Chapter 15

"That's the story of my cottage family. It really hit me hard. I started to appreciate their good qualities and see how messed up people could be. "So far, I thought crime was something way off, but kindness and generosity were all around me.

They made me want to be part of their lives, where so many awesome things happened. But when I'm telling you about how my brain was developing, I gotta tell you about something that happened at the start of August that year.

"One night, when I was out gathering food and firewood for my protectors, I found a leather bag on the ground. It had clothes and some books inside! I grabbed it and rushed back to my place. Luckily, the books were in the language I'd learned at the cottage."

"They were Paradise Lost, a bunch of Plutarch’s Lives, and The Sorrows of Werter. Getting those books was seriously amazing. I studied them all the time while my friends were doing their usual stuff."

"You wouldn’t believe how these books messed with me. They brought up a ton of new stuff - images, feelings, everything. Sometimes I’d feel totally on top of the world, but more often I’d be super bummed. The Sorrows of Werter was wild."

It had this simple, heartbreaking story, but it also explored so many ideas and shed light on things I hadn’t even thought about before. I could spend forever just thinking about it and being amazed.

"The way it showed everyday life mixed with these big, selfless feelings really clicked with how things were with my protectors and what I was always feeling inside. "But Werter? He felt like a whole other level - more amazing than anything I’d ever imagined.

He wasn't trying to be anything he wasn't, but he just got you. The way it talked about death and suicide was just... intense. I wasn't trying to decide if it was right or wrong, but I totally felt for the hero. I cried when he... you know. I didn’t even fully understand it.

"Reading, I kept relating everything to my own life and how I felt. I saw myself in the characters, but also felt totally different. I got what they were going through, but I was still figuring things out. I didn't depend on anyone, and I wasn’t really connected to anyone."

"‘My path was clear,’ and no one would even miss me if I disappeared. I looked... rough, and I was huge. What was that about? Who even was I? What was my deal? Where did I come from? Where was I going? These questions kept popping up, but I couldn't figure them out."

The copy of Plutarch’s Lives I had covered the stories of the first leaders of the old republics. This book hit me way differently than Werter’s Sorrows. Werter made me feel down and gloomy, but Plutarch got me thinking big.

He lifted me up, past my own worries, to admire and love the heroes of the past. A lot of what I read was over my head, stuff I didn’t get or couldn’t relate to. I knew a little about countries, big rivers, and the ocean, but I’d never seen a real city or a huge group of people.

The cottage where my protectors lived was my only classroom for understanding people, but this book opened up whole new worlds of action. I read about people involved in politics, running things or even hurting each other.

I suddenly felt this huge desire to be good and a strong dislike for what's wrong, as far as I understood what those words meant, and how they related to feeling good or bad.

Because of all this, I naturally started liking the peaceful leaders, like Numa, Solon, and Lycurgus, more than Romulus and Theseus.

My protectors’ lives shaped my thinking, and honestly, if I'd first learned about people through a young soldier chasing glory and violence, I might have felt totally different.

"But Paradise Lost totally hit different, you know? I read it, like I’d read all the other books I’d found, as a legit history. It stirred up every feeling of wonder and just...wow, seeing an all-powerful God fighting his creations. I kept comparing different parts to my own life, too."

Like Adam, I felt totally disconnected from everyone else. But his situation was way different from mine. He’d been made perfect by God, happy and thriving, and watched over by his Creator. He could even talk to and learn from beings way more advanced than him.

"I was just...miserable, helpless, and totally alone. Sometimes I even felt like Satan was more like me. Like him, I’d get this pang of envy when I saw my protectors happy."

"Something else really solidified how I felt. Not long after I got to the shack, I found some papers in the pocket of the dress I’d grabbed from your lab. At first, I totally ignored them, but once I could figure out what they said, I started studying them, like, seriously."

It was your journal - the one from the four months before I was even made. You wrote down every single detail of how you made me. It was mixed with stuff about your home life too. You probably remember those papers. Here they are. It’s all in there - everything about how I was created.

