If you could see through the universe, into the eyes of another you who's lived a different life. You witness their choices, their paths, and the consequences that came with them. You would witness them rise, fall, and end. To the dawn of their conception, to their wrath and regret. How would you feel? How would you react?
Would you feel remorse? Would you empathize? Perhaps, the majority would. Adam flipped the page to another chapter, uncaring for the world around him. The moon hung in the sky outside his window, the sound of the crickets and the owls reverberated in the room, and the rustling of the forest from the cold wind of the coming winter. Right here, right now - only he and this book existed.
He felt as if he'd been given a chance, a chance not to make the same mistakes. To gaze into a future so terrible, it made his decisions in the present all the more important. An example was offered on a silver platter, the only decision that remained was if he would follow the same path.
For every book he read, he lived another life. He'd lived the life of a conqueror, a philosopher, the life of a believer, the life of an angel - now he lived the life of a creator and another creature. Victor Frankenstein, an ambitious young man in pursuit of creation, to defy the natural laws of God. He succeeded, but not in the way he expected or accepted.
In his eyes, he had created an abomination, a monster. He believed, in his opposition of it, he had created death itself. So he denied it, with all his being, and ran. But how could a creature, brought into the world without their knowing, denied of acceptance by its maker, react in nothing but wrath? No matter who, when abandoned, would be angered. Adam could resonate with it, but not with its malice.
He saw the justice in his reaction, but also the extremities of his loathing. He reflected upon the world and his misery, something Adam could not understand. Maybe it is their upbringing; he was found by Larissa, whereas the creature learned by himself. With no one around to teach it care, warmth, life, it fostered hate, like a parasite in his heart.
From where is virtue measured? In the act of violence and force? Or in the prevailing of perseverance? Adam took his eyes off the book, gazing at the bright moon. It reminded him of the creature, in how it felt when the gentle light it radiated beheld him.
Somewhere out there is his creator, his Victor, illuminated by the same moon. He traced his scars once more, "Does he know me?" He asked himself, "Does he know he succeeded?" He could feel his beating heart, the air in his lungs, the rush of blood as he thought of his maker.
He thought back to what Larissa had told him, how the sheriff found him in the forest. Brought to her in bandages, unconscious. The sheriff thought he was an Outcast, a Nevermore student. He wasn't; now he is. An Outcast, on the other hand— that remains still a mystery.
"Or he does," he glanced at the book, "and he denies me like Victor." He raised his hand up, as if he's holding the celestial body that's in the sky, "Where are you, my creator? Where are you, my God? Do you sleep in peace knowing of my existence?"
'Is he still alive?' Adam thought grimly. A question that perhaps, he'd never get the answer to. He's left with no clue, with no memory, with no name to chase. He's stranded in an ocean of darkness with no lighthouse to guide. How do you chase a belief? You cannot; you can simply hope.
Hope. Was his pursuit the same as Victor's? Is he just another act of defiance against nature? That doesn't seem so bad, himself a product of triumph against the antithesis of life itself. A chuckle left his mouth, the very first. "Childish." He whispered. It's an arrogant thought, but a valid one nonetheless. If the creature took it this way, would he be as wrathful? Adam shook his head. "Nothing would change. It's not the truth that procured misery, but the rejection."
The book, contrary to Larissa's expectations, brought not the same wrath, but another perspective. A sense of peace in his heart. "Wisdom is taken from the errors, learned from the mistakes." But a new burden in his heart formed, of a loneliness only someone who knows there is no other like them in the world could feel.
A soft creak broke his solitude. He turned, half-expecting Larissa at the door, but the room was still. Only the wind brushed the wooden panes, whispering like a voice too shy to speak.
"Is that you?" he murmured to the empty air, his voice trembling between hope and fear. No answer came, save for the sigh of leaves outside. He shut his eyes and listened, willing the silence to break.
Then, as if from the very marrow of night, a voice rose within him, or perhaps around him—he could not tell.
"I know you," it said, a breath of sound that might have been his own thought, words, to him, like nectar from the gods.
His chest tightened. "Creator?"
No reply, silence. The air thickened with night's embrace, and the moon drifted from behind a cloud, painting his scars in silver. He felt both seen and unseen, known and abandoned.
Adam lowered his hand from the ceiling of stars and whispered to the dark, "If you truly know me… then why am I alone?"
Only the crickets answered, and the wind carried their song into the forest, leaving Adam with the soft, cold weight of his hope. Hope that perhaps, he'd find the answer to his questions.
—-
Botany, the study of plant life. The most fascinating thing Adam had learned prior to today is the fact that like animals and humans, plants are alive. Granted that he's never seen an animal before, he does have an idea of some. Plants breathe, they move, and they reproduce. To others, it may seem common sense, something taught in the early days of childhood. But to him, it's a mind-blowing fact.
Adam's eyes fell on the trees outside. The lush forest of Jericho, dancing and prancing as the wind hit the leaves. 'They're alive.' Plants could not speak 'normally,' not in the way other organisms would. But they could, to each other. 'How interesting!' Adam thought in joy, 'To learn about life!'
