I can barely remember the first moments of my existence. Everything from that time is mixed together in my mind.
At first, I seemed to experience everything at once. I could see, hear, smell, and feel, but I had no idea that these were different senses. They were simply a confusing flood of sensations.
Then a strong light suddenly struck my eyes. It hurt so much that I had to close them.
When darkness came, I became frightened and uncomfortable. Then I opened my eyes again, and the light returned.
I began to move. I think I walked downward for some distance. Soon, however, everything around me changed.
Before that, I had been surrounded by dark, solid shapes that I could neither see through nor move past. Now I discovered that I could walk freely. Whenever something blocked my way, I could climb over it or walk around it.
The light grew stronger, and the heat became painful. I was exhausted and desperately wanted somewhere cool and dark.
Eventually, I reached a forest near Ingolstadt.
There I found a small stream and collapsed beside it. I rested for a while, but soon hunger and thirst became unbearable.
I searched the trees and ground until I found some berries.
I ate them eagerly, then drank from the stream. After that, I lay down beside the water and fell asleep.
When I woke, it was completely dark.
I was cold, and for the first time I felt something close to fear. I was alone, helpless, and surrounded by a world I did not understand.
Before leaving Victor’s room, I had covered myself with some clothes because I had felt cold. But they were far too thin to protect me from the damp night air.
I had no idea who I was or where I was.
Pain seemed to come from every direction.
I sat down and began to cry.
Then, slowly, a soft light appeared in the sky.
The sight brought me an unexpected feeling of happiness.
I stood up and looked through the trees. A bright, beautiful object was rising above them.
It was the moon.
I watched it with wonder.
It moved slowly across the sky, but its light showed me where I was going. Once again, I went looking for food.
I was still freezing when I found a large cloak beneath a tree. I wrapped myself in it and sat down on the ground.
My mind was still confused.
I felt cold, hunger, thirst, and fear. I heard countless strange sounds and smelled countless unfamiliar scents.
But there was one thing I could clearly see.
The moon.
I stared at it for a long time, and its light gave me comfort.
Several days and nights passed.
The moon gradually became smaller, and during that time my mind slowly began to make sense of the world around me.
For the first time, I could clearly see the stream where I drank and the trees that sheltered me.
Then I discovered something wonderful.
I often heard a beautiful sound coming from the little creatures flying among the trees. I finally realized that the sound came from birds.
I tried to imitate their songs.
But I could not.
Whenever I opened my mouth, only strange, rough sounds came out. The noises frightened me so much that I quickly became silent.
As the days passed, my senses became clearer.
My eyes adjusted to the light, and I began to understand the shapes of things around me.
I learned to tell insects from plants. Then I learned that different plants were different from one another.
I also discovered that birds did not all sound the same.
The sparrows made harsh, unpleasant noises, while the blackbirds and thrushes sang sweetly.
Every new discovery filled me with wonder.
One day, while suffering badly from the cold, I came across a fire that some traveling beggars had left behind.
I had never seen anything like it.
I moved closer.
The warmth felt wonderful.
Without understanding the danger, I pushed my hand into the glowing embers.
Pain exploded through my fingers.
I screamed and pulled my hand away.
I stared at the fire in confusion.
How could the same thing make me feel both pleasure and pain?
I examined it carefully.
The fire was made from wood.
That seemed simple enough.
I gathered branches and tried to make another fire, but the branches were wet and refused to burn.
I became frustrated and sat beside the dying fire, watching it.
Then I noticed something.
The wet branches I had placed near the flames slowly dried. Once they were dry enough, they caught fire.
I had discovered how the fire worked.
Excited by this discovery, I gathered a huge pile of wood. I placed the branches near the flames so they could dry, hoping to keep the fire alive.
That night, I was terrified that the fire would go out while I slept.
I carefully covered the glowing embers with dry wood and leaves. Then I placed some damp branches nearby so they could dry later.
Finally, I wrapped myself in my cloak and lay down.
The next morning, I immediately checked the fire.
It was still alive.
A gentle breeze passed over the embers and suddenly made the flames grow stronger.
I watched carefully.
Then I gathered some branches and made a crude fan. Whenever the fire became weak, I used the fan to bring it back to life.
I was extremely proud of myself.
That evening I discovered another use for fire.
It gave me light as well as warmth.
