"Then, in the dreary month of February, came the illness which closed my eyes and ears and plunged me into the unconsciousness of a new-born baby. They called it acute congestion of the stomach and brain. The doctor thought I could not live. Early one morning, however, the fever left me as suddenly and mysteriously as it had come. There was great rejoicing in the family that morning, but no one, not even the doctor, knew that I should never see or hear again."
Hellen Keller, The Story of My Life
Nico woke up from his peaceful slumber. He never truly dreamed about anything. Only at rare moments did he dream of what he remembered about the world around him. Five years ago, at the age of five, a strange illness had taken over his body. He no longer remembered what it had been called, but he knew perfectly well that it had been what had taken his sight and hearing from him. He'd come a long way from it and had tried to forget. At first, he had been devastated. He cried for hours on end about his loss. He missed seeing the trees, the flowers, hearing the music his sister often played, the sound wind and so many other things he could no longer perceive. Even the stern yet soft stare and tone of his mother while she scolded him.
He finally sat up and extended his hand, waiting for a few seconds before he felt another hand on top of his. He searched for the ring in the hand and felt the familiar symbol: a diamond. He traced his fingers underneath and felt the pattern that revealed the name of the person in front of him. Agnella, as always, was here to help him out of bed. Nico didn't really need to be gently pulled to his feet. He didn't need to be undressed and bathed. He didn't need to be dressed. He could do all of those by himself if he'd only been given the chance. Sadly, his parents were far too overprotective to let him have even just a small piece of freedom. This is what led him to the biggest problem he had: the inability to do absolutely anything he really wanted to.
Though it had been already five years since he had lost his sight and hearing, he had no actual caretaker whatsoever. Sure, he was brought to any place he needed to be by a servant and taught what he needed to know by his many tutors, but nobody could really stand to be with him. The servants had other duties to attend to, and his tutors only stayed with him for a limited amount of time, and only to give him his classes. As for his family, they were always busy as well. His father, Hades di Angelo, was an important man. He was always busy, writing documents and talking to strangers and whatever other things he did. Nico didn't have a clear idea what his father's profession consisted of. He just knew it was important and that he was not allowed to interrupt his father when he was working. His mother was almost as busy as his father, but for entirely different reasons. Maria di Angelo was the daughter of an important man. That, for some reason, meant that she had quite a few duties herself. Nico didn't understand adults. They were all always so busy and in such a hurry, he didn't want to be hurrying around, working on those complicated things his father had once tried to explain to him.
The only other piece of his family that lived with them in their mansion was his older sister, Bianca. And, as you would guess, she was always busy as well. Not only did she take 'normal classes' (unlike his own set of special ones) she also took a few music classes and dance lessons. And whatever time she had between all those things, she spent it hanging out with her friends inside or outside the mansion. Nico would rather be buried alive than admit it, but he envied his sister. She could go outside of the house and into the gardens as long as she was being supervised by a guard. She could run around the house alone or talk with her friends and share stories and experiences with them. He wanted that. All of it. Yet he wasn't even allowed to walk around his own corridor by himself. Any 'conversations' he had consisted of a set of short words scribbled on his hand and nothing more. They were far and in between and the most he had ever 'talked' was when the cleaning maid had asked him where he wanted everything in his room to be.
It wasn't like he couldn't talk though…he just didn't anymore. It was so odd to speak words when he could not hear them or even watch himself say them. So he kept quiet and said what little he had in small words, written in the palm of whoever was to receive them.
Nico was often conflicted on whether or not he wanted a caretaker. Yes, he wanted to go outside more than maybe once or twice a month. Yes, he wanted to confidently walk through his home. And so very yes did he want somebody whom he could constantly talk with. But the thought of having some adult over him the whole day felt suffocating. It was annoying enough with how little interaction he was forced to have with the cleaning maids when he was woken up, showered, put to bed and taken to eat. Having somebody breathing on his neck every second of the day was more than his sanity could take. And, oh, how he knew his parents would love that. Somebody that was meant specifically to watch his every move and make sure he is well. However, his parents were perfectionists, and wouldn't allow just anybody to take care of him. They wanted somebody with amazing skills that could understand his needs. But they could never find anyone. The people that attempted to get the part were either experts with blind people or with deaf people. Never both, so his parents just discarded all of them. He wondered how long it would be until his parents gave up on finding somebody that was willing and capable of standing Nico's presence 24/7. At least, that's what he wondered those days when he was woken up early, dressed up and introduced to a new person whom he never saw again afterwards.
