yet to be named

It’s night time in the city. Cold. Dark. Silent, except for the rain slamming into the windows and shutters of the buildings surrounding me, eating its way slowly into my small room. It’s nearly midnight. No sleep again. I know that somehow my body doesn’t need sleep now, but I’m still incredibly tired. My bed has been tidy for three days now. Haven’t slept since then. Well, no rest for the wicked, they say. That’s probably why the bad guys are always so pissed in the first place, i guess. Trust me, no sleep for three days and you begin to get more than a little grouchy. I'm just glad I've got no one to take it out on. Haven’t been to see a doctor yet, but in this city it’s no wonder. They’d do anything for a buck, and they wouldn’t know a common cold if it punched them in the face. In this crappy city, you’re better off staying sick than taking whatever they try to pass off as medicine. Still, I’d like to know what’s wrong with me. No nightmares, no pain. Just this maddening hunger. Nothing makes it better, and it gets real bad if I eat anything. It feels like a cramp, only worse, like there’s a freezing cold iron band around my stomach, painful when I’m hungry and excruciating when I eat. I’m sitting next to the rain–splattered window, staring out at the deserted roads and closed shops. Even though I know that in a few hours, people will flood the walkways like the water flowing down the gutters; it’s still a lonely place. Night goes slowly when you’re awake. I’m starting to enjoy it though. Peaceful. No one to talk to, but I prefer it that way. The darkness is somehow comforting. So is the rain. I sit and watch for hours, and eventually the sun comes up and suddenly it's not so empty anymore. Then it's completely full. I stay in my room while the sun climbs higher and tries to punch its way through the boiling clouds. Rain slows people down. I watch as they make their way forcefully through the streets, avoiding each other and doing their best to stay dry. Not all the city is like this. I live in a quiet part. With decent buildings and good food and people who mostly keep to themselves. This is the exception to the rule. If i lived in any other part of the city night time wouldn't be so quiet. I've visited other places through the city. Didn't stay long. The night was shattered by screaming, gunshots and sirens. That's the rule in this city, as opposed to the exception. The rain slows and stops. The clouds crawl off grudgingly, and i close the blinds. Sunlight is too bright for my eyes at the moment. I lie on my bed in the dark room and think for awhile. I've got all the time in the world.