I also noticed that some scraps of food left behind by the travelers had been cooked in the flames.
I tasted them.
They were far better than the raw berries I had been eating.
So I tried cooking my own food.
I placed berries, nuts, and roots directly on the hot embers.
The berries became spoiled and unpleasant.
But the nuts and roots became much tastier.
Fire had become one of the most important things in my life.
Unfortunately, food in the forest soon became difficult to find.
Sometimes I spent an entire day searching and found only a few acorns.
I became weak from hunger.
At last, I decided that I had to leave the forest and find a place where food would be easier to obtain.
But there was one problem.
I could not make fire.
I had discovered it by accident, but I had no idea how to create it from nothing.
I spent hours thinking about the problem.
I tried to remember exactly what had happened.
Nothing helped.
Eventually, I had no choice but to leave the fire behind.
I wrapped myself tightly in my cloak and began walking toward the setting sun.
For three days I wandered through the forest.
At last, I reached open country.
A heavy snowfall had covered the ground during the previous night. Everything was white.
The sight was beautiful from a distance, but the cold snow quickly soaked and chilled my feet.
It was about seven in the morning.
I was desperately hungry and wanted somewhere warm and safe.
Then I saw a small hut on a hill.
I had never seen a building like it before.
Curious, I walked toward it.
The door was open, so I stepped inside.
An old man was sitting near a fire and preparing his breakfast.
The moment he saw me, he screamed.
He jumped up and ran from the hut as fast as his weak old body could carry him.
I stood there in confusion.
Why was he running from me?
I had never seen another human being before, so I could not understand his fear.
But I was delighted by the hut itself.
The snow and rain could not reach me there. The floor was dry, and the fire made the air warm.
To me, this tiny shelter seemed like paradise.
I quickly ate what the old man had left behind—bread, cheese, milk, and wine.
The wine tasted terrible to me, so I left it alone.
After eating, I was so exhausted that I curled up in some straw and fell asleep.
When I woke, it was noon.
The sun was shining brightly on the snow, and its warmth felt wonderful.
I decided to continue my journey.
Before leaving, I put the remains of the old man’s breakfast into a small bag I had found.
Then I walked across the fields.
I traveled for several hours.
At sunset, I reached a village.
I stopped in amazement.
I had never seen so many buildings together.
There were simple huts, neat little cottages, and large houses.
Everything fascinated me.
I saw vegetables growing in gardens. I noticed milk and cheese sitting near the windows of some cottages.
My hunger returned immediately.
I approached one of the better-looking houses and went inside.
I had barely stepped through the door when the children screamed.
One of the women saw me and fainted.
Suddenly the entire house erupted in panic.
People shouted and ran.
Some tried to escape.
Others attacked me.
Stones came flying through the air.
I was struck again and again.
Terrified and badly hurt, I ran away from the village and did not stop until I reached the open countryside.
I found a miserable little shelter and crawled inside.
Compared with the beautiful houses I had just seen, it was barely fit to live in.
But after what had happened, I was grateful for it.
The shelter stood beside a neat, pleasant-looking cottage.
I was tempted to enter the cottage, but I remembered the villagers attacking me.
I was afraid to go near them again.
The little shelter was made of wood and so low that I could barely sit upright.
The floor was simply bare earth, but at least it was dry.
Wind came through countless cracks, yet the shelter protected me from the snow and rain.
I lay down inside.
For the first time since leaving the forest, I felt safe.
Not safe from nature.
Safe from people.
When morning came, I quietly crawled out of my hiding place.
I wanted to examine the cottage and see whether I could remain there.
The shelter was built against the back of the cottage. A pigsty stood nearby, and there was a small, clear pool of water.
One side of the shelter was open, which was how I had entered.
I decided to close every opening with stones and pieces of wood so no one could see me.
I left just enough space to move the barriers whenever I needed to get out.
The only light that reached me came through the pigsty.
It was enough.
I cleaned the shelter and covered the floor with fresh straw.
Then I saw a man in the distance.
Immediately, I hid myself.
I had not forgotten what had happened in the village.
Before hiding, I had stolen a rough loaf of bread and found a cup.
The cup allowed me to drink more easily from the clean water flowing beside my shelter.
The floor was slightly raised above the ground, so it stayed dry.
And because the shelter stood close to the cottage’s chimney, it was surprisingly warm.
