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Rated: E · Short Story · Biographical · #1998324
Reflection on Life
         The sun streams through the window and heats my sleeping cheeks as only the summer sun can in January. My eyes flutter open and take in the unfamiliar ceiling of my new bedroom, a roughened grey concrete so very different from the smooth pink gyprock of my childhood bedroom. In that moment I realise that I have made it, achieved my dream of moving away from the coastal town I called home since birth to the bustling metropolis of Sydney.

         As I swing my legs over the side of my bed, the boxes containing all I have brought with me of my old life comes into view. The unpacking can wait, today is a day for exploring! I pull on a pair of dark blue jeans and a tank top and slide on my flip flops before grabbing my handbag and heading for the door, careful not to wake my new flatmate who is sleeping in the room opposite.

         I open the door to my new world and hurry out to the tree lined street, heading in what I hope is the direction of the train station. The inner western suburb is still sleepy and quiet as I walk past an old Chrysler Valiant and laugh at the echo of my father’s words in my mind.

         “That area you are moving to is full of old Italians driving Valiants trying to pick up chicks.”

         I glance back at the Valiant and see the driver opening the car door to get in. The woman does not appear to be Italian or even European. ‘Missed the mark there, Dad’ I think to myself.

         I enter the station and approaches the ticket machine. The steel buttons feel cold beneath my warm fingers as I select my destination and feed coins to the slot. I take my ticket and look for where to go. Platform one – City via Sydenham.

         The train is mostly empty – not what I had expected – and the air conditioning is broken. It is like sitting in a tin can in the middle of the Sahara desert. I anticipated more. My grandparents had always told me that Sydney received all of the state’s infrastructure funding while the smaller towns and cities were left to rot. If this train was anything to go by it would seem that they had been jealous of nothing.

         The train pulls into another station and through the graffiti on the window the view of the Harbour Bridge is stunning. I decide to abandon the steaming train to view this iconic landmark. As I am walking through the station I am momentarily lost but quickly find my way out of the gates and towards the water.

         I do not know why I expected the water at Circular Quay to be a crystal shade of blue. I stare into the swishing cloud of brown murk below the barrier.

         ‘Just like home’ I think bitterly to myself as the image of my hometown’s harbour flashes through my mind, polluted from a century of the coal and steel industries which may have even supplied some of the materials to build the metallic mega structure I have stopped to see.

         I turn my back on the reminder of home and walk away, wandering up a street I do not know. They are all streets I do not know. The city is awake now with suits hurrying about, late for ominous deadlines, or perhaps that is just how fast people move in the city. Awakening from my thoughts I glance back and notice that I can no longer see the station or the bridge among the ocean of high rise offices and sky scrapers. Did I make a turn? I had not been paying attention and have no way to tell which direction I have come from. I am lost.

         Sitting down on the front stairs of a building and extracting my mobile phone from my pocket I stare at the battery icon as my phone switches off and dies. Google maps will be of no help. I do not know anyone’s phone number by heart, relying purely on the chilled technology that is sitting uselessly in my palm. Looking around at all the people that pass me by they all seem too busy to give directions and speaking to strangers is a deadly fear to me. Most see me as outgoing but in truth I am anxious and shy, afraid to speak to new people, afraid of their judgement.

         I finally realise what I have done. I have left behind everyone I know, everything I know. It seemed to be a great adventure all those years living in the seaside port town. Moving away could be nothing but positive, getting away from all that I despised and gaining the independence and anonymity that the large capital city provides in abundance. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that all that promise would be so lonely, so cold and so very, very grey.

         As I trudge down the foreign streets among thousands of nameless faces I wish I was home again with my overbearing mother and my father that believes all stereotypes are truth. Half an hour from the beaches that I despise, in my sickly pink bedroom that I resented all my life. I want to go home.

         “But these are the beds we make for ourselves,” I think silently to myself, “and this loneliness is mine.”

         Moving away was not always so dim for me though. A year before I had finished university and moved to 'the big smoke' I found Benjamin. We met online and started dating. At the time he lived in Bankstown in Sydney's western suburbs. The place has a bad wrap but I always found it quiet and home-like. The day we met I was coming down on the train and our plan was to visit the famous Paddy's Markets in Haymarket. I was up and out of bed at the spritely time of 5.30am and on a train to Central Station by 6.30am. Quite the accomplishment for a university student who is used to sleeping until at least 11am most days of the week.

         I sat on the train for just over four hours trying to occupy myself with essays and music so I did not get nervous. He was a great guy, this I knew from speaking to him on the phone and on instant messenger but I always get extremely nervous around new people and so here I was on a train surrounded by strangers, heading to the busiest train station in the state to meet a guy I had only spoken to online and on the phone and seen a picture of. I was scared out of my wits...and I really needed to go t the toilet. Great.

         The train stopped at Redfern. I always got a crawly feeling on my skin at Redfern. Its a stereotype and I know I should not be so judgemental of somewhere I had never visited but there you have it. I knew that Redfern was the final stop before Central and so I gathered up my photocopied readings on the French Revolution and my iPod and headed for the doors repeating over and over in my mind that I was meeting Ben at Hungry Jacks, Central Station, get off the train and follow the platform to the gate, once outside the gate walk straight ahead and he will be outside at one of the small round tables. I think I have it. I still need to use the bathroom.

         The train slowed and jerked to a screeching halt on the platform. 'Here we go,' I thought to myself as the grimy doors shuddered open of their own accord. The cool winter air rushed in clearing the air around my fellow travellers and I that had previously smelled of the nearby train toilets, urine and stale soap. I shuffled off the train with the other carriage members and made my way down the platform. I could not see any indication of a Hungry Jacks ahead, just an endless stretch of track. Wrong direction. I turned on my heel and marched back the other way, straightening my scarf as I walked against the city winter.

         I approached the gates and excavated my ticket from my handbag. The slow moving line took too long to move through the electric station gates. I really needed to use the bathroom. Maybe I had to use the bathroom because I was nervous. My hands were shaking. As I cleared the crowd on the other side of the gates I looked up at the glowing red sign ahead of me. Hungry Jacks, I had made it. I scoured the faces at the tables looking for the image I had in my mind from my computer back at home. I saw him sitting on his own at the far end of the settings in his red Holden cap and dark hoodie. My mind immediately went into business mode and I power-walked towards him with a mission. As I approached he looked up and I was confronted by his stunning green eyes. Mentally shaking my head to clear it and getting back to my checklist I pointed at him with both hands.

         "Ben, right?" He nodded. "Awesome. Stay here. I gotta pee." I almost ran towards the ladies toilet behind me. Finally, a bathroom I could use without endangering my health. I prayed with all my might that he would still be waiting for me when I had finished.

         I walked back to the fast food outlet with fingers on both hands crossed and as the crowd parted to allow me vision I saw him, waiting patiently for my return. I sighed heavily as I approached him a second time and in that moment I fell in love.

         All lives have their ups and downs, light and dark or happy and sad. The important thing to remember in the dark times, when all seems like it never get better, that the light times are coming. You will smile again, or fall in love, or find friends that will last you a lifetime. All is never lost. Hold your head high and struggle through with the knowledge that a sunshine filled day is coming for you.


© Copyright 2014 Kobe Mitchell (kobemitchell at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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