I Amsterdam (Completed)

Chapter 2 - Brandon

"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future."                                                    - Christopher Johnson McCandless

There are times where I wonder why I'm alive.

There's nothing wrong with me. It's just that I sometimes wonder what's the point.

What's the point of living a life so predictable, so conformed, that you can tell what's right around the corner, even if it may be pitch black?

Or it might be just for me and my family. I already knew what was going to happen to me, how my future would play out. I was going to finish school, graduate from college, get a career as a software engineer in this fancy high-tech company, marry, have kids, and die of old age, warm and comfy in my bed. But warm and comfy doesn't mean fulfilled and satisfied. My life is so predictable that it could be easily compared to a blunt rock. We both aren't afraid of dying: the rock because it was truly not alive, and me because of the security I'm surrounded by. So technically, how could I be alive if I'm not worried by death? I might have air coming out of my lungs, and my heart might still be pumping, but what I use that life for is like what a rock does - nothing. I wasn't running from danger, I wasn't wandering miles to find food and water, and I wasn't constantly searching for shelter to keep me safe, like a rock.

However, even if what I think is true, I'm still following the path laid out for me.

But that's just my thoughts when I'm alone and bored, sprawled out arms-stretched on my bed, gazing up through the sky window in my room at the clouds drifting across the glass in a slow-motion race, miles and miles away. Being the only sky window of our house, it was my favorite window, stitched into the ceiling of my bedroom. It was a modern addition my parents made to this old Dutch house of ours to "lighten it up," but I wouldn't call it a bad decision, for it makes me feel like I'm flying, outside, away from all my worries.

School begins in a week. My last year.

One more year and then I'll be off to college, waking up to the dusty, stained ceiling of my dorm at the University of Amsterdam, in the middle of the night to the sound of my roommate's rumbling snores and the thoughts of my forgotten worries.

I could detect the rising sun rays flooding into Amsterdam, some visible through my sky window. They scratched against the glass, dripping into the room and lighting it bit by bit.

The city was silent until I heard the distant wailing of a siren, so far off that it barely made it to my ears, but I was still sure I would be able to hear it even it was miles away. Because that's the outcome of a traumatic event. No matter how fast it happens, you can remember every detail, all of which haunts you for the rest of your days, from the sound of the police sirens to the booming sound of a gunshot. The gunshot.

I've always preferred sunrises to sunsets. Almost everyone I knew, however, favored the setting sun. I didn't know many people though, so that could explain it; seclusion is basically my middle name now.

And so as I got up from bed, ready to drive down to the coffee shop for my daily cup of coffee, I put on my regular leather jacket and black jeans. I could already picture the scene: me parking my motorcycle in the exact same spot as I had the days before, promptly at 7:30 AM. I would walk in to have my gaze met by Mila, whose shift ends at 7:30 AM but stays everyday to take my order of black coffee before leaving. A few years younger, she would look at me with a longing gaze that I'm too afraid to turn down and instead just avoid. I can always imagine her high-pitched voice as she would hand me my coffee and say, "The usual for my usual customer!" She would smile. And I would smile back, quickly take my coffee, and leave the shop dreaming of a day that could bring me something different.

Just keep your head down, focus on your work, and no one will ruin anything, I told myself for the millionth time.

Everything will be alright.

A/N: Question of the Chapter

Alright, so here's a new side of Brandon for you all. Doesn't seem too tense, am I right? Jk. With that being said: What do you want to do when you get older, or, what are currently you doing career-wise?