Gaijin

• Taro Hagiwara, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2009

I stared at my reflection in the window, looking out at me. It appeared foreign.
Alien.
The brightly lit interior of the train contrasted with the darkening sky outside, as another day slowly came to an end. The last curtains of light, peeping from between the buildings, seemed mocking against my dismal appearance. My skin looked paler than it used to be, yet dark bags lingered, looking somewhat misplaced beneath my kind eyes. My face no longer smiled, my hands looked ten years older, and my hair didn’t look as black as it used to be.

I shifted my sight to the scenes flashing past outside the train. My life flashing past. The sun had now gone, moving on to start all over on the other side of the world. Yet there was no sunset, trapped beneath the grey, dying to escape and spread its colours throughout the sky for all to see.

As I descended the stairs and stepped out onto the streets, the ground felt hard. Concrete. Bricks. Asphalt. My feet longed for the green grass and the soft sand. I missed the big houses, rows after rows of tennis courts and the long winding cycle paths I had left behind. I dreamt of the crystal clear oceans with white sand, the wide open spaces soaked in golden sunlight. I longed for the times with friends, with family, with myself. Laughter, talking and smiling faces.

It was night.
The sky was black and went on forever, yet the stars were out of sight, replaced with lights everywhere else. Neon signs perched high on buildings, the lights from stores spilled onto the pavement and taillights dragged ribbons of red. Just one solid black. No depth, no clarity, no Milky Way. The tall eucalyptus were replaced by towering skyscrapers. The singing of birds had turned to the humming of engines. The smell of salt in the air had changed to fumes and cigarette smoke. I stopped and closed my eyes. Felt the city overtaking me. People bustling in all directions. Moving hurriedly to their next destination, as if 24 hours was not enough. It felt mechanical. No warmth, emotion or communication. The city that never sleeps.

I breathed in deeply, for a long time. Let the cool air fill my lungs. It seemed to cleanse my body of all the stress, loneliness and worries. I didn’t exhale for a long time. Tasting and savouring. As if my lungs knew they would not breathe again for a long time. For a moment, I thought I heard the waves in the sea breeze drifting towards me, but they were just cars.

Then the deafening sound of a horn. Someone pushing me away. Blinding lights in front of me. Screaming. Skidding tyres… then it all went black, like the night sky.