Waking Up Blind

By: Edna Baudelaire

Oneshot Number: 5

Note: I've always wanted two write this oneshot. I decided to rewind a bit, to those precious moments Iggy had before he had his eyesight taken. So don't be confused in the beginning. Here you go:

Iggy's POV

I grudgingly wrenched my sleep ridden eyelids apart. Small, decadent rays of light, leaked in through the barred window in the corner. Creeping farther toward the door of my cage, I kept my eyes fixed on the light, thankful for something, anything that differed from the usual artificial light that filled every space in this Hell. I could hear the others around me, breathing slowly, each one light and even. Again, I was the first, and only one awake.

I reveled in the silence, enjoying the miniscule sunlight. My miniscule sunlight. I looked around. No one else was awake. I had the light all to myself. My chapped lips, cracked with dirt and grime, slowly rose into what I thought was a smile. I couldn't really remember what one was anymore...

My hand slowly crept through the bars of my cage, and the light cascaded over my fingertips. I rotated it, staring as the light flowed like water, from one finger to the other. It was so beautiful, and right there, within my reach. But no matter what, my delicate fingers refused to capture it. It was free.

Unlike me.

My hands retreated, gripping the bars of the cage, each finger, it's own lock. I started to tremble, the shivers racing down my spine. My eyes closed, blocking out the sunlight, blocking out my sunlight, the one thing that kept me alive.

And before I knew it, the familiar sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts. I shrank back into the cage, the cold metal biting my skin like a thousand hungry wolves. I drew my knees up to my chin and closed my eyes. Maybe, just maybe, this time I would open them, and he would be gone. Maybe, my nightmare would end, and I would wake up somewhere else, anywhere else. I would have a mother and a father, and maybe even a little sister who would drool on me, and I would just chuckle and brush it off, while she beams at me. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be the Bad Man, coming to take me away again. And maybe, just maybe, it won't be another surgery or experiment.

But all the maybe's in the world could not crumble this foreboding nightmare that suffocated me. The Bad Man bent down low, his shiny shoes squeaking on the linoleum. He leaned into the sunlight, my sunlight, contaminating it with his maliciousness. It turned dark in his presence. It wasn't my sunlight anymore, it was his darkness. It played off of his pristine lab coat, the brightness searing my irises. The Bad Man swiftly swiped a key from his pocket and slid it in the lock. As he turned it, his eyes remained locked on mine. His were hungry, and to me, he was no human. He was an animal, acting on instinct. No human could be this cruel, this distanced from humanity. His lips rose up, revealing his teeth, sharp and ready to attack. I shuffled farther into my cage, ordering my body to melt into the cracks.

"Come on," the Bad Man ordered, holding out his hand. I could see a syringe in the other and my whole body froze.

"Please-" I whimpered, my trembles rattling the cage. The room was silent. No one was sleeping anymore, no one was breathing. I looked around and met each pair of eyes. Each one of them resembled a deer in the headlights, frozen.

The Bad Man reached farther in my cage, his claws closing about my small wrist. I yelped and tried to grab on to something, but there was nothing. He dragged me out of my only sanctuary, his pincers cutting off the circulation in my arm as he locked up my cage again. He forced me towards the door, and I wrenched my head around to get one last glimpse of the sunlight, my sunlight.

The Bad Man's grip was like fire, burning my nerves to the point of no recovery. He dragged me through the artificially lit hallway, and I suddenly felt dirty compared to it. The walls were so white, so pristine, so clean. There wasn't even a speck of imperfection. I looked down at my clothes, imbedded with grime and wrinkles. My skin felt gritty and course, like sandpaper. I attempted to shrink into myself as other white coats shuffled by, the disgust prominent on their faces. I walked straight behind the Bad Man, hoping his body would shield me from the the evils that fled this corridor.

He stopped outside an unmarked door, opened it and pointed inside, as if saying "This is your funeral, not mine." Without thinking, my feet automatically shuffled inside the small room and I noticed a solitary, metal operating table in the center. I turned around , but the door was already shut, and I was alone.

Trembling, I slowly walked over to the table and sat down, the metal biting my skin. I tried to ignore it and lowered my back. There was no use in fighting them anymore. It would only end in more pain. The tears on my face turned to icicles in the frozen room, but it was beyond my control. They kept coming, flowing, freely and without order. They had no one to control them. Who was I to tell them to stop? I was just the freak bird kid. I couldn't do anything.

The door to the room opened and closed and I shut my eyes tightly, awaiting the pinch in my arm that I knew would be coming. My arm tensed, waiting. But nothing came. I cracked open my crusty eyes, focusing on a white coat waiting in the corner of the room, his eyes pleading and full of sorrow.

