Cover pic is Rita - inspired by Helena Bonham Carter.
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Amsterdam is one of the world's most appealing and offbeat metropolises, and I was thrilled to be back after such a long time. I arrived in the very centre, standing outside of Central Station, looking around myself in awe. Memories came flooding back of the last time I was here; memories of her. But I pushed them to the back of my mind and got a tram to my hotel. I had saved up a long time for this, and I was going to make the most of it.
"Name?" questioned the man at the reception.
"Emma Slater." I responded, smiling as he handed me a key, "Bedankt." I thanked him.
When I was in the hotel, I found a grubby leaflet left on the floor and picked it up with a frown.
'Lately,' it read, 'media coverage on tourists in Amsterdam has been quite negative. However, some do see the positive side of all the tourists making their way into Amsterdam. It's a great opportunity to get in touch with new cultures, and to spread a positive image of a city like Amsterdam. This motivated bike rental company 'Yellow Bike' to come up with an extremely clever idea: Yellow Backie, a yellow luggage rack (a backie), attached to an Amsterdam citizen's bike, that is available for tourists to hop on and explore the city in a totally new way. All you do is shout the word 'Backie' at a local with the yellow luggage rack and they will stop for you.'
I had left the leaflet behind and not thought much about it, however later on as I was walking across a large bridge, I spotted a man with a yellow luggage rack. Just as I was about to ask if I could hop on, a short, pudgy, tanned man shouted 'BACKIE' and the bike stopped to allow him to join. They pedalled away and I sighed, not realising how much I had wanted to join in. All of a sudden, yellow flashed across my vision once more, and I couldn't believe my luck.
"Backie!" I shouted, running to the woman. As I hopped onto the bike, perching sideways on the back, holding onto her shoulders, she immediately began to pedal. "Hallo!" I said shyly, smiling.
"Hallo! You're English?" she questioned, shouting over the sound of traffic.
"Yes! I am!"
"Where are you heading?" she asked, and I realised she was English too.
"I'll go wherever you go!" I responded, and her laugh was a musical one as she took a left down a quiet street. I realised quickly that for all I knew, she could have been a murderer. But, in that moment, I couldn't bring myself to care.
"What's your name?" she asked, a dark brown fringe tickling her eyebrows as she quickly chanced a look at me.
"Elizabeth Brown!" I lied, "You?"
"Rita Koch! Lovely to make your acquaintance!"
--
"Hello." I said nervously, squinting in the bright lights that shined upon me. "I'm Elizabeth Brown, I'm going to be singing U.N.I by Ed Sheeran. Thank you." a weak round of applause went around the bar.
"Whoop! That's my girl!" I heard Rita shout, despite only having known me for 6 days. I began to sing, pouring out my heart for the first time in a long time. Images of blonde hair and blue eyes flashed behind my closed ones as I willed myself not to cry.
"I found your hairband on my bedroom floor,
The only evidence that you've been here before,
And I don't get waves of missing you anymore,
They're more like tsunami tides in my eyes,
Never getting dry, so I get high, smoke away the days never sleep with the light on,
YOU ARE READING
Narcissus
RomanceTo 18 year old Emma Slater, New York, England, is her whole life. It's where she grew up, the streets she played on, the streets she learnt to walk on, the streets she rode her first bike on. It's home. But it's also the streets where she dealt drug...
