I am alone.
Standing here on this platform, one large bag to my side, I stand with multiple people.
But in reality, despite their company, I am alone.
Minutes before, a woman, skin a caramel brown and black hair in long dread locks, had been talking to me earlier. The thing she told me was still resounding in my ears, but I still believed them…
When the train finally pulled up in front of me, I stepped on wordlessly, showing a conductor my ticket before he even asked. After getting his permission, I went through the rest of the train, looking for an empty compartment. It wasn't until I reached the end of the train that I got an empty one though.
I simply threw my bag on the shelf above the seat, and sat down next to the window, watching the world move slowly for the time. I felt the train start to move at a slow pace, and then pick up speed with each passing second.
Soon, I was speeding past everything in sight, the world blurring past me.
After what seemed like a long time (but was really only a few minutes) I turned at the sound of the door of the compartment opening, and I found myself staring right at a boy who was undoubtedly my age.
I know that part of me wanted to say no when he asked if he could sit down in this compartment, but I still nodded my head.
He wore a green and brown camouflage t-shirt, and a pair a blue jeans.
But his most conspicuous feature was…
"Hey," His voice took me out of my observation, showing that he was staring at me intently. "Why do you have white hair? Surely you are as young as you look?"
I gave a bitter smile back to him. "Does it show that I'm aging?" I asked with sarcasm. "It's my natural hair color." I said without the sarcasm, lifting it up for emphasis.
"You're lying." He said with a smile. "There's no way that anyone could have white hair at our age."
"How are you so sure?" I snapped dramatically, pointing at his most conspicuous characteristic. "You have green hair!"
He flushed. "It… it's natural…"
"I'm sorry, there's no way that it is natural." I looked at him expectantly. "I've never seen anyone our age with that hair color…" As soon as the words left my lips, I knew how stupid it sounded.
"…why do you have your hair in a braid?" He pointed to the braid that held my hair to the middle of my back, seemingly forgetting my last comment.
"…I don't want to say…" Suddenly I felt uncomfortable.
"Oh come on. Can't you tell me?"
I stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, getting up. "It's better if I show you…" I reached behind myself, towards my hair, and tugged off the object holding it in place. Then I stuck a finger into my hair, pulling the braid out. "You wouldn't believe me if I didn't show you first."
My hair spread out, making it spread out slightly.
The boy stared at me for a moment, not even trying to hide his surprise.
"I know." I said shortly, not giving him room to object; it all showed in his look. "I look like a girl without my braid."
"Hm… Wait. No! You don't look like a girl!"
What a load of…
He must've seen the skeptical look in my eye, because he shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Alright," he sighed, "You look like a girl."
I nodded, reaching for hair again, "Would you mind helping me get it back in its braid?"
He nodded after another moment of staring.
I turned my back to him, telling him how to help as he complied.
Once my hair was back in its braid, I thanked him afterwards, and then sat back down, watching the world go by with my hand holding my face again.
He asked me more questions (how many did he have?) after a moment.
"Why do you wear your pendant?"
"Where are you going to go?"
"Did you come here with someone?"
"What hobbies do you have?"
"What is your name?"
When he asked the last question it dawned on me that it was strange that he asked me all of the previous things but didn't even know my name. Weren't some of his questions a little creepy when you considered the fact that we had just met?
For his first question, I just lied and said I liked to wear it.
But this was, as I have already said, a lie.
I only did to preserve my own memories…
For his second question, I said, "A place called Earth." He stared at me as if I were being mean by making what he didn't know was a joke, but then his eyes became slightly stormy in thought.
"Are you going to Chikyū?"
I gave a nod as reply. He understood my joke, though my indifferent face didn't really show that I had been joking. The word 'Chikyū' was actually another language for 'Earth'.
For his third question, I said a vague but somehow at the same time blunt, "No."
He seemed fine by my answer.
For his fourth question, I joked about how that question seemed strange after the previous ones.
He flushed at that, but still I went into my bag, pulling out a weathered down notebook.
"I'm a poet." I said, holding it up for him to see for emphasis.
"Can I read them?"
I saw the curiosity flicker in his eyes, making him resemble a child. Was there any way to say no to that look?
"What? Why?" He said in surprise. "Are those love notes or something? The passing of notes from an ancient man who was long lost on his way home? The last words of the world's late best singer who died mysteriously?"
I stared at him.
He shrugged in response.
I tossed the book to him, and he caught it in surprise.
"Read to your heart's desire. I'm not the best writer though." I looked out the window again, feeling his gaze come onto me after a few moments of reading.
I could read the question in his eyes: "You wrote this?"
I pretended not to notice though.
Time went by and the sun was setting its sad and lonely gaze throughout the sky as the clouds tried to find their fallen friend, but only seeing him slowly say his final goodbye to the sky.
And even at that point, the guy across from me had been reading all the way to the second book I'd been writing in.
I had filled the books with my own writing, and he still was astonished by it.
"Where do you get these ideas from?"
I shrugged indifferently.
The only thing he actually said was bad about it was my handwriting skills.
Some words weren't as written well, so he couldn't read it as well.
But he overlooked them altogether.
I didn't like letting people read my writing; especially people I had just met. It was like being stripped completely naked in front of a crowd that started trying to study you the second they got the chance.
