The feeling is familiar, one that I know well. If not an old friend then at least an old enemy that I have grown to respect. I grit my teeth and open my eyes, slowly. No. Too soon. Even the twilight is too much for me. It sears through me, it crowds round the cracks in my eyelids and forces its way in. It floods me. It uncovers me and lays me bare. Nothing is hidden and I curl up in a vain attempt to retain something of my own, something which is not open to the world. I could almost laugh; hide from something which has passed through flesh, blood and bone. Nerves. The last most of all. I slam my eyes shut. I can still feel it outside though, stalking slowly around me. It is like a feral animal, a monster from the myths of old. A ferocious beast which exhibits a low cunning, not intelligence, nothing so sophisticated. However, it knows what to do, how to play our tortuous game. It has learnt. Always I can feel it poised above me, at the slightest movement it will pounce. Devour me. Shred me. It will destroy me yet I will remain. Like Prometheus chained to the rock I face my tormentor anew each day.
         I lay still for hours. I know time passes even in my black abyss by the feeling of the sun moving across my body. When night comes I begin to feel cold, but I dare not shiver. Once a policeman approaches me and prods me tentatively with his nightstick. I grit my teeth. �Damn drunks,� he mutters, moving on. I cannot move, not yet. To move now would be to throw it all away, but the beast is tiring, losing interest. Soon I will be free for a spell, free to regenerate slightly, but not enough. Never enough. Too little time. Each time I am weakened a little further and soon, inevitably, there will be nothing left. I search around with my mind. He is gone.
         I get up hesitantly, timidly I regain my feet. The headaches have been getting worse. I head down the street. I look at the street sign, I�m not far away. I�ve got to see her. Explain things. I�ve got to. Each step takes its toll, I wade rather than walk. I never falter though. I can�t. I won�t. I pass on. Past sleepers and dreamers I walk, wide awake. They don�t understand but she will. I�ll tell her and then she�ll tell them all. They�ll all know. It won�t be a secret anymore, people will be prepared. I�ll soon be there, the next street. I know it well. I know the trees lining the road, great branches spread like protective arms. I feel safe here. Safer anyway. I know the crumbling pavement; I dodge the cracks without looking or knowing. A childish game which, when I notice it, comforts me. Soon, two more houses. NO!
         I must. I won�t, can�t stop. There�s no time. I can�t wait for it to leave this time. I stride on and close my eyes to lessen the crippling pain. The beast has me�.
�The b�ea..st�it�s�.�, someone must hear, must know. It�s oblivion. It�s a friend. To me at least. I stumble on past sleepers and dreamers. I am wide awake and so the beast stalks me.
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