There was light in the room. It came from a lamp placed on a desk. Next to the desk was a bed. Opposite the bed was a bookshelf. Several books were missing from the library. A few were scattered in front of the bookshelf, some were in a pile on the desk, but one was in the hands of a boy sitting in a chair in front of the desk. The book was The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien. It was two in the morning, the boy was eight years old and he had just fallen asleep. That boy was me. Since I was very young, I have had a love of knowledge. Every chance I got, I did what I could to find out more. My thirst for knowledge was only surpassed by my thirst for pizza. When I started a book, I couldn't put it down. The scenario described above was very common. I pulled my first sleepless night before most of my peers because I was so engrossed in a book that I forgot to fall asleep. This love of knowledge does not die with age. I always want to know as much as possible. Knowledge has been the only constant in my life. My father received very unique care....