys he had. They were his friends, however odd it was, and he cherished them very much. He did not know if they cherished him back, but for now, it would do.

Then, one day, a boy came up on a beanstalk. The giant wasn't quite sure how to greet him, but he invited the boy to breakfast. The boy was very afraid, though, and only accepted in fear of being flattened between his molars, which the giant never considered. Once his back was turned, the boy stole his gold and left. He paid no mind to it, at first.

Then the boy came back. Agreed again. Stole again. And again and again and again, til there was little left but the hen and the harp. And the giant was content, for as long as he had them, he could simply earn the gold again. Their company was worth more than his treasure hoard.

And then again, the boy came. And this time, he swiped away the hen, swiped away the harp. The giant was heartbroken at first, before anger overtook him. He chased the boy down the stalk, trying to get his only friends back. But he tripped and fell, the boy getting away with hen and harp, while he was left in the ground with a bump on his head.

 They spin this tale as an angry giant cut down by a boy and his mother, a giant who would have loved to grind his bone into bread. The boy became rich, while the giant was dead. In truth, the boy still became rich, and the giant lived alone in his house, poorer in both money and soul. And shut off from the world, he would become, as what good is a world where his only friends were stolen away from him?

 I think back to this tale. To where the hatred started.

And I wonder...

 When will I break, and become the monster they say I am?

 I dread to think about it... even now.