When I awoke, I found myself in a dark room, bandaged. I had no idea how I got there. I was lying on a bed. I looked around the room. It didn't look familiar to be. I tried to sit up, but felt a wave of pain run through my stomach. I wondered how my stomach had gotten hurt. I looked down at it and saw it was covered with bloody bandages. How had I been injured, I wondered. I tried to remember, but my head hurt and I couldn't think of anything. I couldn't remember any further back than this moment. I saw that near my bed was a window. Outside, I saw that it was dismal and raining.
On the other side of the room, a door opened. A man came in, with rather long, blond hair, carrying a tray. He looked at me and smiled.
"Hello Davy," he said. "How are you feeling?"
I eyed him suspiciously and decided not to say anything. I shrugged and looked out the window.
"I brought you some chicken soup," he offered. "Do you feel okay to eat it?"
I looked at him and then at the soup. Tentatively, I took the spoon and began to slurp it up. It wasn't very good, but it was food. It might be the only food I got in a while, I thought, so I'd better drink up. Unable to stand the temptation any more, I finally opened my mouth.
"Can I ask a few questions?" I asked.
"Sure, Davy, anything," the man said.
"Who are you, where am I, and how did I get here?" I asked.
"Are you okay?" I heard a voice ask. I nodded.
"Why-why can't I go home?" I asked, my voice cracking.
"I don't know, " the voice responded.
"Who are you?" I asked, my sightless eyes probing the darkness.
"My name's Micky," the voice said.
"I'm Davy," I said. "Tell me something, please. What does this place look like?"
The question surprised him, I could tell somehow. "Can't you see?" he asked.
"No," I replied. "My eyes aren't working."
"Any idea why?" he asked, unsure of what to say.
"I- I don't know."
"Davy, I'm your friend, okay?" he asked. I nodded. "Please trust me that everything I'm going to tell you is the truth, okay?" he said. I nodded. "Nobody here is going to hurt you, all right. Nobody at all. We're all friends. You can trust me on that." I nodded. "Now, wait here, and I'll be right back." I heard his footsteps leave the room and the door close behind them.
"Just that. His eyes, as he put it, aren't responding. I don't know why," Micky replied.
"But there's no reason for that," Peter said. "His eyes weren't hurt at all."
"Can you be certain, Peter?" Mike asked. "Can you really be sure?"
"Mike, whatever reason for this happening to him it isn't totally your fault. I'm certain of it. You have to believe that."
"How can I when I know that I've hurt him. I hurt you, I hurt him, I hurt everyone. That could have caused this. "
"I'm just glad that you're back to normal, Mike. I don't care if you've inflicted physical harm on me or half the country. You're you, and that's what I care about."
Mike lowered his eyes. "Peter, I can't live with this. I can't live with hurting you and Davy, of making him be this way." He stood up. "I've got to get away. Please. Just don't follow me this time. Please. I have to be alone for awhile. "
"Mike, you can't..."Peter began, but it was no use.
"I can, and I will, Peter. I need to do this. Let me. Please."
Reluctantly, Peter sighed and nodded. He knew that Mike needed to get away, but with out him, it could all go to chaos. With Mike under pressure, though, it could end up even worse. He and Micky would have to manage on their own.
"All right Mike, but promise me you'll be back," Peter said.
"I can't promise that, Peter," Mike said. "But I can promise to try." Peter nodded. Mike turned to Micky. "So long, buddy."
"Mike, don't go. Not without seeing him."
"I can't Mick. That's why I have to go. To build up my courage to see him again." Micky nodded and grabbed Mike around the waist, hugging him. Mike was startled, but then returned the hug.
"Thanks Mike, " Micky said. "Thanks for protecting me when I was scared." Mike nodded.
Then Peter hugged him. "Please try Mike," he said. "Please." Mike nodded. Then he turned and walked out of the room. Peter heard his footsteps walk across the floor and then heard the door open and close. He sat down, put his head in his hands and then looked up again.
"Okay Micky, lead me to him. Let's see what's wrong with his eyes."
I heard another pair of footsteps in the hall. But it wasn't just one, I realized. There were two pairs of feet outside. I wiped away the tears that still wet my face as the door opened and the footsteps came in.
Micky's voice spoke to me. "Davy," he said. "This is Peter. He's going to look at your eyes." I looked up into the darkness. Then I heard another voice.
"I need to see your eyes," he said, grabbing my chin gently. He moved my head and directed it toward his own face. I sensed a light on my face, and I knew that he was shining a light on my face. "Your eyes are reacting just as they should be," he said. "The pupils dilating along with the light. It's probably psychological."
"I really can't see," I said. "How would you like me to prove it to you?"
"I believe that you can't see," he said, calmly. "But there's no reason for it. That means that something must have scared you enough to stop your eyes from working." I struggled to accept this theory.
"Well, of course something scared me," I said, feeling the tears start to come again. "I want to go home. I want to see me mother an father again." It was no use, and the tears flowed down my cheek faster than before. "Why can't I go 'ome?" I sobbed.
"Easy, pal. It's okay," Micky said. I felt his arms around mine and I sobbed into his shoulder.
