Late at night, when his father had fallen asleep, Adam would sneak across the tiny expanse of his bedroom to his closet, where he indulged in a secret he hoped his father would never find. He would lift a few pieces of assorted junk to expose a cardboard box, and when he removed the top Adam would reveal six white kittens, only a few days old.

Adam enjoyed these times the most, when his father was absent and he could be with the tiny creatures, whose eyes had not opened after six days in the world of the living. After inspecting his litter, Adam retrieved an eye-dropper and proceeded to feed the kittens, one by one. He had been doing so for the last six days, days that had seemed like Heaven to Adam. He loved all living creatures, and that was why he was terrified of his father, always afraid that he might find out, always thinking of seven days ago…

When Adam had walked into the den, holding a cardboard box. The box appeared empty, but when he put it down the grey cat inside betrayed Adam by poking her white-capped tail through the top. When his father had seen Nix’s tail, Adam knew both he and his cargo were in trouble.

Adam had taken some punishment to protect Nix from the rage of his father. In the end, though, the box and Nix ended up in the hall closet and Adam’s father returned to his room, his vow still ringing from the rafters:

I’ll take care of the fucking beast tomorrow!

On the first day, Adam had risen early, hoping to free Nix before his father could get to her. He moved quietly through the den and the hall, pausing momentarily in front of the bathroom door. The door had always looked out of place in the home, at least to Adam. The paint was peeling off, almost like the tiny flakes could not bear to remain on the surface of the portal any longer. The only crucifix in the house hung on the door, a simple wooden affair without decoration. Adam wasn’t sure, but he felt like the cross had once belonged to his mother.

But there was no time to waste, and Adam had to continue to the hall closet, where he sprung open the box triumphantly, expecting Nix to jump into his waiting arms. She would be a lovable pile of grey fur, just as she had been every day for the last month when she walked Adam home from school. Only now she didn’t jump.

Instead, Nix lay along the bottom of the crate, six snow-white kittens stretching along her belly. They nursed silently while Nix opened one tired eye and flicked her white-tipped tail in Adam’s direction.

Adam was both shocked and exhilarated. He forgot all about his father for a moment and looked in wonder at what lay before him. The power of life. Creation.

Adam was just about to pick up one of the kittens when he heard shuffling coming from the direction of his father’s room. Adam quickly moved the kittens to his closet, but when he returned to release Nix, he found her still unable to move.

The cat, from the strain of childbirth, had no more strength left in her. Adam lifted her and tried to bring the cat to a standing positing, but she refused. Adam’s father got out of bed, his feet sending creaks and moans across the floorboards.

He did not make Adam watch. All Adam saw was his father removing Nix, too exhausted to protest, from the box. That and the closing bathroom door, which slammed into place with a sickening thump, and the crucifix swayed under the force.

Then the water ran, and then there was nothing. Nix went to the curb in a black garbage bag, amongst cigarette butts and spoiled vegetables.

Adam had to move on, however, and turned his attention to Nix’s litter. His father had left after he used the bathroom, and Adam was free to inspect the kittens. At first glance they all looked the same: impossibly small, thin white hair over pink bodies, and eyes fused shut against the harsh light of the world.

Adam named the first kitten Lumos on the first day, the very same day Nix went into the bathroom. On the second day, he christened Aero, and on the third Terra. Then came Astro and Critter. On the sixth day the kittens had been in the world, he finally named the last kitten Adam. This one was developing a small patch of darker fur on the bridge of his nose, and Adam would look upon this unique feature and smile. And then he would look over all six of his kittens, and he saw that they were good.

On the seventh day, the world ended for Adam. The kittens, finally starting to open their eyes, were pulled into the center of Adam’s floor. They moved about their box clumsily, and Adam was daydreaming, thinking of ways to keep the kittens hidden until he could set them free. Remove them from the house of his father.

And that is precisely when, with Adam lost in thought, his father returned unexpected and opened the door into Adam’s domain. The trial was succinct and the verdict quickly rendered, and he once again bent over the cardboard box.

This time it was not so simple. Adam fought, tooth and nail, to prevent him from taking his kittens away. But there was ultimately nothing he could do; his father was far too strong. He dragged the box all the way to the bathroom, propping the creaky door open. The crucifix swung on its nail, back and forth, back and forth. Then the water started running.

This time Adam did watch, sobbing the whole time. He watched as the Father dipped each of the six under the surface of the water, one by one. Adam could see their limbs working to no avail through the glassy surface of the water. Soon all were gone but the sixth, Adam. When the limp body of his namesake pulled from the tub, water dripping from the dark splotch of fur on his nose, Adam snapped. His sorrow flashed into anger, and in an instant Adam was brimming with rage. He wrenched the door closed in the face of the Father, hard, and the crucifix swung back and forth, back and forth. And then Adam cast himself out of the land of the Father, never looking back.