Insomniac.

What kind of man is cursed to watch as his peers escape into the sweet bliss of sleep? The man that stares blankly into the darkness, as if waiting for the very shadows to consume him. But such a fate would be considered a mercy to the man, as his eyes water and sting for hours on end. The typical human being would give in to the pain and relax into emptiness, but the man fears that if he should surrender his body his mind would also be lost. The man knows that the loss of control over his mind for just one night could result in that same night being his last in control. Such conflict between his mind and body leaves an aching few can understand; few have ever experienced. So he sits, bolt upright in the pitch black, eyes pinned on something in the room that he cannot see for the darkness. As a doctor practices medicine, the man practices patience; for many nights now he has undergone the same routine, unbeknownst to the few relatives that still care for him. So why even fight the inevitable loss of control? Who cares about him anyway? Such thoughts haven't even occurred to the man. You see, his mind was lost long, long ago...

Yet this was the night. Some people of a certain frame of mind may call it unfair, some may call it perfect. But it is on the man's 90th birthday that his body decides to overcome his mind and drag him into slumber. His eyelids flicker a couple of times, he gives a gentle sigh as if in acceptance, and lowers himself onto his mattress. Against his every will his mouth curves slowly into a smile before the shadows he has stared down for so many long nights finally embrace him and take him for their own.