Hold on, let's scroll back a few paragraphs.
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Ah yes, she was simply kneeling on the patch of grass, praying to the skies, and a lily flower suddenly appeared in front of her, for seemingly no reason. Great. This is totally believable. You sure Amy isn't, you know, a bit off, right?
Still, in a state of shock, Amy begins to slowly avert her gaze from the Lily flower, only to feel her neck weighed down by something. She looked down towards her chest to find the strap of a camera, attached sensibly to a camera. It was silver in colour and a lens hood was attached to it. She immediately recognizes it as her childhood camera, one which she used to take lots of photo's with, but... She doesn't remember still owning it? Nothing recent she could remember could prove she still or even once owned this camera, but it was familiar...
Amy clicks the power button on. Remarkably, it still had charge in it, but it was already at half capacity. There were no photo's already present in the camera. It seemed to be used very recently, but by whom? Amy kneeled motionlessly, her mind racing to piece bits of two, three, or thousands together. All of this does not make any coherent sense by one bit!
The white lily flower stood, swayed by the winds of Summer. Its white petals, untainted, glowing under the sun's light. Amy pondered. She did so with her blank gaze affixed on the white lily itself. Those white petals, they faced towards the sky, gazing. Atop a bustling city, without any reason for its abrupt presence which is inexplicable, it stood, overlooking the city beneath it, gazing at the inherently blue skies above. As Amy thought about this, her mind begins to clear once again, no different than the clouds, her thoughts were being brought elsewhere.
"This white lily," She thought, "Along with this camera, there must be a reason, the skies had answered to my prayers! But... what exactly is it telling me with this?"
Amy stood up once more, the sun's rays reflected off the back of her hair. She began to contemplate exactly what the skies were hinting at. Well, for a thing, they made no sense. This white lily flower, I guess it looks great? Amy seems mesmerized by it, as for perhaps it is of significant importance. In her heart, Amy felt something. It was something... weird, as if the flower was calling out to her, similar to just now when it was the skies that called out.
"This flower... it wants me to bring it along... to somewhere." She thought. Amy began looking for a small pot to keep the flower in it. Maybe those back at home are suitable? No, those were supposed to be used to pot the potato's mom had recently grown...
As she lifts her hand to scratch her head, she felt something already in her palms. It was a large, red scissor. Its blades gleaming in the sunlight. "So this is what the skies want me to use, huh?" She thought. Amy looked towards the flower again. It looked so peaceful where it was, as if an adolescent child, taking a rest in the midst of fields stray from the sun, gazing at what it loved most, the azure blue skies. This beauty, it stirred things up in Amy's chest. It has been very long since Amy felt emotional towards things, and this was no different. She held a sudden affinity towards this flower's beauty, seemingly infatuated with its presence.
Amy made up her mind. She is to cherish the beauty she saw in this flower, one way or another. She wanted to preserve its bloom. But, wouldn't cutting it by the stem doom it to a short-lived existence? She pondered as to why the skies gave her scissors, and not a trowel and a pot? There must be a reason for it, and for Amy, she followed what her heart dictates: Listen to the skies.
Amy crouches down to the flower again, scissor in hand, her gaze affixed upon its pure petals, letting out a sigh. "I want to preserve this beauty I see in this flower," She said below her breath. Using her right hand to hold it by the stem, she spread the scissors mouth open with her left, and brought the stem closer in between its grasp.
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With a swift cut, the stem was separated from its roots. The flower jolts for a moment and is soon parted from its anchor to the ground. No longer would it reside overlooking the city. From now on, it was to follow Amy around. Willingly. As Amy regained her footing back onto the dilapidated concrete path once again, she realized the scissors where nowhere to be found. Gone, seemingly without a trace. With the flower in one hand, she began to pace down the path once more, camera in the other hand. As the sounds of gentle footsteps and shifting gravel fill her ears once more, she pondered as to what had just happened. She pondered its meaning, and not questioned as to why - she knows, for change to happen, there need not a valid, logical or coherent reason.
You know, sometimes, I ponder. Everyones cognitive and personalities are different. That is definite. The saying that all people are born equal is unrealistic at best, refusing to accept that all humans are born different, born unequal. It is fascinating for me to see the way certain people of different cognitives react to certain events. It is certainly of my intrigue. Amy never questioned the logical anomaly's that came with the random and persistent appearances of items that came to fruition out of thin air, she just went along with it all, believing by her principles and intuitions, and being able to possibly prosper and benefit from it.
This was truly a testament to her will and desire for change.
