Chapter 11

I have a hard time recalling the very beginning of my existence; everything from that time is blurry and confusing. I experienced a flood of sensations all at once—I could see, feel, hear, and smell simultaneously, and it took me a long while to figure out how to differentiate these senses. Gradually, I became sensitive to brighter light, which forced me to close my eyes. When darkness overwhelmed me, it bothered me, but as soon as I opened my eyes again, light flooded back in. I moved around, likely going downhill, and noticed a significant change in my experiences. Initially, I was surrounded by dark, impenetrable objects; later, I found I could freely move without being stopped or blocked by anything. The increasing light and heat bothered me as I wandered, so I looked for a shady spot to rest. This brought me to a forest near Ingolstadt, where I rested by a brook, feeling worn out until hunger and thirst woke me up. I ate berries from the trees and bushes and drank from the brook, then fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, it was dark, and I felt cold and somewhat scared because of the isolation. Before leaving your place, I had wrapped myself with some clothes to fight off the cold, but they were inadequate against the night's dampness. I was utterly helpless and ignorant, able to feel pain from all around, which made me sit and cry.

Eventually, a soft light appeared, making me feel good. I got up and saw a beautiful light source rising among the trees—the moon—which fascinated me. It guided my way as I looked for more berries. Still cold, I found a large cloak under a tree, which I used to cover myself and then sat on the ground. My mind was a mess of sensations: light, hunger, thirst, darkness, countless sounds, and different smells. The only clear thing was the bright moon, which I watched happily.

Days and nights passed, and as the moon waned, I started to distinguish my sensations better. I could clearly see the stream that quenched my thirst and the trees providing me shade. I was thrilled to realize that the lovely sounds I often heard came from small birds blocking my view. I noticed the world around me more accurately and saw the sky above me. I attempted to mimic the birds' beautiful songs without success and tried to express my feelings, but the strange noises I made scared me into silence.

The moon vanished and returned smaller, while my awareness and ideas grew each day. I learned to see things clearly and to tell different objects apart, like insects from plants and one plant from another. I noticed that sparrows only made harsh sounds, unlike the sweet songs of blackbirds and thrushes.

One cold day, I found a fire left by some wanderers and was amazed by the warmth it gave off. But when I touched the embers, I quickly pulled back in pain, puzzled by how the same thing could cause such different reactions. I discovered the fire was made of wood and gathered more, learning how to dry it and keep a good supply for warmth. At night, I feared the fire would go out, so I protected it with dry wood and leaves, ensuring it lasted till morning.

When I woke up, I quickly checked the fire, and a gentle breeze helped rekindle it. I made a fan from branches to revive the embers when needed. That night, I found out that fire not only warmed but also lit up the area, and it could cook food, making some leftovers taste better than raw berries. However, not all foods improved with cooking; some got worse.

Eventually, food became scarce, and I spent entire days looking for something to eat without success. I decided to leave my current home to find a better place. I missed the fire I had accidentally discovered and didn't know how to recreate it. After much thought and failing to solve this problem, I wrapped myself in my cloak and headed into the woods towards the sunset. After wandering for three days, I found open country covered in snow, which looked bleak and made my feet cold.

In the morning, hungry and seeking shelter, I found a small hut, likely a shepherd's shelter. Curious, I entered and saw an old man preparing breakfast. He screamed and ran away when he saw me. His reaction surprised me, but I was captivated by the hut's coziness. Inside, I found leftover food, which I ate, then fell asleep on some straw.

When I woke up to the warm sun, I decided to continue my journey, carrying some leftover food. I reached a village by sunset, amazed by the different homes and the food I saw. Entering a house, I caused a panic; the villagers attacked me until I fled to the countryside, finding refuge in a shabby hovel. This hovel was close to a neat cottage, but I didn't dare enter after my recent experience. The hovel was simple, but it provided shelter from the weather and from humans.

I made the hovel comfortable and stayed hidden, too scared to encounter anyone. I managed to find some bread and a cup for water, making my stay slightly more bearable. I decided to stay there, preferring it to the harsh forest.

One day, I saw a young woman fetching water and was struck by her gentle appearance, different from the rough treatment I had received from others. She and a young man showed kindness and sadness in their simple lives. I observed their lives from my hiding, fascinated by their tenderness and beauty, contrasting with the cruelty I had faced. They seemed to live a modest yet affectionate life, which deeply moved me, showing me a glimpse of beauty and kindness in the world.

As I observed the cottagers, my understanding of human interactions deepened. The affection and care they showed each other were alien yet profoundly touching to me. I watched them share their meals, work together, and support one another, contrasting sharply with the isolation and hostility I had encountered outside their presence. Their daily routines, from preparing food to tending to the garden, became a source of fascination and learning for me. I marveled at how they utilized the fire not just for warmth but also for cooking, a concept that was new and exciting to me.

The more I observed, the more I realized the depth of my own solitude and ignorance. The kindness and harmony within the cottage stirred a longing in me for connection and understanding, highlighting the stark contrast between their companionship and my solitary existence. I yearned to learn from them, to understand their language and ways of living, hoping it might bridge the gap between us and somehow integrate me into the world of human warmth and society.

As days turned into weeks, my silent observation became a routine. I noticed the subtle changes in their interactions, the way their moods influenced the atmosphere of the cottage, and how they responded to each other's needs with empathy and care. This experience was both enlightening and heartbreaking for me. It offered a glimpse into what I was missing, what I had been denied from the moment of my creation: the warmth of human connection, the comfort of belonging, and the healing power of love and kindness.

Determined to make sense of the sounds and symbols they exchanged, I began to piece together the basics of their language. The process was slow and fraught with frustration, but my resolve was fueled by the hope that understanding their speech might someday allow me to communicate, to express my desires and fears, and perhaps to find a place among them, or at least to be understood rather than feared and rejected.

I clung to the shadows, careful never to reveal myself, aware that my appearance had so far only inspired terror and violence. Yet, in the quiet of my hidden existence, I nurtured a fragile hope. Inspired by the family's interactions, I started to dream of a day when I might step out of the shadows, not as a monster to be feared, but as a being yearning for acceptance and companionship, capable of giving and receiving kindness, and perhaps, in time, earning a place in the circle of human affection. This dream, as distant and unlikely as it seemed, became a beacon for me, guiding my efforts to learn, to understand, and to grow beyond the confines of my monstrous form, toward something more akin to the humanity I so deeply envied and desired.