But I still enjoyed the silence that followed, as I had never been very fond of loud places.
When he finally finished reading, I saw that I left a piece of writing unfinished.
"These are good."
"But 'good is the enemy of great'…" I mumbled.
Whether he heard me or not, he didn't show any signs.
I expected him to hand me back the book, now that it was obviously done.
Instead he turned the page.
My eyes widened slightly, and I tried to stop him, but he had already done it.
He was shocked by what he saw.
"Did you draw this?" He saw that I was trying to keep him from seeing the picture.
I shook my head after a moment. "My sister drew that…"
"It must run in the family huh." He laughed.
I looked back out the window, turning away from him to hide the look that I suddenly had. "Yeah." I said softly after a minute.
The picture was of me and a little girl who couldn't have been any older than seven. Considering this was a drawing, you would think it was an actual photograph with strange coloring and hue. Because that's how she drew.
In the picture I was holding her in my arms, with a smile gracing my lips. Her face was buried into my chest, and tears came down her face. But it was obvious that I wouldn't let go.
But the strange thing about the picture was the fact that we were in the air, flying. And also it was strange that he, I mean I, had wings, curled around us as I almost embraced my sister.
It looked as if I were an angel.
I also couldn't fail to notice how the boy looked at the picture longingly.
"You wish you could draw like that?" I smirked.
He snapped out of his trance like state. "Yeah." He said slowly.
We stood in silence after that.
It felt different from before, though, and part of me wanted to break it.
And if you knew me well, you'd be surprised by that.
"My name's Scion," The way it was pronounced made it rhyme with the word "Eon". I held out my hand to him, and he stared back, "What's your name?"
After a moment of silence, he grabbed my hand, "Nova," He said with a smile.
We shook and I sat down after taking my notebook back.
"So…" Nova said, obviously trying to break the awkward silence that followed, only to make it even worse. "…nice weather we're having…"
"It's… it's very nice…" I lied, looking away from the window.
This was a lie.
I knew it.
He knew it.
It was pouring outside with rain at that moment.
Many things to bring up a conversation went through my mind, but just as quickly as they planted themselves there, the moment I threw them away like the balled up pieces of paper that would fill the trash can whenever I tried writing but it didn't come out the way I wanted.
I was never one to start a conversation... just listen...
"What interests you Nova?" I said at long last.
"Multiple things," He said vaguely.
I gave him a questioning glance.
"I like the world… all of the things people create and think of…"
I remembered how he looked at my sister's picture longingly, "You enjoy the arts?"
He paused for a moment, thinking about it. "I guess you could say that." He smiled.
"Well," I got up, "I'll take a detour of this place. I'm interested to see what the rest of the train is like."
I left before he could stop me.
My hands were in my pockets as I walked through the train, feeling the occasional slight rumble as the train shook. Absentmindedly, I began looking through the windows to see that we were inside the ocean, though the train had a thick layer of glass protecting it.
It was probably to make a good image. Probably one of the best I'd ever seen. Only, I scowled out at the window, I don't think the makers of the track really thought about the possibility that no one would be able to see in the freaking dark!
It was well into nighttime now, and I barely saw anything!
And when I thought of the amount of money that must've gone into this thing…
I mentally sighed, holding my head with a hand.
I wish people could be more considerate of others and their habitats…
I began walking again, thinking over the past events before I even got on this train.
After thinking on this matter for a long time, I started letting my thoughts crawl over to my sister.
In all honesty, she was innocent as a flower, and though I was her older brother, she often acted as if she were the older sibling and I was the younger one.
I would've found it cute at the time if it weren't as strange.
But thinking of it made me feel nostalgia.
Thinking back, I remember that I had made a song for her, and she always sang it, no matter how many times people told her to stop.
Absentmindedly, I began singing part of the song.
"Seeing what I have become
I see a new life ahead…
I found a way to change the end…
And now I see the world…
Show me the image of the light
Untainted with its innocence…
I live within this kindred kiss…
Wishing for another love
I can see the pain of the stars,
I can see through the plight of life…
Now I know to choose,
A path where I can never lose
So take my hand,
And never let me…
As each word was whispered out of my mouth, I began thinking more on why she always sang that song. It wasn't anything special (at least as far as I knew) and I doubt that at the time I was really a good writer at all. Now I was much better, once again as far as I knew from what others said, at writing. But she always stubbornly sang the song over and over again. Why she loved the song so much was beyond me.
My hand reached to my pendant hanging loosely around my neck, and I began fingering it.
I stopped after a moment, surprised by how far I had gone.
I was at the very front of the train car now, and some people were staring at me weird.
I turned back, starting to walk back to the compartment again.
Nova was probably getting lonely…
However, next second I heard a gunshot ring in my ears.
My calm expression, which contained indifferent blue eyes, narrowed into a deep scowl.
The train that was filled with a noise muffled by the doors now held only silence.
That was when I felt the cold metal press forcefully against the back of my head.
Slowly, I heard the revolver turn, making me sure that whoever was behind me was trying to do something.
I could now hear his finger on the trigger, and I closed my eyes at this, doing my best to breathe slowly.
That was when I heard the small click of the trigger finally being pulled.