The Tiring Sun Ice cold hands touch my face as I trace the invisible lines on my forehead. They had one once been there, three of them; but now they seem to have disappeared, as if an eraser was taken to my face and erased every flaw that had once described the persona I had once held. Of course, that was a long time ago, before the blood inside me was completely drained in one, horrible night. It was many years ago, so long I cannot remember for sure how many, but it has been at least over sixty; perhaps even a hundred. It was around midnight, the gracious moon was full and she was shining over the earth as if she was trying to be the sun. I emerged from an old, hole in the wall, bar with a beer in my hand. I cannot say for certain how many drinks I had in me that night, but I know for certain that I was most defiantly not sober. I hardly ever gotten myself wasted back then, and that night was one of the few. I had been stressed out at work that day and I had recently gone through a tough outing and then a break off with my girlfriend. I stumbled out incautiously into the darkness of the alley that broke away from the bar. I remember bumping into someone, said something along the lines of, “Excuse me,” though, I’m sure it was a bit more rude and unintelligent than that. I can recall getting pushed into the jagged and cold brick wall and that my shirt was ripped in the process as the edges of the bricks jabbed into my back. I tried to fight, I cussed, and I spitted. I remember something being whispered into my ear, something like, “You’re a rowdy little rascal, ain’t ‘cha? Well, I ain’t letting you go, so ya’ better stop strugglin’ like a mouse on a chain.” I was pushed up against the wall even more then as I felt a hand dig into my shoulder. “I’m gonna teach ya’ a lesson. It’s gonna be about not ever coming to a bar at this time a night. It gets ya’ in trouble, doesn’t it?” I didn’t have time to think over what this man was saying as I felt something dig into my neck. It felt like maggots were digging their way into my neck, nibbling and chewing… It hurt like hell; then all of a sudden those maggots turned into leeches as I felt them begin to suck on my vein, trying to fill their hunger as much as they could. My body felt limp, and my eyes felt as if they were rolled back into my head; I heard the sound of glass shatter against the ground, indicating I had dropped my beer. I grew cold as my body began to shake as it began to tremble violently. I was dropped to the ground, in a puddle of glass and beer. The rest of the night felt like a horrible nightmare. I thought I was left to die as I slipped into what seemed like a coma. I woke up hours, days, weeks, later. I have never been sure on how long I was there, pressed up against the jagged bricks, sitting in a pile of glass, but there is one thing I remember, and that is: I woke up to someone different than I was before; I was not myself, and I would never be from that point on…. I see myself as a ghost; the lack of pigment in my skin is paler than the moon herself. I seem to illuminate the darkest of rooms when I walk through them, and for this, I have not been able to sleep in years; then again, I guess my kind don’t really need sleep. We tire, but it’s a kind of tire that makes us just feel…thirsty. I slowly work the buttons on my shirt, watching as how the buttons fit snuggly in the little holes that were cut out for them; small strands of cotton stand up around the buttons. I run a hand through my slick hair, watching my eyes as the light from the bathroom enters and exits them as my hair moves away then back over them. My eyes are grey, though they use to be green; my hair is black and was once brown. I step out into my living area. I have one lonely couch sitting against the wall. A T.V sits on a small table and an xbox is hooked up to it. Over the years I have grown use to having to change and adapt to the popular things for people "my age". Many things, like video games, I have found interesting and actually fairly fun. I walk over to the windows and draw back the curtains that keep the sun out during the day. As I draw them back, the friendly rays of the gracious moon milk over my face. It is getting close to the time I that I usually leave. Tonight's the night where I need to get a fairly large catch; it is getting close to winter, and less people seem to be out during that time of the year. I pick up my keys that are sitting near my T.V; they sing a little tune as I pack them into my pocket. I look through the window just as dark clouds pass over the moon. It will be time to leave soon.