The nightmares each night were cruel as they brought back the feeling of being in the home he loved with his parents every night, only to rip them away from him each morning.
During the waking hours, Noah would wander the sterile white room he was in like a caged animal. The room, in comparison to the cabin, was luxurious without a doubt. The bed alone was so large it was practically a square and Noah could lay down on it in any direction and have plenty of room above his head and below his feet. There were two couches facing each other with a glass table in between and on the wall behind a tremendous bookcase that reached twelve feet into the air. The windows in the room also reached up to the ceiling and covered the entire wall. There was a separate room with a huge bathtub, a toilet, a large mirror, and two fresh towels that were so plush that Noah did not think he had ever felt anything so soft in his life. Yet, no matter how comfortable the room might be Noah had never known confinement and every day felt as if the walls that were surrounding him were slowly crushing his spirit.
The window looked out onto a world that Noah could not comprehend. For miles in every direction, all that he could see was a flat sandy world of a desert with think mountains made up of nothing but rocks with no trees anywhere in sight. It was the flatness of everything that bothered Noah the most. Gowing up in the mountains there were always the tops of the hills above him, but the flat world made the sky seem so much bigger than he had ever imagined.
In the evening Noah would watch as the sun dropped below the horizon stunned by the colors of both the desert sand and the sky above. It was the best and worst time of the day. While Noah enjoyed the colorful dance of earth and sky, he hated it at the same time because until the sun rose in the morning he would be faced with the darkness that caused the glass to reflect the room, reminding Noah how alone he really was.
There was plenty of food in the room at all times but Noah could not bring himself to eat. Only when his stomach began to ache and he felt so dizzy he could not take it any longer would he wander over to the table between the couches. The table always had food on it. No matter how much he ate, the next time he approached the table, it would be fully stocked once again. In the morning it was full of sweetbreads and fruit. In the afternoon there would be meat and cheese, then small cakes and tea in the late afternoon. In the evening there were bigger meals with rich sauces, thick slices of red and white meat, and noodles. He would sit on the couch and stare at the table when the food would just suddenly appear as if it had always been there.