He doesn't sleep more than a few hours. He doesn't know why, only that he's never been able to let the night get to him. The house isn't big enough to contain his thoughts. It's on his mind every day. The pain only comes when he tries to rest. He tries to fill his time with self-improvement activities. It's three in the morning when he starts running. It's the best time to go running, no one bothers him when he goes out. The house sleeps. He opens the door so that the house remains asleep. He likes to run; it's the only thing that keeps him going. He tightens his shoes and takes the time to stretch. The cold of the night begins its journey. He runs blind; no pre-established path, he simply chooses a direction and goes. He goes down the road and through the park; up the hill and past the school. The road becomes dirt and the houses become corn. The city lights are nothing but a long shadow. Nothing but the thought of what he is trying to forget. He searches for nothing and does not look back; forget the path he has taken and move on. Here the world is a place where he can discover, where he can be himself and not worry about anything. The pain makes no noise out here, away from everything. It stops. The wind cools his sweat. He sits and watches the stars disappear. He forgets where he is and lets the peace of nothingness descend upon him. Other runners approach and decide to join him in the grass nearby. He welcomes them with a serene smile. They look at him and wonder what he is doing. With a mouthful of grass they continue to make sure it doesn't harm them. With his white tail held high they continue their run and he decides he has rested enough. The night air changes and becomes humid. The clouds cover the moon and he knows what's coming. The first drop hits his nose and the second drops on his chest. The drops start out small, but within minutes grow to the size of jelly beans. He doesn't care because he knows there's nothing he can do about it. Without moonlight, the night becomes very black.