Translucent

Amsterdam

~ One Shot ~

Amsterdam was a city without limits, but also without mercy.

Bicycle bells played their constant song, along with a lingering scent that engulfed the streets - and he loved it all with a child-like innocence.

Blissfully unaware, red-lined windows surrounded the raven haired boy. Lost in what was freedom to some, while sin to others.

Dark paved streets like all the rest, beauty turned to treachery as night fell. Having lost his way twice, he wandered into the first doorway he set eyes on. A wrong, or perhaps life changing decision.

"What can I get for you, sweetie? You don't seem like much of a local."

Eyes wandered to a lollipop stick between a pair of full lips. Her voice was throaty. Monotonous, as though she had ceased to see the wonders of this city a long time ago. That could have been the case, he realised. It was a cruel business.

"I'm lost."

She twisted her mouth, letting the lollipop fall to the ground. "Not here for the night of your life, then?"

He shook his head. The girl looked merely annoyed with his presence.

While the beauty of Amsterdam was unquestionable, this girl was something different. Raw, intimidating, and in no way pure, but she was beautiful.

Bold. That's what he was feeling when the next question spilled past his lips. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Darling, that's not necessary. I'm just Her, to all of you." The sound of Her retreating red heels reminded the boy where he was.

"It's all I'll ever be."

Right then, five simple words held regret. But most of all bitterness, unattributed to someone of her young age.

He left without another word.

The girl didn't turn and run after the stranger, she carried on with her job. The boy did not pause to ask for Her, to listen to Her mourn a wasted life, he booked a room in a nearby hotel.

And the two would have never met again, had it not been for a curious bridge discovered by accident, forever holding locked promises of couples, lovers, friends.

It was daytime, a week later. The raven haired boy was acquainted with the workings of Amsterdam, an amateur in finding his own way around. Hundreds of padlocks flickered in the sunlight, rusty or brand new, some with engravings., others with hastily scrawled messages.

They all meant the same thing, though, and he deemed it a suitable gesture. The girl hadn't left his mind.

That night, he found that same doorway, but this time with meaning. She wasn't there.

So he waited.

"Any reason for you hanging here?" It was a new woman, resembling a receptionist, he thought. "Not that I mind a handsome guy like you but no one comes here for nothing."

A padlock weighed heavily in his pocket like a constant reminder. "I'm waiting for someone."

"For who?"

"For Her."

She rounded a corner, stopping in Her tracks at the sight of the boy. Her cheeks were streaked with black. Her face weary, silently screaming for a way out of the place. She was different that night.

"I'm taking Her with me."

And he took Her hand, lending his simple black jacket to shield Her from much more than the breeze that evening.

She never spoke, never felt the need to. Not until they halted near the bridge. Not until he let go of Her hand to walk towards the cluster of padlocks and she followed.

"What are you doing?"

The boy merely glanced up. "Think of what you want now. Anything in the world."

"Why are you doing this?"

He smiled. "Please, think of whatever you wish for the most. Just do this one thing for me." The boy's eyes glistened, true in the belief that even the most broken thing could be fixed.

He wasn't giving up on Her. "Please."

So she thought.

Light pooled from a nearby street lamp, catching every hesitant moment on her face, every discarded idea, until her mind was set on one. She gave him a nod.

He grinned even wider, taking the padlock from his pocket. "Thank you." An empty spot seemed perfect for another hopeful wish.

"You can take my words for this. Whatever you wished for - it will come true, whether it's tomorrow or in a year's time."

She knew it would. Without saying another word, the girl stood back and watched, letting herself fully trust this boy's words.

He closed the padlock.

That night, a raven haired boy rested soundly.

That night, Amsterdam heard a silent plea for death.