Serpent Tongue

Summary-- Chavvah was the first woman born of man and woman, child of Adam and Eve. She witnessed the death of one brother and the banishment of the other. Her words are cursed because her words killed. Rated 14A for violence and theme. Reviews welcome.

Author’s note-- This is basically a re-write of a previous story that I did on the subject. Since the events in Genesis, before the flood especially, are so vague when it comes to actual historical placement, the historical details in this story may be altered or vague as well. I will try my best to match research with theme with Scripture (as well as with fiction).

Prologue--

“Now you are under a curse and driven from the ground, which opened its mouth to receive your brother's blood from your hand.”
--Genesis 4:11, NIV

I was the first to kill Abel. I killed him with words and Cain killed him with sticks and stones. We never meant to do the things we did, but I discovered that it was no use hiding under the shadow of my ignorance for He was always watching. I taunted my brother in the field and I whispered curses into his ear as he slept. Sly serpent now crippled by the heel of God and conscience— I was the first to kill Abel.

“Abel, wake up!” I screamed, my fingers tracing the red marks on his chest, the marks my own nails had left behind. I drove a sharp piece of flint into his arm, just to see if he would yelp in pain. But Abel would not move. My gaze drifted over to the rock beside his head, the one that had struck him hard in the temple. It was not by the rock alone that caused him to lie this way but by Cain’s hand.

Abel’s face, a heap of blank stone. I was confused— why would he not move? Cain scattered dirt over his wounds, attempting to cover up the crimson that spilled forth from his flesh and into the hungry earth. But this did not fool the flies for they came anyway.

Cain had seen beasts die in the field and I had seen my share of blood. Animals would lie so still, sprawled and broken upon the earth. Their flesh would slowly turn to mud and dust and they would disappear. But Abel was not an animal. He was merely sleeping, I decided, just sleeping— a child content in Mother’s arms. He would wake up again.

We searched for an explanation but found none. Cain’s lips were pursed with worry and frightened tears washed the dirt from his face. I assured him repeatedly that it was not our fault for rocks could not kill and we could not die. But Cain ignored me—he never ignored me— and pushed me aside, running across the field and down to the river to wash his hands.

Blackest night could not even spare me from the images that plagued my mind. Often I would dream of a severed tongue resting upon my palm. It writhed and moved in vain, trying to escape, its movements ceasing to none at all. It wasn’t until I tried to speak that I realized that it was my tongue and it was black, cold between my teeth.

“Chavvah, Chavvah, why did you do it?” God asks me from inside my head. I know it is He and His voice is not angry nor is it harsh in its tone. It is a voice filled with sorrow— Adam, my father, when he discovered Abel in the field, or Cain when he realized the field was barren and denied him the fruit of his trade. My hands fly to my ears in a foolish attempt to rid my mind of sound. “Chavvah, Chavvah, why?”

I had wept bitterly, my face pressed again the merciless earth. I did not speak because I could not. It was my curse. Cain wandered the lonely world and I was denied a voice.

The sun disappears behind me as I sit here by the river. The dim expanse fades to black and I lay myself down to sleep again, facing the east where my brother fled. Little Seth holds my hand as my mother watches from the cavern. To Eve, he is Abel, but to me, he is Cain and I love him so.

I was one brother’s joy and the other’s sorrow. I was the first woman born of man and woman and they forgot me. My name means ‘breath’ and yet I took breath away— breath that was God’s and not my own. God made me mute and so my story went unheard. Tongues of vicious flame, I am brighter in the dark. And perhaps my words would be heard after all.

Author’s note-- The name ‘Eve’ is supposedly derived from the Hebrew name ‘Chavvah’, which means ‘breath’.