Between the glaring white walls and nauseating bleach smell, it was no surprise why this hospital is so empty. Far off coughs drown out beeping monitors in room 227. A young boy sleeps, seemingly peaceful, while wires peek out from beneath the blue sheets; different nurses coming in every so often to check on the poor boy with no visitors in room 227. He stirs only in his face, nurses watch the purple markings around his eyes as he winces for a brief moment and then relaxes and falls back into his deep sleep. One patient roams the halls outside of room 227, she's the only visitor the boy's had in weeks, hoping that he will wake up and be able to keep living the beautiful life she created for him in her head. A brain death looks like a coma, the brain is mostly dead and kept alive by wires and machines; the young girl leaves the boy in room 227 as a nurse comes in to check on the poor boy.