Lost in thought, Nico keep looking in the direction of the window, enjoying the warm feeling of the sunlight on his face. Even if he wished he could be outside more, he had to admit his room was quite calming. Since he heavily depended on his sense of touch for just about everything, his parents had made sure to get the softest material they could find for every part of his room. The curtains were soft and silky, his bed was like the softest marshmallow cloud in existence, and even the floor was furnished with soft, fluffy carpet that anybody could sleep on as comfortably as they would sleep on their own bed. As usual, he didn't hear the door open a figure came in silently and gracefully. He did, however, feel the soft and warm hand that touched his own. Nico's hand was led up to where he could feel something cold and metallic. He gripped it and his eyes widened in recognition. The necklace held the large symbol of a clover. His mother smiled as she saw the recognition in his eyes and gave him a small kiss at the top of his head.
'Dinner time.' She wrote on his hand and held it as he got up, following her obediently. He hadn't seen her or father at breakfast or lunch, so he assumed they had left for the day and had just come back. 'How are you feeling today?' She wrote once they had both been seated at the table. 'Good' Nico wrote into Maria's palm as he always did. It's not like his life was miserable. He had a loving family and a wonderful home. He knew that. But it was never an 'Exiting' 'Amazing' or 'Extraordinary' day. It was rather dull in this darkness he had come to know so well with the years. His most exciting moments where in his morning classes. The ones with his teacher Celestina who taught him about the world he could not perceive. She taught him about animals, plants, mountains, oceans and so much more. Sure, he took other classes like writing and history, but none were as exciting as hers. She had gone so far as to actually bring him a dog for him to touch and pet. It had been an amazing day and he had been happy for days about it. He had even asked his parents if he could have a pet, maybe the company he wanted could be had by a furry companion. But such was not his luck, Hades said he would never allow it and his mood had dropped back to his normal self since.
They ate in what seemed like silence to him. At least, nobody was really talking to him, as usual. He let his mind wander as he ate, remembering what he had learned today with his tutors. Maybe he could ask Celestina tomorrow where shrimp come from, or why cats and tigers are so alike. He always had so many questions he wanted the answer to, but so little time to ask them at the end of his classes. Suddenly, a hand touched his own and he was startled out of his thoughts. Looking for a ring and finding none, he let his hand be guided once again to the clover necklace. Maria held his hand and began to slowly write on top of his palm.
'Your father and I will be gone for a few days. He has an important meeting to go to. I will accompany him.' After she finished, she smiled at Nico, even if she knew he could not see her. Bianca herself was frowning, not pleased that parents were leaving, even if for a short time. Nico decided to not comment about it and only nodded, not letting his expression show how opposed he was to the idea. He didn't like it when she or father left, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it. Maria gave her son a big smile and kissed his hand softly, sitting back down and continuing her previous conversation with her husband as they sorted out the specifics of their trip. They would be gone for three days, seeing as the trip to where the meeting was being held was an entire day away. Bianca informed Nico under the table on how long their parents would be gone. Nico didn't even need to feel for Bianca's necklace, he knew it was her, it wasn't the first time she informed him on such specifics while their parents talked. After Bianca finished, Nico quickly finished eating and excused himself from the table.
Again, a servant helped him up the stairs and took care of him until he was laying on his bed, dressed in comfortable silk pajamas. Nico waited until the servant left, turning the lights off on her way out and stood up. He knew very well he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. He always kept himself up for some time after he was put to bed to enjoy the cold feeling of the nightly wind on his skin. He remembers what the moon looks like. He remembers how the stars shone beside it and closed his eyes, trying to picture the room around him. He often did this when he was alone, imagine what his surroundings were like so he could feel a little more connected to this world he called a home. He wondered if there had ever been a person who had been born or left without any of their senses. The though alone horrified him and he quickly pushed it aside. He hoped not, he couldn't think if anything more horrible than not feeling anything at all, forever. A shiver ran down his spine and he laid on his bed, burying himself under the thick blankets as he called sleep forth once more.
This story was inspired by the biography of a woman who could not see or hear, yet still learned how to read and write. I just hope I can live up to what I wanted this story to be.