One thing is for sure: Racism does NOT exist in this world.

Mom (yeah, I went back to calling her that) finally took me outside the house today, and oh-boy was it a wild ride. People who looked mostly human were actually a minority, with crazy colored hair and even odd skin color being one of the most minor changes (mutations?) I could see.

Everyone I saw was basically humanoid in shape, but aside from that it seemed to be all over the map. I saw a man and woman walking along with a toddler between them holding their hands, and none of them looked anything like the other. The man was covered in fur from head to foot, and had oversized feet (no shoes); the woman had black and white scales with a long tail sticking out of the back of her dress (it was coiled loosely around the child’s waist); the kid between them looked pretty normal, except for the fact that he was completely bald and had a series of stubby horns running along the top of his head (looked pretty cool, actually).

This made absolutely no sense to me, of course, but little has since getting on that damn airplane. So I decided to just accept it. Everyone looks different from everyone else, but nobody cares. Families didn’t seem to share any physical traits, though my walk was brief and I only saw a few dozen people. Heck, maybe it’s just our village?

Oh right, that reminds me! We definitely lived in a village, and though it seemed surprisingly well made I didn’t see even a hint of modern manufacturing. More like an old European village than anything else I could think of. Lots of stone and wood, and the streets seemed to be nicely cobbled with stones of varying sizes all carefully placed in an artistically random fashion.

I’m about a month old now, and I’m getting used to things around our place. If it wasn’t for mom’s constant presence and glowing smiles I would probably feel like a stranger invading someone’s house. She sure liked to yell at Jaws (I’m still making an effort to think of him as dad, but it’s hard), but she has definitely made the transition from independent adult to helpless infant a lot easier.

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I’ve been finding it a lot easier to focus recently, and a few nights ago I felt something shift in my mind when I was starting to drift off to sleep. The next morning I suddenly recalled the strange book that the Celestial had given me, but nothing seemed to happen. That night as I lay in my crib, however, half way between asleep and awake, I felt it shift again – and this time I tried to grab it as it moved.

Annnddd…. I blacked out.

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There didn't seem to be any lasting damage when I woke up, so, feeling a bit more timid than before, I carefully tried again over the next three days, to much the same effect. After a while I started feeling like I was trying to move something that was much too heavy. Or… maybe like I was using a fork made out of noodles to pick up a steak… As if, somehow, I was capable of getting at whatever it was, but the tools I was using were far too weak.

Was I just too young? Thinking back to what the Celestial told us, the book contained a way to absorb and refine the energy of the universe. Maybe my body was just too weak to handle that kind of strain? After thinking this I had a sudden sense that this was the correct answer – like something was communicating with me... telling me to wait...

Weird.

I decided to try again after a few more months had passed, or maybe to test it out about once a week at most. For now, I would focus on learning the language and figuring out this new world. I had tried contacting Mark a few times, but it didn’t seem to work. I wasn’t surprised; the Celestial had informed us that the link he created would be removed before we were reborn, after all.

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After another month had passed (time went by much quicker than I expected), and a half dozen failed attempts to access the Celestial's tome, my new parents had a particularly loud fight. Well, actually more like a series of fights over several days, and it was only so loud because of my purple-haired mother. I truly hope she never turns that temper on me, but dad weathered the storm like a gigantic boulder in a stormy sea. He seemed firmer than usual; he usually smiles away mom’s anger but this time he was putting his foot down.

I was starting to get a basic grasp of the language, but not nearly enough to follow a conversation at full speed, let alone a knock out argument. But the sounds were sounding a lot clearer than before, and I was picking up on a lot of patterns (nobody had really bothered going around naming things for me yet; after all, I was still only about 2 months old).

On the fourth day of the storm, the sun broke through and things were finally back to normal in the evening. Surprisingly, my big jawed father was home the next morning – this was the first time I had seen him still around when I was taken out of bed. He usually comes back later in the evening, a few hours before the sun goes down.

But that morning was completely different. I was handed off to my father after a long and startlingly subdued speech by mother, telling me a long list of things that I completely failed to comprehend. She then had a few (much louder) words for my father, to which he solemnly replied before taking me out the door and into the street.

Woah, what! I didn’t sign up for this! Mom, you are going to let Jaws just take me away! I panicked, trying to yell out for her. I got about what I expected with a series of baby noises followed by a shrill wail. Both my parents were startled, and mom let out a delighted laugh, breaking into a smile as she waved at me, tears rolling down her face. I was shocked by their reactions, my father laughing me and holding me up to his face, saying something to mother (who smiled and nodded at him in reply) before turning around and heading down the street with me held carefully in his arms.

Now that I think about it, that was probably the first sound I have made for a while as I’ve mostly been listening, eating, and sleeping. Mom feeds me so often that hunger is never an issue, and I just ignore all the other discomforts (she takes care of things before they become an issue anyway).

I made a mental note to try and be a bit more vocal, and decided to just sit back and enjoy the ride. Jaws was my dad, right? I’m sure it won’t be that bad…