I decided to stay there until something happened that forced me to leave.
Compared with the cold forest, this miserable little place felt almost like paradise.
I had escaped the rain-soaked trees and the freezing ground.
I ate my breakfast happily.
Then I heard footsteps.
I froze.
Through a crack in the wall, I saw a young woman walking past with a bucket balanced on her head.
She was young and gentle-looking.
Unlike the rough country people I had recently encountered, there was something calm and kind about her.
She wore only a simple blue skirt and a plain linen jacket.
Her fair hair was braided, but she wore no decoration.
She looked patient, yet deeply sad.
She disappeared from my sight.
About fifteen minutes later, she returned.
This time the bucket was filled partly with milk.
She seemed to struggle with its weight.
Then a young man approached her.
His face looked even sadder than hers.
He said a few quiet words.
Then he lifted the bucket from her head and carried it toward the cottage.
She followed him inside.
A little later, I saw the young man come out again.
He carried some tools and walked across the field.
The young woman remained busy around the cottage, sometimes working inside and sometimes outside.
I examined my shelter more carefully.
I discovered that one of its walls had once contained a window belonging to the cottage.
The glass had been covered with wooden boards.
But one of the boards had a tiny crack.
Through that crack, I could see inside.
There was a small room.
It was clean and whitewashed, but there was very little furniture.
An old man sat beside a small fire.
He rested his head in his hands and looked deeply unhappy.
The young woman was cleaning the room.
After a while, she took something from a drawer and sat beside the old man.
Then the old man picked up a strange instrument.
He began to play.
Beautiful music filled the room.
I had never heard anything like it.
It was even more beautiful than the songs of the birds.
I watched in complete silence.
The old man’s silver hair and gentle face filled me with respect.
The young woman seemed to love him deeply.
As the old man continued playing, tears appeared in her eyes.
At first he did not notice.
Then she began to sob quietly.
The old man stopped playing and said something to her.
She immediately put down what she was doing and knelt beside him.
He gently helped her to her feet.
Then he smiled at her with such tenderness that I felt something strange happening inside me.
I had known hunger.
I had known cold.
I had known pain.
I had known the pleasure of warmth and food.
But I had never experienced anything like this.
It was both painful and beautiful.
I could not understand it.
The feeling became so powerful that I could no longer watch.
I pulled away from the crack and hid myself in my shelter.
Soon afterward, the young man returned.
He was carrying a large bundle of firewood on his shoulders.
The young woman met him at the door and helped him carry the wood inside.
She placed some of it on the fire.
Then the two of them moved to a quiet corner.
The young man showed her a large loaf of bread and a piece of cheese.
She seemed pleased.
She went into the garden, gathered some roots and vegetables, washed them, and put them into the pot over the fire.
The young man returned to the garden and began digging.
He worked there for about an hour.
Then the young woman joined him, and together they went back inside.
The old man had been sitting quietly while they were gone.
But when the young couple returned, his expression became happier.
The three of them sat down to eat.
Their meal did not last long.
Afterward, the young woman returned to her work around the cottage.
The old man went outside and walked slowly in the sunlight, leaning on the young man’s arm.
I watched them carefully.
They were so different from each other.
The old man had silver hair and a gentle face filled with kindness.
The young man was slim and graceful, with handsome features.
Yet sadness seemed to weigh heavily on him.
After a while, the old man returned inside.
The young man picked up a different set of tools and walked back across the fields.
Night soon fell.
I was amazed to discover that the family had a way of keeping the room bright even after the sun disappeared.
They lit candles.
This delighted me.
I had been afraid that darkness would end my pleasure of watching them, but now I could continue observing them through the night.
The young woman and the young man spent the evening doing various things that I did not understand.
Then the old man picked up his musical instrument again.
He played the same beautiful kind of music that had fascinated me earlier.
When he finished, the young man began making sounds of his own.
But his sounds were nothing like the old man’s music.
They were slow and monotonous.
They did not resemble the songs of the birds either.
At the time, I had no idea what he was doing.
Later, I learned that he was reading aloud.
But back then, I knew nothing about words, letters, or language.
Eventually, the family put out the candles and went to bed.
I remained alone in my hiding place, quietly watching the darkness.
I had entered a world I did not understand.
But for the first time, I was beginning to learn what it meant to be human.