When he was younger, he used to swear to his parents that he would be the greatest inventor the world had ever seen. Everyone would know his name, and his works would be in every house. His family thought it was hilarious. He was but a child. What did he know of the real world?

His first invention was a small mechanical spider. Genevieve.

She didn’t do much. She couldn’t walk. She couldn’t blink. She wasn’t alive. Her legs twitched according to the whims of his hands.

But she wasn’t enough. Genevieve was only the beginning and he knew it.

His siblings laughed as they broke her, leaving him to pick up her warped remains.

It wasn’t over.

Griselda was his second spider. She could shuffle herself along the table.

Smashed by his older sister.

Then it was Guinevere.  She blinked, revealing small glowing red eyes.

Thrown under a train by his father.

Gabriela was bigger, the size of his fist as opposed to a coin. She scurried across the floor.

Thrown out the window by his mother. She had, at least, apologized.

Genette, dismantled by his brother.

Georgina, destroyed by his sister’s boyfriend.

Ginerva, being the size of a dinner plate did not spare her from the jaws of the trash compactor.

Graciela was different. He ran with her, refusing to let them destroy another of his creations.

The day he ran, he found a door that had never been seen before. An old heavy door of oak, surrounded by rubbish. Without thinking, he opened it and bolted inside. Graciela was lost under its weight.

No one ever came looking for him, the door sealing itself after his entry.