A/N: I'll write a longer Author's Note at the bottom. This fic is basically a poem-ish thing about Iggy's blindness. It may seem slightly over-dramatic for Iggy, but if you think about it, in the second book when Iggy gets upset when they couldn't find his parents, he really started showing his true feelings about being blind, didn't he? So I guess this fic is kind of an extension of that. You don't need to have read the second book to understand this, or anything.

Enough talking. Onto the story, poem, thingy…

This is rated T for some mild language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

Five Questions, No Answer

Who?

Who just strolled into the room? Who is that man talking? Who is that woman I can feel staring at me? Who's trying to kill us now? Who's trying to help us? Who are you? Are you good or bad? Are you an Eraser? Or a whitecoat? Or just Max. I don't know. Listening to footsteps is harder than you think, you know. And I can't always just walk up to some random person and touch their skin to "see" who they are, because there's always the chance that they're just some random person. Or some random person trying to kill us. It happens quite often. Who's that behind me? Who's pinning me down? Punching me? Who's chasing us? Who's shooting at us? Who in the world wants us dead? Who in the world wants us alive? I don't know. Ask someone who can actually see. It affects these things a lot more than you know. But I guess you wouldn't know. Who are you? Heck, who am I?I don't even know anymore.

Who would do this to us? To me?

What?

What's that cold thing prodding at my head? The barrel of a gun? Figures. Or is it something else? I won't know unless you tell me, guys. Don't leave me in the dark. What are you all staring at? What's making you gasp? What's making you cry? What's making you so mad that it causes you to curse? I don't want to wait. I HATE waiting. I HATE having to be told everything. If you guys even bother to tell me, anyways. You act like I'll know what's happening by the way you react. Ok, you're crying. So how am I supposed to know what that means? Did someone die? Or did Angel loose her damn bear again? The possibilities are endless. And while I'm trying to figure out what happened, you're already onto the next step. And I'm left behind, forced to get caught back up, and lost all over again. What does it feel like, to fly with sight? Is it that much different from flying in the dark? Are the views really that amazing? Every time Angel screams "Wow!", I'll never know what she's 'wow-ing' at. What does he look like? What does she look like? What do I look like? Don't expect me to know. What's happening now? I wouldn't know. I know a lot less than you think.

What did I do to deserve this?

Where?

Where the hell are we now? Where the hell are we going? Where the hell is everyone? If you don't bother to tell me, I won't know. Please don't leave me again. Please don't ever leave me. Don't go away. Don't die. If I don't have you, I won't know who I am anymore. I won't know anything. I'll loose everything that's important to me. I'll loose myself. Where are you? Don't go. Please, help. I don't like not knowing where things are. It takes my days; weeks even, to know my way around one house. If you told me, if you helped me, if I had you here, heck, if I could see, it would take me minutes. Where am I? Where are you? I don't want to get lost. Darkness is all I ever see, ever. When it's dark for you, do you ever feel lost? When you can't see a goddamn thing? Yeah, that's what it's like for me. All the time. Now you see why I need you? Where is the enemy? Pain that explodes out of the darkness can be startling. I need to know these things, guys. I'm always in the dark. Always.

Where along this dark path did I loose myself?

When?

When did this happen? Sometimes you loose track of time when everything is dark. Always. All the time. When did we decide on this? And how come I didn't know? When is nighttime? When is daytime? It all looks the same to me. I'm only going by what you tell me. Heck, if you tell me it's time to go to bed at noontime, I would probably believe you. Now, isn't that sad? When are we attacking? When should we leave? Here's a good one: when will we die? Believe it or not, you may no sooner than I do. A bullet speeding towards your chest? Or even mine? You'll see it long before I will. Trust me.

When will this nightmare end?

Why?

Why did this have to happen? Why are we being hunted? Why are we safe for now? Why are we all doomed? Why is the grass always greener on the other side? I don't think how green the grass is makes a difference, personally. Why are we laughing? Why are we crying? I'm just following along, trying my best to keep up. Too bad my best isn't good enough. Why us? Why me? Oh, we're suddenly famous? Or suddenly on our deathbeds? Why? That's all I want to know. Is it too much to ask for? It doesn't take too much time to explain these things, guys. Or does every second you would waste explaining something to me have to be used on something else? Why? Damn, I feel like a 5-year-old. Why, why, why, why, why? Why, mommy, why? Why leave me behind, why give me up? Why stop loving me? Am I that different? Wait, not answer that one. I don't even want to hear it. But, oh, god, why? Why, damn it, why?

Why did this have to happen to me?

I guess I'll never get an answer.

A/N: Yeah, I know it was short, and I know it wasn't that good, and I know everyone is like "Ok, that was ok, I guess, but UPDATE 'I REMEMBER', ALREADY!" Well, I'm sorry for it being short and not so good. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. And I'm also sorry I haven't updated 'I Remember' in a while. I've been really busy with High School stuff (Ahhh! High School!) Plus we've had some, eh, family problems recently that keeps me from using my laptop. I barely had time to write this. So I'm sorry if you hate me right now.

Reviews? They make me really happy! =D

Thanks for reading! Tell me if you like fics like this, and I might write more in the future. It was actually pretty fun.

~blue-eyed-cow