He hurriedly made his way to his first class of today, well, his first class ever - Botany, with Ms. Marilyn Thornhill. A professor that Larissa had already briefed him on. Kind, caring, and infinitely passionate about her job.
Her class is located outside. When he takes this turn, he should be at… the conservatory! 'It's here.' Adam thought, observing the glassed building in front of him. He could see plants inside, the tiny ecosystem that prevails in that tiny building. Some students were already inside, and some were entering at the same time as him.
He entered through a glass door, pushing it carefully as not to touch it. As soon as he got inside, the smell of soil, of fresh air assaulted his senses. Everywhere he looked, he could see a new plant, some taller and some shorter than others. Just as humans possess different looks and attributes, so do plants.
His hands touched a leaf, gently. 'Rough.' He thought, feeling the texture. Then he touched another, 'Softer, but still rough.' For a while, he went around prodding and nudging plants, earning some strange looks from his classmates who arrived early. Like a connoisseur, he compared the texture of each plant to another until a tap on his shoulder interrupted him.
"Excuse me…" a female voice from behind him said. Adam turned around, coming face-to-face with a red-haired woman wearing sunglasses, Ms. Thornhill. She looked at Adam awkwardly, "Are you Mr. Cain?" She asked.
"Ah.." Adam realized what he's been doing, "Did I delay the class?" He asked, embarrassed, another emotion learned today. Ms. Thornhill chuckled, "No, no! There's still 5 minutes left. I just wanted to see what you were doing."
"I was… feeling the leaves and comparing them." He said shyly, looking at the plant life around as if they'd come alive and speak in his defense. Ms. Thornhill nodded, "You know, that's a great way to approach botany. In order to learn about plants, we have to know each of them first. And I'm Marilyn Thornhill, your botany professor!
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Thornhill." Adam said respectfully, "and I find them fascinating…" He added, "How something so silent could be so sustaining." He placed his hand on a bark. Ms. Thornhill smiled at his action, "They give us air for life and don't ask for more. Amazing, don't you think?" She said.
"Amazing and noble, yes." He replied softly. Before the conversation could get further, a rush of students filled the room, typical of high-schoolers to arrive literally a minute before the scheduled time. Ms. Thornhill looked around, the room filling with students chatting with their classmates as they sat down. "Oh, well! It was nice chatting with you, Mr. Cain. How about we start class now?" Adam nodded, watching as his new classmates settled down.
The class went as Adam expected - an exploration of a field beyond paper and words. Ms. Thornhill brought out live specimens for them to see, plants that could only be grown from different parts of the world brought in this class just for them to study.
They're put inside glass jars, specifically set for each in order for them to thrive despite the different climate. They were trapped against their own will, brought to a land they know nothing about. Adam thought, 'Do plants feel emotions?' an innocent thought born from an innocent mind. They, in a way, are in captivity. How would you feel if you were trapped, taken away from your people, then studied by other creatures? 'If they could speak, would they protest?' He asked himself again.
The ideas in his mind bordered in naivety. He exempted them, entertained them long enough until he felt a sort of grace. Plants live, just as plants die. Man lives, just as man die. The cycle of life for them is different, but ultimately leading to the same conclusion. 'Will I die one day?' He thought grimly, the truth of his existence weighing in his mind.
Without noticing it, 2 hours have gone by. The bell rung, awfully early than usual. "Okay, guys! Class dismissed! I'll see you all at the courtyard!" Ms. Thornhill said cheerfully as the students stood up and began preparing to leave. 'The outreach..' Adam remembered, 'Another annual event.'
Adam stood up as well, just now two familiar faces from the crowd - Wednesday and Enid. The werewolf, Enid, waved at him happily while Wednesday gave him a death glare, once again highlighting the two's difference despite their supposed friendship. He waved back before picking up his backpack to leave. 'I wonder what Jericho is like…'
—-
'This is the place.' Wednesday thought as she compared the prophecy picture with the courtyard. The chatter of the students and professors echoes in the air, all excited, all looking forward for what's coming.
"All students will report for their volunteer jobs at 10:00 AM sharp, followed by community lunch at 1:00…"
Wednesday turned around, facing Weems' direction as she made an announcement. She may look calm and composed outside, but her insides are screaming in misery and agony. 'Outreach Day. With bigots.' She mused.
"..culminates in a very special event, the dedication of a new memorial statue in the town square, which will also include performances by Nevermore students…"
The students giggled and cheered, Bianca looked even more arrogant than usual, Wednesday thought as she glanced (glared) at the girl. She couldn't care less is what she'd usually say, but the 'queen bee' irked something inside her even she doesn't understand.
"… I trust you will all put your best face forward." With that, her announcement ended and the students began walking to their professors to get their slips. To her, it felt like playing Russian roulette but instead of your life, it's your dignity on the line. Her fencing teacher, Vlad, handed her a slip.
'Moment of truth.' Just as Wednesday was about to open it, Enid came skipping. "Yes! I got Pilgrim World! I do have natural people skills and a love of performing, so it's kind of the obvi choice. What did you get?!" She exclaimed excitedly. Sometimes Wednesday wonders whether an extended lung comes with the Wolf physiology with how long her roommate could speak without breathing.