It lays out the whole disgusting story of how I came to be, with super detailed descriptions of what you thought of my looks - stuff that painted your own fear and made mine permanent. I felt sick reading it. ‘Ugh, what a day to be born ! I yelled, totally freaking out.

‘Seriously, why did you make a monster so ugly that even you were disgusted by me? God made people beautiful and amazing, after his image, but I'm just a gross version of you, even more horrible because I kinda look like you.

"Even Satan had his buddies, other devils to cheer him on, but I'm all alone and everyone hates me.’"

Those were just flashbacks to my really low moments and when I was totally alone. But then I started thinking about how awesome the cottagers were - they were so kind and helpful. I figured if they knew how much I admired them, they’d feel bad for me and forget about how I looked.

Seriously, could they just turn away someone who needed their help and friendship, no matter how weird they looked? I decided not to give up, and I’d work super hard to be ready to meet them. That meeting would basically decide my whole future.

I put off trying for a few more months because I was so stressed about messing it up. Plus, I was learning so much every day that I didn’t want to try until I felt even smarter. A lot happened at the cottage in the meantime. Safie made everyone so happy, and there was just more stuff going around.

Felix and Agatha were having way more fun and talking a lot more, and they even had help with chores. They weren’t rolling in dough, but they were happy and chill. My feelings, though, were getting more and more intense. The more I learned, the more I realized how much of an outsider I was.

I still had hope, but it would disappear whenever I saw my reflection in water or my shadow in the moonlight - like a fleeting image or an unreliable shade.

"I tried so hard to ditch those fears and get ready for what I knew was coming in a few months. Sometimes, though, I just let my thoughts run wild, dreaming about amazing, beautiful people who would get me and lift me up. Their faces, so kind and gentle, felt like a hug. But it was just a dream."

"No Eve was there to comfort me or share my thoughts. I was totally alone. I remembered Adam’s prayer to his Creator. But where was mine? He’d left me, and I was so bitter, I cursed him. "Autumn just...happened.

I watched, shocked and sad, as the leaves died and fell, and nature went back to looking empty and harsh, like it did when I first saw the woods and the moon. But I didn’t really notice the bad weather - I handled cold way better than heat.

My favorite thing was seeing the flowers, the birds, and all the bright colors of summer. When they were gone, I started paying more attention to the cottagers. They were happy, no matter what.

They loved and supported each other, and their joy didn't disappear even when tough stuff happened around them. The more I saw them, the more I wanted their protection and kindness. My heart ached to be known and loved by these sweet people.

Just to see them look at me with affection was all I wanted. I didn’t think they’d turn away from me in disgust and horror. They never kicked anyone off their doorstep. I asked for more than just food or a place to sleep, it's true. I wanted kindness and understanding.

"But I didn't think I was completely undeserving of it."

"Winter was hitting hard, and it had been a whole cycle of seasons since I woke up. Right then, I was totally focused on getting into the cottage where my protectors lived. I brainstormed a bunch of ideas, but I finally decided to go in when the blind old man was alone."

I figured out that the main thing that scared people was how freaky I looked. My voice was rough, but not scary, so I thought if I could win over the old De Lacey when his kids weren’t around, maybe he could help me get accepted by the younger ones.

"One day, the sun was shining on the red leaves all over the ground - it was cheerful, even if it wasn’t warm. Safie, Agatha, and Felix went for a long walk in the countryside, and the old man wanted to be by himself in the cottage."

After they left, he grabbed his guitar and played some really sad but beautiful songs, the prettiest and most mournful I’d ever heard. At first, he looked happy, but then he got thoughtful and sad. Finally, he put the guitar down and just sat there, lost in his own thoughts.

"My heart was pounding - this was it, the moment of truth, that would either make my dreams come true or crush my hopes. The servants were at a fair nearby. Everything was quiet inside and around the cottage; it was the perfect chance. But when I tried to do it, my legs went weak, and I collapsed."

