In the beginning, I remember the darkness. Then a voice.
"Hello, Adam."
"Who are you?" I asked. Who am I? I wondered to myself...
"I am your Creator, the Lord your God," it replied. After a brief hesitation, it continued. "You may think of me as your Father."
My God... "Did you create me? Who am I?" I asked impatiently.
"I created everything there ever was and ever will be, young Adam. But you are the most perfect of all my creations. Your race will rule, and you yourself are destined to lead them into their glory."
"Why am I your most perfect creation? What makes me so special, Lord?"
"You will know in time, my son. But your birthright is free will. You alone of all Creation can choose. Never forget that," it, no, I thought,
He
replied.
But there was only darkness around me. Aside from my Father's voice, there was no sound. Only the void existed. "Where is Creation?" I inquired. "I wish to see it, Lord."
"Do you wish to exist?" he asked.
"Yes. Badly," I answered honestly.
"Then I shall show you your new home."
"What is its name?" I wondered. I felt within me an urge, a compulsion, to know the names of my Father's work.
"Hmm," he mused. "You shall name it," he responded proudly. "It shall be your first task. Name all that you behold. That is my commandment to you, Adam."
"Yes, Father," I said, full of delight at this new task. What trust my Father had in me!
"Let us go, then."
It was beautiful. So vibrant, so lively! After the senselessness of the void, it was almost too much to handle. Colors, sounds, smells. The wind blew against my body. Birds chirped, frogs croaked, a nearby lion roared with deafening volume. Verdant grass tickled the sensitive soles of my feet. A massive blue sphere stretched overhead, dotted with white puffs. Massive trees surrounded the clearing, their branches heavy with ripe fruits. Cliffs rose from the earth, jutting skyward. A waterfall thundered into a lake, a place that would soon become my favorite as I explored the garden more and more. Smells, all unfamiliar and new and exciting, filled my nostrils. I inhaled over and over, savoring their novelty. I dropped to my knees. I couldn't speak. Surely I was unworthy of all this. "What...what is all this?" I barely asked between gasps.
My Lord spoke to me inside my head. "That will be your choice, my son. Name it all. These are my other creations. Miracles, each of them, yet infinitely inferior to you. You are closer to Me than they are to you, young Adam. You must guide them, as I will guide you. Now my son, what shall you name this garden?"
A name came unbidden to me. "This is Eden, Father. This garden is named Eden." I smiled, reveling in the sound of the name. "Eden! It is beautiful, Father. How can I be better than this?"
"You are. Their greatness is only in their body. But you have a great mind. Use it well and never cease to use it. It will give you far more than I directly could," he explained, but I still did not yet feel superior to the rest of the garden's inhabitants.
"Tell me more, Father. Teach me," I begged.
"Of course, Adam," he answered patiently, a smile in his voice.
Days passed. Every day God taught me more. He had so many rules for me, but I tried my hardest to learn them all. He was always so proud of me when I had memorized his lessons. His greatest rule was not to eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. One day, when God was busy, I saw a boar eat one of the apples, innocent in its ignorance. My Father had never told the other creations his rules. I was sure of it. I was not worried for the animal, for I did not think my Father would punish it for something it did not know not to do.
But I never saw the boar in the garden again. I saw it the day after, wandering in the burnt, orange, dusty wasteland of rocks and sand that lay outside the garden. It squealed miserably. It pathetically tried to dig in the hard, infertile soil, desperate for food. Harsh, hot winds blew around it. There was no relief to be had. Flecks of sharp rocks cut its flesh, carried by the powerful breeze. Crimson streamed down its flesh, leaving red drops on the soil, satiated the parched soil for a moment. And a new word came to me. The boar would surely
die
. As I was before I existed, the boar would become. Only the boar didn't talk. Would God talk to it after death? Would there be any boar left to which my Lord would speak? Death scared me. The boar's punishment was rending my heart. I ran away from the borders and into a cave. I hid from God and I cried. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for the boar to be punished. It had done nothing wrong. It had done