I opened my mouth to speak, to ask him what was going on, but the door opened again, and a team of white coats strolled in, stretching their rubber gloves, filling syringes, and arranging numerous pointed objects on a table. I stared at my reflection on the ceiling, which was made of mirror. I stared back at myself, noting the dirt, the tears. The picture crumbled as I noted my eyes, filled with terror. They looked smaller than ever, helpless. I turned away from my somber reflection, promising that if I ever made it out of this Hell, I would personally see that I would do anything I could to stay away, and never be touched by the evils that lurk within these closed walls.

Ever again.

"Hold still," One of the white coats ordered as his claws trapped my arm, holding it down on the icy table. I did as I was told and closed my eyes, relaxing my tense body. And then I felt the pinch.

And then I was gone.

…

Pictures swirled around my mind, making me dizzy, sick. I saw the mutants who were trapped around me, deers in the headlights. I saw the white coats, their noses transforming into blood-dripping muzzles, their hands clawing at my cage. I saw myself, upside down, and small. So small. But most importantly, I saw my eyes. Those eyes, that pleaded, cried, and shouted for help. But no one came. No one ever came.

I slowly cracked my eyes open, like a rusted window, and the pictures vanished into the darkness. It must be nighttime. No light, artificial or natural, found its way into my lonely cage. My hands fluttered over the bars, trying to recall exactly what had happened. I remember the Bad Man, and the lone metal table, the feel of ice on my skin, the dreaded pinch...

And then darkness.

Was I still asleep, under the influence of the drug?

No, I could feel the bars of my cage, feel the curve of my back as I sat up. I could taste the stale air in my dry mouth, and smell the others around me. I squinted in the darkness, trying to see something, anything. I looked in the direction of the barred window, where my sunlight usually streams in. It slowly dawned on me. Every night, I could see the moonlight streaming in from that window. The only time I couldn't was when there was no moon. But I knew there was a moon, there had to be. Last night, I stared up at the half moon as the others around me slept soundly. So tonight, there had to be a moon, which meant there had to be moonlight. There had to be.

I squinted hard, my breath quickening, panicking. My hands furiously traveled along the cage in the inky darkness, feeling everything that my eyes couldn't see.

"Turn on the lights," I muttered, trying to stand in my too-small cage, even though I knew I couldn't. "Turn on the lights!" Sobs racked my body and I pushed against the walls, my nails boring down on them. My fists pounded wherever they could, but I could only feel the pain, I couldn't see it. "Turn on the lights!"

"Shut up, and go back to sleep," one of my neighbors mumbled, before turning back over. It was the blonde girl, the one who always gave me hard looks, as if she was judging me, as if she was trying to take my sunlight.

"Turn on the lights!" I shouted, pounding against my cage like a frightened animal.

"What's going on?" someone else cut in.

"Turn on the lights!" I pleaded, sobs contorting my words.

"They are on!" my neighbor shouted.

I froze. The only sound in the room was my harsh breathing.

"They are not! You're lying!" I yelled, but I didn't resume trying to break out. I thumped back down, blinking madly.

"The lights are on," the boy next to me commented, his voice alarmed.

"No."

"Yes."

"What's going on?" asked a small voice on the other end of the room.

"I can't see the light. I can't see my light!" My hands frantically ran though my hair, and that's when I felt the bandage. My fingertips trailed along the material, and rested on my eyes. I furiously ripped the bandage off, only to be greeted by the never-ending darkness.

"The lights are all on. What do you mean you can't see it?" My fingers raced alone my eyelids, and over to the corners. And then I felt the stitches.

"What happened to my eyes? I can't see!"

"Let me have a look. Turn to your right." my neighbor ordered, his voice soft, somber. I did, using all of my energy to hold my head up. "There are stitches on both sides of your eyes. There's a lot of red. But..." he stopped.

"But what?" I asked, already sort of knowing the answer.

"But, you're eyes aren't their normal color. I remember, they used to be brown, almost black."

"What color are they now?" I asked, frantic.

"Fang, what does he mean-" the girl on my right cut in.

"What color are they now?" I asked again, my voice cold.

He paused before continuing. "Light blue, almost white."

The entire room froze, including myself, including time. "No."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm blind." The words sent a shock wave through my body. The numbness consumed my senses, and I couldn't feel a thing. Not a thing. Not even when the white coats came back, dragged me out of my cage, sat me on the table of ice, and commented about how their experiment failed.

Not a thing.

The only thing I could concentrate on, was my sunlight.

My sunlight.

Which I would never see again.

It was gone.

And so was I.

Tell me what you guys though. I had an awesome time writing it, and I really hope that you guys love it :D

To all the other Iggy lovers.

Edna B.