He was different, the boy in black. There was no denying that he was different. Of course, it was the fact that he was dressed in black that called their attention to him in the first place.

And how could it not? As he wandered into the town, the silver chains on his black pants jingling and music playing from the headphones tucked into his ears under his messy brown hair, he drew all kinds of attention. He was breaking many of the sacred rules that the townspeople had posted so clearly on their perfect white buildings. He had been quiet and simply looked around, confused and intrigued, at the people around him. The people of the town were equally as strange to him as he was to them. To the boy in black, they were completely bizarre, what with their unisex white clothing and uniformly short cut hair. The people in white seemed to blur together as they stood in groups, staring at the newcomer and murmuring to each other about the laws he was breaking.

The boy in black broke the silence and asked of the people in white where he was. New Eden is the answer they gave. One of the townsfolk, from the safety of his group, told the stranger that he was breaking the rules.

The boy smiled softly and asked of the people what kind of rule he was breaking. A small group of the white clad stepped forward together, and took the boy’s headphones from him. Saying nothing, the group left to dispose the forbidden device. The only explanation they offered was to point at a plaque mounted upon the white wall of a building .The boy in black looked to read the writing.

“Commandment 13: Thou shalt not listen to music, for it is the handiwork of the Devil.”

The boy in black bit his lip, forcing back a protest that their ‘commandment’ made no sense, but he merely looked back at the people in white. They were far stranger than he had first thought. He inquired in a soft, sad voice what other of their laws he had broken. They say nothing to him, directing his attention to another of the holy laws posted upon the walls of the buildings that lined the square.

“Commandment 15: Thou shalt be wary of thy neighbor”

The people in white knew they should not have spoken to this strange neighbor who did not know the rules. Everyone knew the rules, and what was the boy in black that he did not know? The townsfolk quietly asked one another to decide whether they should continue to inform the stranger, but a mention of their twelfth commandment silenced their questions. It was their duty to teach them, their sacred duty.

One among their number spoke of his clothing, and the people in white directed him to two more plaques on the walls, ones that left the stranger staring in astonishment. He could not believe these were a few of their holy rules.

“Commandment 16: Thou shalt not be enthralled with colors, for they are a distraction from the teachings of the Lord”

“Commandment 17: Thou shalt not bear the color black, for it belongs to Satan himself.”

The boy in black stared at the people of the strict society. Being at a lost for words, the stranger simply stuttered a compliant response and pulled off his offending black shirt, in hope that these peculiar people in white would understand that he respected their irrational laws even though he believed them to be very wrong.

This attempt at correcting the error, however, only brought a shriek from the people in white. The females among the groups covered their eyes and the males pointed out another commandment upon the walls. The confused boy in black once again understood his mistake only after reading the divine law.

“Commandment 14: Thou shalt not reveal thy shameful body.”

The boy stared once more and a blush rose to his cheeks. He was frustrated that he could break a rule with apparently any action, and he was a bit embarrassed for offending the obscenely conservative town. He turns his back toward the congregation that watched him as he attempted to replace the offensive black shirt back onto his disgraceful bare skin.

Another gasp rose from the mob of the white clad, and they murmured to one another about the eighteenth commandment, for upon the bare back of the boy in black a pair of grey, feathered wings are drawn. The image extended from the top of the stranger’s shoulder blades, to his waist, with the feathers at the bottom curled around his sides slightly.

“Commandment 18: Thou shalt not disfigured thy God-given body with images or ornaments.”

As the boy pulled his shirt back over his head, the townspeople approached him, taking the stranger by the arms and recited together their twelfth commandment.

“Commandment 12: Thou shalt convert the heathen and make him holy.”

The boy in black tore his arms away from the encompassing mob and stepped away. Then, he began to speak. He spoke of how their commandments were all wrong and how they were restricting harmless things. He spoke of how their Lord meant for them to love their neighbor, not to hate them. He spoke of how people were meant to accept one another’s differences and not be prosecuted for them. And, most of all, he spoke of how God loved them no matter what they did and they could be forgiven, so all the harmless thing their rules forbid did not matter.

To the people in white, these words were unheard of and treasonous. What did this stranger mean, the rules didn’t matter? He was, undoubtably, an agent of the dark one, Satan, come to tempt them. He did wear the evil one’s color and listen to his creation music. Both of those things must have been in tribute to the boy’s master. The boy in black, they decided, needed to be destroyed before he corrupted the pure.

The people in white fell upon the black clad stranger and dragged him through the town. They were amazed, however, that the person they decided was a demon did not fight, even when they took him into their church. They stripped him of his dark clothing and forced him into a wholesome, white outfit just like theirs. He was even docile when brought before their priest and blessed. The people in white did not realize that their captive had been staring, transfixed and saddened, by the eleventh commandment which was hung behind their holy man.

“Commandment 11: Thou shalt not disobey authority.”

He reeled in disbelief and allowed himself to be dragged up a hill behind the peaceful town of New Eden where, planted in the earth, were three large crosses.

The eyes of the boy widened, before he hung his head in sorrow and realization. The people in white raised him up and nailed him, through his wrists and feet, to the wood to give the intruder a pure death though his lawbreaking evil. They hung him upon the leftward cross, for the center one was occupied already.

He watched them walk away, the boy who didn’t know the rules. When they were gone, he asked of the silence why. What went so wrong that his morals became this distorted? He expected no answer.

The boy received one anyway. The young man on the center cross, dressed in the town’s white with the uniformly short cut to his blond hair, lifts his head to look at the newcomer, his blue eyes sparkling despite his position. Calling the boy Christ, the blond apologizes that he has been sentenced to death again. The young man in white then tore his feet from the nails holding them, and his hands as well. He landed on the grass of the hill with the grace of a cat, and told the boy formerly in black, the boy called Christ, that it is the fault of humanity that his teaching have become warped and soon to be forgotten.

The victim of the white clad simply stared down at the boy who looked so much like the people who had punished him. But, although this blond boy wore white and obeyed the rules, this one was different too. Tears filled his dark eyes and the victim asked why this has happened. He tried so hard to teach them what was right before.

The one who was also different laughed, and responded that ‘before’ was long ago, too long ago, because people forgot. Then, he gave a smile to the boy called Christ. After all, it happened before. And, it happened again. Now, it was his turn. The blond turned away, leaving his counterpart upon the cross to die once more.

Maybe the people of New Eden will like their victim’s opposite better. The anti of the once called Christ strode down the hill, to change the rules his way.