Cain
The time was simpler then; no murder or forced death, only old age took people. The nefarious diseases of today where not even thought of. Every human was equal, and every beast in the field was fair game. Harvesting the land took back-breaking work and elbow grease. People maintained a no-nonsense attitude by day, and at night they were filled with spirits and wine, merry making and enjoying what they could of the night.
In the middle of a corn field stood a man, knife gripped tightly chopping off all of its stalks that he could carry. The sun glared down at the earth, its heat scorching his skin, turning forcing its tanned pigment into a hard, red sunburn. His thoughts rambled around his head, making a plan of what work was to be done tomorrow, and what had to be done today; for nightfall was swiftly approaching and he head home soon. His father and brother would soon be home and his mother would be cooking the meeting.
Gathering what he could in his arms, he meandered home, thoughts still flying high in the darkening sky. He saw the lit fire from miles away, and started running, dropping corn stalks as he neared his hand-built home. His oldest brothers and sisters had married someone in the family tree and had moved away. Now, mainly all that remained at the home were his father, his mother, and his two younger brothers, Abel and Seth.
Abel was the hunter in the family, even the oldest brothers, who were nearing the age of one hundred and fifty, admitted that when it came to the bow, Abel was the best shot. Abel was the image of his father; brown hair, blue eyes, and a bow was always at his side.
Seth, the other son, was his mother's favorite, Cain had decided. Of course being the youngest had its affects on the parents. Always getting out of trouble and always getting his way when it came to whom to visit in the summer. Cain envied Seth, not enough to throttle him, but enough to give him a hard time.
Cain was the oldest child who still lived at home, quickly approaching the age of twenty-one, he would soon leave the comfort of his father's house to wander about the world, crashing at his brothers' and sisters' places. In one month he would be considered a man, to find one of his nieces and marry and have children, live the life that he could provide for himself. But the problem was, the world seemed to be filling up at an extremely astounding rate, and soon it might not be big enough for him to find a job and live properly as a man should.
A week flew by in what seemed like a blink and the day approached of the waxing moon. Now the waxing moon was when Cain's father like to perform the sacrifice to God, but instead of him performing it on one night it would take three nights to perform three sacrifices, for Abel and Cain were to perform a sacrifice on the first night, each of the separate from each other. On the second night, the night of the waxing moon, all five of them would be there together, and Cain's father would kill the second animal himself, and on the night after, the night of Abel's eighteen birthday, he would perform the last sacrifice, which would be that of a flawless, perfect lamb.
The night before his and Abel's sacrifice, Cain was restless. Though he was bleary eyed and his limbs were sore, but his mind was racing, he was full of thoughts and questions and made a seemingly never-ending list. Abel was sacrificing a lamb; but Cain? No, Cain wouldn't, no couldn't, bloody himself and kill an animal. He decided to stick with his profession as a farmer and place corn on the stone altar and burn that.
The night ended and the sun rose from the east and sank into the west once more; the day had came and passed like a fleeting moment. Cain's eyelids started to droop, he was startled by a bonk to the forehead and a shake.
"Wake up, you lazy fool," Abel said. "You should know what tonight is; the night before the waxing moon. Do you have your sacrifice ready? You can borrow a sheep that I have if you need to."
"No, I don't need to borrow one," Cain sighed, jumping up to walk with his little brother. They walked the dusty path until their roads spilt, Abel taking the right and Cain taking the left. As they started their separate ways, for the sacrifices were to be made a few miles apart, the silence enveloped Cain.
He felt like he was being suffocated, suffocated by air and silence. His walk was long, and his journey was hard and cold. He found a place, a few hundred yards away from the corn stalks, and started building his a the altar, so he could properly burn the crops. He gathered them; stone by stone he slapped them into the hard ground. He started at the altars base, making it the shape of a triangle. His breathing was hard and his burden was heavy. He had to make this altar beautiful and strong, for it was to last for years, and also it had to be finished before the sun hit the horizon.
It rained as he started to finish it, and he took the mud and coated the rocks' rough surface making it smooth and flawless. And as soon as he had finished the coating process, the rain stopped, as if its only purpose was to wet the ground enough to water the hard, red clay. The surface of the mud quickly dried and Cain placed the dry leaves and brush that he had carried in a pouch into the mud-coated basin.
Cain's eyes became heavy and limbs became weak, and every cell in his body cried out for rest, both spiritual and physical. He grabbed the knife at his hip as he approached the field, and he sliced as main stalks of corn as he could carry. He groaned silently at its weight, but he did not drop them or decide to leave a few behind.
He placed them gently onto the altar, and grabbed for the last items in his pouch, to dry wooden sticks. He pushed his hands underneath the corn and placed the sticks together, rubbing them as hard and as fast as he could. Some where in the minutes he spent trying to start a fire, a spark was created from the heat and friction between the two sticks. Because of the laws of nature, potential became kinetic and the spark was born and it reacted to the dry brush that created the fire.
It roared. The fire ruptured out from the altar in a huge, flaming mountain of gas. Cain stepped back quickly, he didn't know what the fire would cause, but he hadn't been expecting this. He believed it to be live in a sort, having some type of consciousness, and after the fire continuing its stay in the air, he believe God to be possessing it.
He bent down on one knee, muttering a silent prayer and ended it with, "Forgive of my sins of the past, the present, and the future."
As Cain walked home, he could see a large flaming mass, what had happened to him, only it was different. Then moon shone like a spotlight on his brother and his work. Abel's sacrifice, though bloody and dying, seem like it was being honored to the highest degree. And, Cain didn't know if it was his imagination or if it really had occurred, but he could swear that he heard trumpets.
He blinked; he couldn't be hearing a trumpet for only two existed in the world. But the perfect musical note was unmistakably a trumpet; the melodic sound of its vibrations had him in a daze for several moments. He was ripped away from the peaceful daze that had settled on him for a moment because, a crash of fire and light hit the area his brother was at.
A deep, disgusting feeling settled in his chest. Why was his younger brother receiving this honor? It should be mine, he thought, hatred scorching his veins and polluting his mind. Who know what glorious blessing his brother was receiving, but Cain wanted it for himself. The light faded and Cain ran to his brother. He heard Abel exclaim a "ah" sound and he drew his knife.
Abel heard someone coming to him and he assumed it was his brother and said, "Cain! Look what's"- but he didn't get to finish, because as he turned around, Cain shoved the knife deep into his heart. The light left Abel's eyes and his limbs became weak, his soul escaped and flew to Sheol and Abel, son of Adam, was dead.
Now this epidemic was the first murder, and day by day, the word of what happened to Abel was told. On the morning after Abel was slain, Cain was asked, "Cain, where is your brother?"
"I do not know, am I to be my brothers keeper?" And with that comment, Cain was marked by the only being who controls the fate of souls. He was to be protected and fed; he was not killed for his punishment was to live knowing the truth about what happened to his brother.
But the true question is what if Cain hadn't plunged his knife into his brother's heart, what if the first murder was never committed, would the world be like it is today? The only know answer is we will never know.
End
