Cain, partial chapter 2

Don't read this!! New draft coming soon!!

Cain

Chapter Two: Fear of Paradise

Nauseated and dizzy, my bare feet churned recklessly through the grass, my mind unable to grasp what I’d just done. The northern sky rolled above me, a massive, breathtaking panorama of endless clouds. Gigantic thunderheads roared at each other, titans seemingly rousing at my presence to reach down and crush me.

Eden lay behind me. I ran from paradise. Worse, I ran from my father, now lying unconscious at the gates of that once beautiful garden. I ran from the rock I’d clubbed him with, and I ran from my fear. The fear. That was the one thing I could never seem to escape.

I can never go back.

I knew there would be no home for me in the valley now. It hardly mattered whether or not my family would accept me. My shame was a deep canyon across which I could only see the people in my life, not be with them.. I could never look Mother in the eye again. I would never be able to face Azura, let alone Adam.

Adam would hate me forever.

If he didn’t bleed to death or get devoured by beasts.

I knew I was running from comfort, safety and shelter into an unknown and empty world, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. I had to find out where we’d come from, find Adam and Mother’s parents. I had to prove them wrong and show them up for the liars they surely were.

Maybe I’ll be the one to get devoured by beasts.

Night was falling. Despite the fact that it was light out, the world held that still, shadowy quality that comes just before the darkness begins to grow stronger. The oranges and pinks have all faded back into blue, but I can still see to find my way.

It wasn’t until exhaustion began to set in that I was forced to stop. The night and the storm towered around me, hiding all light and noise. The land here was mostly prairie with the occasional rock formation. The tall, lush grass had been pleasant at first, waving in the gentle wind, but now with the storm picking up, the wind was sending it slapping into my face.

As I slowed to a walk, I began to worry about shelter. Surely it would start to rain soon. Lighting flashed, and I was given a brief glimpse of the area. A low rise of smooth, round boulders lay a hundred yards to the west. I dashed toward them, hopeful. The rain finally managed to free itself from the cloud then, wrenching out in a massive downpour like dirty water being wrung from a washcloth. I was soaked to the bone by the time I reached the rock. I frantically searched the rocks for a place to wait out the storm and finally found a tiny little cave to curl up in on the far face of the rock. It didn’t totally protect me from the wind and rain, but I felt relatively safe from the reach of the titans screaming for me on the winds.

I leaned my head against the wall and sighed, wet hair dripping into my lap. Deeply exhausted from the days events, I could not resist sleep for a second. I didn’t want to dream about the day, but I couldn’t help it.

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Morning of that day.

Sunrise. I wake as it yawns and stretches itself across the sky. It has been three months since my baby sister died. Exactly ninety days. I know because Adam keeps track. There is a dead tree on the northern edge of our valley that died long ago. Adam, as part of his morning ritual, goes out there every morning and carves a notch into it, marking off another day.

Which is basically what every day is, another notch in the tree. The sun returns as boring as the sunset it said goodnight with. I couldn’t help wishing it were already time to put in a notch for tomorrow. As if most days weren’t bad enough, today was my thirteenth birthday, according to Adam. Which meant lots of unwanted fuss for a boy who didn’t deserve a bit of it.

Pressed against a wall of our one room hut, I watch the sky through a tiny whole in the slats, willing myself to be still.

The longer I can pretend to sleep, the longer till the day starts.

Normally I would be woken up at sunrise, but not today. Not on my birthday. I took one last eyeful of the morning sky and tried to settle in and fall back asleep again. I was just beginning to drift back into the dream worlds beyond my eyelids when a gentle tap awoke me. Jumping up with a start, I nearly yelled, but one of Adam’s strong, hands, smelling of dirt and sawdust, clamped over it slowly and softly.

“Shhhh.” He whispered. “Come outside with me.”

Irritable, I followed him, stepping over my snoring siblings.

When we stood outside, about ten feet off from the house, he told me why he’d drug me from bed. “I wanted to show you something today, Cain. Something for your birthday. Until now, you and your siblings have only heard about the Garden of Eden in stories, but today, I’m going to take you there.”