The doctor smiled as he wrote down the many different notes of how Ian has been feeling. He was indeed going to live. He had been acting sick, but the doctors were finally able to stabilize him, also being as they forced a needle into his back and gave the medicine that had caused him to fall asleep. Again, he was indeed going to live.

The doctor took his temperature and picked up his hand, instantly feeling nails dig into his arm, causing him to gasp and jerk his arm away. It was of course, Ian. He had woken up, he had felt someone touching him. He hated people touching him.

Ian had always believed there was light somewhere, he just couldn't hear it, couldn't see it. He was afraid of the darkness, when someone touched him, he believed it was something that could hurt him, he was frightened.

Ian had always wanted that reassurance that he had never gotten from his family, not even the doctors. The only senses he had were touch, smell and taste. He hadn't known what love felt like, he didn't smell the flowers that lovers always gave each other, he didn't taste the kisses that couples shared from time to time. He always felt darkness. He needed the moon to fill dark sky and stars.

He needed someone to love, to kiss, to touch. He needed someone to make him feel loved, he needed to find the one thing that could make him truly happy.

The doctor sighed as he wrote down the last of Ian's results. He rubbed his arm slowly from where the nails of Ian had dug into. "Dip shit." The doctor mumbled under his breath.

Ian just stood still, focusing on his touch. He was waiting for something to touch him again so he could strike.

The doctor sighed as he stood up. "I'm gonna get your breakfast, don't go anywhere!" The doctor snickered, he knew all of Ian's symptoms he just always treated him like he wasn't deaf.

The doctor walked out, down the hallway and out of sight. That is, if Ian could have actually seen him.

Ian slowly laid down as he inhaled the scent of bacon and mental supplies. He had smelled those two for quite some time now, he kind of enjoyed the smell, some good, some bad.

He blinked. It never did a thing but he always enjoyed acting as if he could see but his eyes were just blocked off by a dark room. He knew he couldn't see, but there's no waist in not pretending, right?

He blinked again, flashes of many things popped into his mind. He had always been dreaming of what different things looked like. He thought of the doctor as black and white cyclops with a horn. Again, he didn't like the doctor.

The doctor had come back shortly and he quickly laid the tray of bacon, eggs and a small bowl of oatmeal on Ian's lap. "There ya go." The doctor snickered as he walked out of the room.

Ian poked at his food, he slowly picked up the spoon and filled it with oatmeal, gently placing it on his tongue. He loved the taste of oatmeal, it always gave him new ideas of what things had looked like.

He also loved all the different flavors of each oatmeal packet. He was okay with the bacon and eggs, but that oatmeal was the pure gold of his life. That's why he loved to wake up early in the morning, he also wished he could see the sunshine, but of course, he couldn't.

He wanted to say something, anything. It's as if his vocal cords were destroyed in his sleep, he felt nothing in his throat. He wanted to talk about how he felt, how he saw things his own way.

He wanted to hear, so that people could describe to him the wondrous things around the world, the colors, the foods, the states and countries, the people within those places. But it was only a dream.

Ian had learned to write in his younger days, everyday he would practice the Brail code. Someone would bring him a board the had many dots on it and he would have to figure out what each one spelled out. He was a master at this point.

He stuck another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth, swallowing it immediately.

Soon enough, he was done with his bowl of oatmeal, he hadn't touched his eggs nor his bacon. They were cold by now.

He pushed the tray onto the ground as he turned on his side to pull the blankets over him. He had to go to the bathroom, but he was too focused in the darkness.

He blinked again. He got pictures of a boy. It was black and white, he had three eyes, one nose and a mouth, along with black hair. It then when straight away, he was frightened once again.

The next day, he felt the vibrations of the floor being clomped over. Footsteps. He stayed in his spot, his eyes were closed but he was wide awake.

"Who's that?" Anthony had asked the doctor as he looked up. The doctor smiled. "Why that is your roommate. He has many symptoms much worse than you." The doctor said back to the 16 year old boy.

Anthony rubbed his arm. "What's wrong with him?"

The doctor responded in a cold voice. "Many things. Disturbing things, things that I don't wanna bother helping. I would stay away if I were you. He hurts people, physically. He stays silent, he can't hear nor see. He hits and scratches everyone who lays one finger on him. My boy, do not go near him. Stay in your bed and if you are hurt in any way, shape or form. Press the nurse button, we will have him put to sleep immediately."

But Anthony didn't listen to anything, he was love struck by the beautiful boy sleeping on the small bed. He looked small and petite.

"How old is he? What is his name?" Anthony asked softly. The doctor only sighed before responding. "Ian Hecox, he is only 14 years old."

Anthony soon enough had his heart racing, just to meet the beautiful boy.