I pulled out a cigarette from the box in my top drawer before opening up the small window on my bedroom wall. As I opened the window the cool midnight air immediately whipped around me nipping at my pale skin through the thin top I was wearing. After my body had adjusted to the harsh winter wind, that I still hadn’t quite gotten used to, I slowly swung my left leg over the edge before pulling the other one over and sitting down on the ledge. I looked down at the city life, my bare feet swinging slowly below me as I took a drag from the cigarette instantly relaxing my body as I rested my head against the frame of the window. The full city was in my view as I sat from the window of my apartment on the 18th floor. The streets were completely quiet apart from the faint sounds of engines below in the quiet traffic. I always came out here when I couldn’t sleep, which was almost every night since I had moved here. The nights were so beautiful here, the stars shining bright in contrast to the dark sky. It felt weird to see the usually busy city streets so quiet at the late time of night. I moved here about a year ago at the start of summer to start a new life. Ever since I could remember I have dreamed of going to London so one day when I was fed up with New York I just decided that I needed to get away and London sounded like the perfect place to escape. After finding this apartment I packed all my things and was on the next plane here that I could find.
Once I had taken the last drag of my cigarette I threw it down watching it fall made me feel a bit uneasy as I suddenly realised how high I was from the ground and the impact that a simple slip could lead to. I carefully climbed back inside shutting the window after one last look over the peaceful city. My feet softly padded against the wooden floors as I sat down on my bed pulled out my sketchbook and pencils from a small box underneath it. I began to sketch the beautiful view of the city while it was still fresh in my mind. All of the lights, buildings, the calm night sky, Drawing has always been a big part of my life. My dad was an artist as well, and when I was young I used to sit in his art studio and tell myself that one day I was going to be just like him when I grew up.
A sudden bang from the hall outside my room disturbed my thoughts. No one was ever up at this time on a Wednesday night, well at least not that I had ever heard. Slowly, I placed the sketchbook and pencils back in their box underneath my bed and quietly began to tip-toe through the apartment to the door, opening it just enough to give me a small view of the poorly lit hall. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting to see but this sure wasn’t it. On the opposite side of the hall from me sat a young man, maybe even a teenager, who looked to be about my age with his head in his hands silently sobbing. I had seen this boy before, quite a few times actually. He lived across the hall from me and every morning that I would go out I would see him sitting in the cafe next to the door on his own with a sketchbook and pencil. We always saw each other but neither of us had ever said anything to the other. I had thought about approaching him quite a few times but could never quite bring myself to do it. He seem to notice my presence as he wiped his tears and stood up, his height towering over mine. I noticed the blood dripping from his bruised knuckles, obviously having just come in contact with the wall where a large hole was now indented in to it. My eyes trailed up from his knuckles to his eyes which were already locked on mine. They were a beautiful colour of green and I found myself not being able to look away.
“You don’t sleep very much, do you?” his deep husky voice interrupted my thoughts, still not taking his eyes off of mine.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, genuinely confused. How did he know that I couldn’t sleep very much? The closest I’ve ever had to an interaction with this guy was when we would stare at each other when I walked out of the building in the morning.
“I always hear you walking around your apartment at this time, I can’t sleep either.”
“Why’d you punch the wall?” I asked avoiding the fact that he couldn’t sleep either and could hear me walking around every night and I never heard a single sound from his room.
