Although Frankenstein's monster gained all the coverage, the true terror is smaller. More basic. It's the stuff three weeks ago you overlooked in the Tupperware at the back of the fridge. The leftovers that have gained consciousness. The science experiment you did not intend to run.
Opening the box, she instantly regretted every decision that brought about this moment. Alive. Not metaphorically. When the inanimate turns animated. When the natural order is broken and you have the evidence.
It's also what you say in awe, though. The ultrasound imaging the heart beat. The seed you planted breaking actual ground. Sourdough starter simmering on the counter like it has opinions. The instant you understand you built something with its own momentum, its own life independent of you.
It's alive implies you are no longer in control of it. Not able to anticipate it.
She locks the container.
Throws it away unopened again.