I Amsterdam (Completed)

Chapter 11.1 - Emma

"How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said."    - Victor Hugo

It was still dark outside. The night had complete control, muting the birds and the vibrant city, and clouds painted the sky purple. The only sound was the gentle wind rustling the trees outside. There was no moon. There were no stars.

Packing was easy. There wasn't much, anyway, that I took out of my travelling pack to start with, and there wasn't much I had to add either. But what I anxiously anticipated was feeling its heavy weight crushing down upon my body. As always, I promised myself it would only be for a little while, until I get to Brussels and find a place to stay. But in reality, I didn't know. I only knew I would be relieved in the train. After, I had no idea where I would go, what my next job would be, or where I would stay. Just go with the flow, I reminded myself.

I had slept for a sufficient six hours, and couldn't go back to sleep. So, I looked through my sketchbook to pass the time. I went through France, Italy, all the way to Germany and then Amsterdam, shades of black and white narrating my journey of the past year, and soon, the many more years to come. But all my sketches were insignificant compared to the one of Brandon. It was my first sketch of him, of his face. The other one where he was by his window, I gave to him. But this one, I kept. I stared at his face, his expression, and imagined my pencil going back and forth to bring the page to life, with only happiness on my mind. Everything had seemed so simple back then. Now, it was so much more complex.

I've always been indecisive. It took me a full year to decide I would run away and travel the world after my mother died. And now I'm feeling the exact same way as I did then - the feeling that pulled me in two opposite directions. One told me to stay, whether it's for love or for loss, and the other told me to go, to run away and never look back.

But if I were to choose option one, I'd overstay my welcome in the Schneider's house. And plus, I knew Brandon's parents didn't approve of me, so staying would only hurt Brandon even more.

And so I promised myself going is for the better, like I did when I left my father. I promised myself that sooner or later, I would forget about the boy named Brandon and the way I felt about him.

I flipped to the very last page of my sketchbook, where laid my folded raven sketch, ripped at the edge where I tore it out a week ago. If I hadn't have sketched it, would Brandon have never seen and brought it back to me? There were so many ways I could've avoided him, and yet I didn't. Now it has all flooded back to bite me.

I closed my sketchbook and added it as the last item to my travelling pack, which I heaved upstairs as its weight pulled me back downward.

Mr. Schneider was up, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee.

"I didn't know you were up," I said to him, dropping my travelling pack down on the sofa.

"Well, I wasn't going to let you leave without saying goodbye," he replied, cupping his mug with two hands. "Where are you going to next?"

"Brussels, Belgium," I answered. "By train."

"Where are you staying?"

I kept my mouth shut, knowing better than to answer with a lie. Lying has never got me anywhere, as I've learned with Brandon.

Mr. Schneider sighed. "Why did you choose this, Emma?"

"I'll figure it out soon enough," I said, answering his previous question.

I could see his chest rise and fall with a deep breath that he tried hard to contain. He nodded reluctantly in the motion of a slow-moving bobblehead. "Do you remember what I said the morning after you got into that fight? With those boys? Do you remember what I told you?"

I looked at him cluelessly.

He gave me the look that showed he expected me to not remember. "I told you that if you ever doubt this life," he explained, "go back to him."

I remember now. "And I promised you," I added.

"Yes, you did."

"I still don't," I confirmed. "I still don't doubt it."

He eyed me. "Just make sure you're not saying it just to convince yourself," he said, giving me the feeling that he knew more than he let on.

I only shook it away. "I'll miss you," I told him.

"And I'll miss you," he replied. "Make sure you come back to visit me sometime."

"I will."

"I love you," he said.

I nodded. Those words would fit perfect in Brandon's mouth. "I know," I replied.

He sat up, leaving his coffee mug still untouched on the table. "I'm going to go to bed," he said. "Remember what I told you. Good night, Emma."

I watched him as he left for his room. I wouldn't let the tears form in my eyes. We both knew that it wasn't in me to come back to see him again.

"Good night," I whispered.