She turned her attention to the envelope again, opening it to reveal, "Uriah's Heap, whatever that is." Enid cringed, "Ew. It's this weird, creepy antique store." She tried to cheer Wednesday up, or herself, "You'd love it, tho! I'm crossing my claws Ajax and I will be outreaching together!"
Wednesday glanced behind Enid, seeing the approaching Principal Weems. She tried her best not to show her… contempt. Enid excused herself, so the two could talk. "Wednesday, don't worry about your cello. I'll have it brought to the town square this afternoon."
Wednesday looked confused, tilting her head, "My cello?" She asked, clarifying. Weems smiled, a hint of mischievousness in her eyes , "I caught your rooftop serenade the other night. Impressive. I volunteered you to accompany the Jericho High School marching band at the ceremony." Weems shrugged, "I'm sure it won't be too challenging to play an uplifting Fleetwood Mac Melody."
Wednesday paused, 'Volunteering.' She grimaced internally, "As long as you promise to hang me as a witch afterwards." She said, her tone flat. Weems' eyes lit up, as if remembering another thing she'd wanted to bring-up.
"I see you've made acquaintances with Mr. Cain. How is he?" Asked Weems, her question setting off alarms in Wednesday's head. 'She's concerned. The question is why?'
"Fine." Answered Wednesday, "You seem to be keeping a close eye on him. May I ask why?" She followed with a question of her own. Weems' facade twitched, subtle, but something Wednesday caught-on with her precise eyes. "I simply wanted to know if he's adjusting well." Weems responded.
"Why? Is he a part of your cover-up?" Wednesday retorted, snorting. Weems' smile stayed frozen, but her eyes darkened for a fleeting moment. She leaned in ever so slightly, lowering her voice.
"You're speaking nonsense. And… I suggest you stop your… 'would-be detective' play, Ms. Addams."
Wednesday's eyes narrowed, her mind filing the answer away like a bullet in the chamber. "Or perhaps," she said, "he's a pawn in this game you're playing."
Weems straightened, her graceful authority returning like a cloak. "Enjoy the Outreach Day, Ms. Addams."
Wednesday's fingers twitch, her subtle reaction to something. Excitement? Joy? No, exhilaration. She's got a reaction from Weems, something really is up with this Adam Cain. She glanced at his direction, there he is, reading his assigned place.
'It doesn't matter what his role is. I'll find the truth, one way or another.'
---
Adam got off the bus, his slip in hand - Pilgrim World. 'I wonder where that is.' He looked around, spotting a sign that says, "Go to Pilgrim World, now!" a not so subtle clue that he began following. As he walked, he took in the view of the small town that is Jericho. It felt… new. Old, but not old like those cities in the books. Modern, but not industrialized like Britain. It looked, as many would describe, a normal small town.
Not long after walking, he stepped onto the cobbled path entering Pilgrim World, squinting beneath the late morning sun. The place was a curious blend of old and false: wooden façades dressed as history, smiling actors in stiff collars and buckled hats, and the faint scent of chocolate wafting through the air. His classmates dispersed in pairs and trios, blending into the excited crowd. Adam, silent and alone, drifted toward the entrance arch, reading the carved sign as if it might speak back to him.
"Pilgrim World - HOW NOW PILGRIMS."
Adam glanced at the 'historical place.' "It's… a world pretending to be alive," he said. "That's the best way do put it." A flat, monotone voice replied next to him. He turned, seeing Wednesday Addams beside him. He froze for a second, confused as to how the girl appeared beside him. "Are you going to enter or are you going to stand here like a fool?" Wednesday said sharply, before leaving him at the entrance.
Adam took one last look of the arch before following the gloomy girl. Inside, he could see what appears to be a group of tourist, speaking in an unfamiliar language to him. He tried to grasp their conversation, only to fail miserably. Some students and tourists looked at him with strange expressions - afraid, intimidated, and curious. He saw his classmates, Bianca if he could remember properly, posing before a glowing… brick.
He narrowed his eyes, looking at the 'device' with curiosity before turning to Wednesday, "Hey, what is… that?" He asked, pointing to the 'brick.' Wednesday looked at him strangely, "That's a cellphone. You don't know what a cellphone is?" She said, tilting her head.
Adam nodded, "What does it do?" He asked again, unbothered by her look. Wednesday widened her eyes, she froze. She pressed her lips together, truthfully, she doesn't know much apart from what it is. It's like a caveman asking a 19th century kid what a printer does - they make books. Finally, "A lot of things..." Wednesday answered, unsure.
She shook her head, changing the topic, "How do you not know what a phone is?" she asked, her tone interrogative. Adam met her accusing gaze, calm and curious, "I've never read about them before." He replied. Wednesday saw no lie, only a child-like innocence that seeks to satiate their interest.
'A teenager that doesn't know about phones.' Wednesday mentally noted, 'I'm right, he's anything but normal.'
—-