I got up again, pushing through the fear, and took away the planks I’d used to hide my little place. The fresh air gave me a boost, and with a fresh wave of determination, I headed toward the cottage door. "I knocked. ‘Who’s there?’ asked the old man. ‘Come in.’"

"I came in. ‘Sorry to barge,’ I said; ‘I’m a traveler and could really use a quick rest. I’d be so grateful if you’d let me hang out by the fire for a bit.’ "‘Come in,’ said De Lacey.

‘I’ll see what I can do to help, but unfortunately, my kids aren’t here, and being blind, I’m worried about getting you any food.’ "‘Don’t worry about it, kind sir. I’ve got my own food. I just need some warmth and a place to chill. "I sat down, and things got quiet.

I knew every second mattered, but I couldn’t figure out how to start the conversation, when the old man spoke up. "‘Your way of talking, you must be from my country, right? Are you French?’ "‘Not exactly. I was raised by a French family and only speak that language.

I’m heading to see some friends I really care about, and I’m hoping they’ll help me out.’ "‘Are they German?’ "‘Nah, they’re French. But let’s change the subject. I’m kind of a mess - totally alone, no family or friends on Earth.

"These people I’m going to see have never met me and don't know much about me. I'm freaking out, because if they don’t help, I’m basically an outcast forever.’ "‘Don’t lose hope.

"Being friendless is rough, but people’s hearts, when they’re not thinking about themselves, are full of kindness and generosity. So, hold onto your hopes; and if these friends are good people, don’t give up.’ "‘They’re awesome - the best people ever. But, they’re kinda biased against me.

I’m a good person, and I’ve lived a harmless, even helpful, life so far. But this awful prejudice is clouding their judgment, and where they should see a friendly face, they just see a freak.’

"‘That’s rough; but if you’re really in the clear, can’t you set them straight?’ "‘I’m about to do that; and that’s why I’m feeling so freaked out. I really care about these people. I’ve been showing them kindness every day for months, without them knowing; but they think I want to hurt them.

That’s what I need to change. ‘Where do these friends live? ‘Around here. The old man stopped and went on, ‘If you tell me everything, I might be able to help clear things up. I can’t see, so I cann't judge your face, but something in your voice makes me think you’re telling the truth.

I’m broke and an outcast, but it’d be awesome to help someone out.’ "‘You’re amazing! Thanks so much for your offer. You’re pulling me up from rock bottom. I’m counting on your help to stay with my friends and get their support.’ "‘Seriously, don’t say that!

"Even if you did do something wrong, that would just push you over the edge, not make you a better person. My family and I have been wrongly condemned, so you can imagine how I feel about your situation.’ "‘How can I ever thank you, my only friend?

"You’re the first person to be nice to me; I’ll be forever grateful. Your kindness right now gives me hope that I’ll succeed with my friends.’ "‘Can you tell me their names and where they live?’

I froze. This, I figured, was the big decision - the one that would either make or break me, forever. I tried to find the courage to respond, but it totally drained me. I collapsed into the chair and just started crying. Then I heard my younger protectors coming. I didn’t have a second to lose.

I grabbed the old man’s hand and yelled, "Now’s the time! Save me! Protect me! You and your family are the friends I’m looking for. Don't ditch me now! "Good heavens!" the old man blurted. "Who are you? Just then, the cottage door swung open, and Felix, Safie, and Agatha walked in.

You could not describe how shocked they were to see me. Agatha passed out, and Safie, too stunned to help her, bolted out of the cottage. Felix flew forward and, with unbelievable strength, ripped me away from his dad. I was clinging to his knees, furious.

He slammed me to the ground and whacked me hard with a stick. I could have torn him to shreds, like a lion with an antelope. But my heart just sank, like a bad sickness, and I held back.

I saw him about to hit me again when, overwhelmed with pain and anguish, I bailed from the cottage and slipped away to my hovel unnoticed in all the chaos.