Often [COMPLETED]

Diagnosed

His whole body felt numb. His skin tingled. The thin sheet of the hospital bed barely provided any warmth to ease the cold. He couldn't feel himself move.

And for a moment, no, scratch that, at that moment, and for what seemed like the next phase of his life, he felt afraid. Afraid of what would happen when the numbness dissipated, when the tingling stopped, when he could feel himself again.

He seemed different. The bandages that clung to his face were itchy and had loosened immensely, covering his newfound eyes. It smelled faintly of the sedative he was given, making his throat dry and coarse. His hands gripped the sheets, making a small ruffle sound in the silence of the room.

He wanted to rip the bandages off his face and look at himself in the mirror. But he knew that it would only make him feel worse; physically and emotionally. So he sat, frustrated, and motionless. He wished this never happened in the first place.

Creak.

His head turned towards the sound, but it was pointless, since all he could see was darkness.

Three days, one of the nurses had told him, and then you can take off your bandages.

How in the world was he supposed to wait for seventy-two hours? But then again, maybe it was better to wait. Better to not know, not know what he would feel like when he revealed himself.

Click clack click, squeak.

He felt like crying. He sniffed, gulping down his tears. His mouth wavered in an uneven line.

"They said you can't see anything."

Someone's voice. A girl's voice. Out of the blue. She was close.

"Is it true?"

He shifted in his spot uncomfortably, wishing desperately he could see. For now, he could only follow the sound of her voice.

"For now," he replied, voice rough but tone gentle, "they said once I get these bandages off I'll be able to see again."

A small pause.

"How long?"

"Three days."

"Three days huh..." her voice trailed off, and he could picture her shaking her head or biting her lip. "Me too."

His expression asked his question for him.

"Three days and I'll be out of here, I mean." She explained, somewhat thoughtfully. "That's what they said anyway. Guess we're sharing the same room."

Now he was intrigued, interested, curious. Who was she? Why was she here? Three days for what?

The girl let out a sigh, something-he guessed her shoe-squeaking against the tile floor.

"What's your name anyway?"

"Lukas." He exclaimed with no hesitation.

"Cool," she proclaimed, as he heard the smile in her voice, "I'm Jesse."