The cave was dark and humid, smelling awful and suffocating me. The statues remained still, in the same places, moss continuing to track down their unsuspecting, lifted arms. Everything repeated again, every day. Everything except him. A man with a mirrored shield, flying sandals, and an invisible helmet. A man who was protected by goddesses. A man who would proudly lift the name of “hero” while holding my dead head as a sign of victory. I got punished for my actions, for my selfishness, for my imprudence against the god of the marine world. Poseidon admired my beauty, so Athena cursed me with it in mind, bringing an ugliness from within that overturned even my face. I was forced to live hidden, and I was compelled to frighten and freeze those who intended to face me. My only company was the bugs coming out of dark holes, the snake vines that I wore in my crown, and the sad statues of brave warriors who faced something worse than death with the first look at my monstrous face. I couldn’t say I felt bad for them. I want to live, I don’t deserve death, I don’t want death. I’ve had to face it all at some point. The gods brought misfortune over me, but not over my sisters. They could enjoy an eternity of happiness, power, and pleasure without Hades and Athena on their neck, counting until the last second for their blood to be shed over the hand of a young man. My sisters were ugly, but they would not be murdered as I was destined to be. They could come and go as they pleased, occasionally visiting and making me somewhat less alone for a brief while. I knew someone would eventually succeed in carrying out this task of killing me, for while there were those who failed and perished — becoming stone statues — someone had to succeed. The hero would succeed; this young man would succeed. My fears violently moved as soon as I noticed the boy standing behind me with a sharp sword aiming directly at my neck. And yet, something like relief stirred as well. I wondered, in the dark. My two sisters laid on the floor, having one of their blissful naps. They looked so calm, so peaceful. They knew that nothing wrong could ever happen to them; they were terrifying, after all, but not threats. Two beasts in a cave, and one beautiful, cursed lady. My face was the only thing remaining of who I was once, yet it had none of its previous worth. In this state, no one saw me; no one wanted to see me. They all feared me, or wanted me dead. The boy was standing behind me, ready to end my excruciating existence. The invisible helmet, the flying sandals, the shield, they were all gifts from gods who yearned for my death. I was forced to fade from this world; clearly nobody wanted me in it for any longer. Something kept me, maybe a small light of hope in all this darkness I live in, or my sisters sleeping on the earth behind me. I was not able to react to the hero’s movements. He was guided by the wisest of them all, and protected by the strongest, too. I could feel his sword passing through my mortal, monstrous neck. I could see his ambitions. He feared something, someone. The moment he entered, the shadow of gods’ judgement remained over him, stifling my cave and making his thoughts even clear to myself. He wanted my power to protect what was precious to him, while I was not capable of protecting anyone. He was worth my head. Perhaps, one day, he would be worth the name of a hero.