The City

• Faith Macbeth, Grade 7, Southern Cross District High School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'Write As Rain 2014' competition

They live in the city cold and bare, with rings on their fingers and knots in their hair. The people there are all unique, some tall, some thin, some strong some weak. Some beg for change on the corners, dried tears stain their pale cheeks. Their baggy jeans are ripped and hoods up, taking quick glances at the people who walk high above them. Some clutch their briefcases and are dressed up neatly, trotting along the pavement and waiting for the light to go green, tapping their feet and continuously staring at their silver watches.

The city lights are a burst of colour, blinding, yet stunning, the eyes of many. At night the city can be a beautiful place, with the billboards and lampposts shining and glimmering, causing anyone to look up and see the marvel that takes place above their heads, up in the dark sky. The buildings are huge, like brick giants. They have gloomy alleys, dumpsters and vandalism that are somehow as fascinating as the large structure itself.

Some can’t stand the city, with all the noise of blaring car alarms going off at three in the morning and drivers entering road rage zone, with the smells of two dollar hotdogs and decomposing rats and the rubbish people have thrown on the ground without acknowledgement of the harm they are doing, and especially the paperwork flying with the wind gracefully having stuck-up business men chase after them, waving their arms about trying to catch the dozens of sheets. Yet some love all of those things; maybe it reminds them of home or maybe they are just used to the qualities of the place.

But the city often has a darker side; you don’t know anyone wandering the crowded streets, you have no idea of what they are capable of, unpredictable really. People you bustle past could be serial killers, wanted for years but have never been caught. They could murder you right then and there with no-one even noticing, having no clue of your existence; after all the city is a big place. Compared to this place you are the size of a crack in the road or a blade of grass in a field that could be easily trodden on. People could get rid of you swiftly and be replaced by hundreds more in hours. But isn’t worth it?