I Amsterdam (Completed)

Chapter 1 - Emma

Drawing above by zoratae !    

  "To find the universal elements enough: to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be    refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter...to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring — these are some of the rewards of the simple life."       - John Burroughs

ONE WEEK AGO

I woke to the sound of birds.

And just the beauty of it gave me a feeling so strong, so indescribable, that no other feeling could make me feel happier. To wake to the simplicity and beauty of life, with life in you yourself, was such a feeling that I struggled to comprehend it. When you identified something as beautiful, how could you satisfy yourself? Just seeing it makes your heart rise to soar above your head, but how could you be sure you're doing everything you could to cherish the moment, to savor it? How could you become one with beauty when you couldn't even hold the literal trait?

I laid silently in bed, careful not to interfere with the layered songs of the birds, their voices a melody no instrument can truly mimic, the pulsing beat of their wings in flight like rigid twigs snapping repetitively in sped-up motion. I wondered where those birds would go, where their wings would take them. There were infinite possibilities.

I hated it and I loved it.

I cocked my head to the side, my eyes still closed, but my ears still working, still listening. Just the simple movement overwhelmed me with a wave of exhaustion, and reminded me of the consequences of the night before: the cramping of my legs, the numbness of my ponderous body, my arms that yearned for rest, and even the slight pounding in the back of my brain that hinted at a headache. But I assured myself that none of those aftereffects would be too strong to bother me in the coming day, for even though they were consequences, I was used to them.

And so even though I didn't want to open my eyes in my weariness, I still did.

Dangling freely in front of me were crimson velvet curtains. And streaming through their cracks, orange morning light of the rising sun lit up portions of the room with the color of uncontrollable fire. I sat up and walked over, pushing the curtains away with a swish, and was blinded for a second by the immediate rays of light that struck my face. When my eyes adjusted, the first thing I noticed were the houses, towering as they were compressed side by side, like they needed to share the warmth of the sun on their backs to fight the advancing cold. Above them were the rays of the sunrise.

Amsterdam.

The sight took my breath away, and once again, I didn't know what to do to cherish that beautiful moment. Amsterdam, the city of work and movement, the heart of the bustling of people with things to do and places to be, and yet it was as quiet and still as a baby asleep in bed. It felt almost ironic that it was during such a beautiful time of day.

But there was a special beauty to being one of many to experience things that barely no one else could, and I relished in that. But to fully immerse with such experiences, I couldn't have worries. Worries that...

I glanced to my left, where upon my bedside table laid a small slip of paper, torn and wrinkled, but still intact all the same.

I picked it up. 2428 Welwyn Avenue.

The memories that came with it were too heavy to bear, and instead I quickly flushed them out of my mind, adding one more fold to the slip of paper before sticking it back into my travelling backpack that sat on the floor beside my bed, dumped lazily in my haste to get to Amsterdam the night before.

For to fully immerse with such pleasant experiences, I couldn't have worries, worries I assured myself I would not have once I began my journey across the world, my journey that had led me here in Amsterdam.

And so, I sat criss-crossed back on the bed, and simply stared, silently taking a mental picture of every little thing around me, every little atom, hoping I'd remember the feeling of beauty from something as simple as a sunrise.

A/N: Question of the Chapter

Well, now you've met Emma! Hope you like her! For this chapter's QOTC, I have an open-ended question: What is something that you think is beautiful?