The Patient

Eight

Next up was Olive but she still seemed pretty confident. It was clear that she was a very patient person. 

She walked in with a small smile on her face, trying to analyze Thirty-two's reaction. He glanced at her for a couple seconds, sitting up straighter before staring at me again. It wasn't great but he definitely acknowledged her more than Panda.

I still couldn't understand how he looked directly into my eyes every time. He shouldn't be able to see my. He should be looking at a mirror, at his reflection yet somehow, his eyes followed my movement through the glass, always staying on my face. 

She stayed standing a fair distance away before speaking. 

"Olive." 

He glanced at her again, a question seemingly flowing through him but again, only for a second before returning his to the mirror. 

"Olive." She repeated calmly, trying out the tactic I had used, trying to figure out how I had managed to capture all his attention. 

She pulled out the children's book I had used earlier and walked towards him a little. She placed the book in front of him and he looked down at it for a couple seconds before smiling a little. 

My heart melted at the sight as he brushed his fingers over the book. He then looked right back up at me through the mirror, a ghost of a smile still on his face. 

After about a half hour of Olive trying to get Thirty-two's interest and getting nowhere she sighed, walking over to sit on the edge of his bed. 

As soon as she did 32 was standing, hunched a little and growling lowly. 

Her entire body went stiff and her eyes opened wide as she slowly stood up. 

Once she did 32 stopped growling and straightened up, but still eyed her with a heart-stopping glare. She carefully walked over to the door, seeming hurried yet slow and calculated. She never turned her back to him, just held his eye contact before slipping out of the door. 

Well, she got his attention... 

When she came out she looked like she was about to throw up. 

"Okay, so sitting on his bed is a no no." Panda said tiredly. 

Dr. Shawl nodded, running his face as Olive trembled a little at the situation that almost went really really badly. 

*************************************

The next few weeks went by really similarly. Every time I would go in there he would place me on his lap as I tried to get him to speak. I've made absolutely no progress, the only thing he ever says is Opal and he keeps making things a little awkward for me by stroking my cheek or drawing patterns on my thighs, staring deeply into my eyes. 

The other two have made pretty much the same amount of progress. Even if I leave the room completely they have an extremely hard time getting his attention and have ended up with a lot of things broken. 

After a couple more incidents it is now very clear that no one can sit on or against his bed without serious repercussions. 

I can tell everyone is getting really frustrated with this whole thing. The weird thing is that I'm not. I love spending whatever limited time I have trying to help and teach him, even if I get nowhere its still the best part of my day. 

He always makes me laugh with his puppy dog eyes and the way he always laughs every time I try and be stern or get frustrated with him. His laugh just drains all the negative energy from me, making it impossible to be mad at him.