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What do you do if you nothing, no-one, no-where to go? Depression becomes a foe while reality stands and does nothing. All you need is just that one person, that one person to be your saviour, while cherry blossom petals fall to the ground.
The sounds of children shouting and screaming with joy dispersed through the crowd. People walked pass each other, chatting to each other, enjoying each other’s company, going about their business; like any other weekend in spring.
The avenue was lined with pink cherry blossoms; their petals gently falling to the green grass below and the sky – brilliant blue, without a cloud in sight – met with the ever emerging skyline of Tokyo.
The concrete jungle, raised from the ground, was the playground for the people that occupied it. Sounds of car horns and buses driving pass became the background noise which mingled with the life and breathe of the people.
She sat on a bench, with her hands in her lap, starring at her feet. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched people walk by, whilst hearing snippets of conversations about: what to eat for dinner, of girls giggling about a TV show and of the training session at school.
Depression curled around her like a snake, as reality stood in front of her, making her aware that she had no-where to go, no-one to be with, nothing to her name.
Shame and dishonour appeared side-by-side as young twins running around the looming presence of reality; all the while depression tightening its grip on her, drawing every single breathe out of her lungs.
Hope was the only one that held on to her hand, not letting her sink into the pit of depression. But minute-by-minute, depression pulled at her and the grip of hope on her hand weakened and slipped. The prize possession for depression itself was her; it finally had her.
Then she heard his voice.
Through the busy background noise of the people of Tokyo, she heard his voice.
His voice stung depression like a wasp stinging its prey. Shocked and pained, depression reeled back to its icy lair. Shame and dishonour stopped in their tracks with awe and surprise, while reality stood where it was.
Where hope held onto her hand, she felt a warmth over it. Looking up from her feet, she saw his hand clutching at hers; tears filling the corner of her eyes as her saviour, her protector, was here for her.
Time slowed down to a stop as their stared at each other; a cherry blossom petal hung in the air, delicate and fragile. The noise of Tokyo diminishing to a dull, cold tin sound. Reality placed a hand on her shoulder as she knew she was no longer alone, for with him she felt safe; he was hers and she was his.
As time returned to normal, the life of Tokyo was heard once again; children shouting and screaming with excitement, people chatting and laughing, all under the existance of the concrete jungle.
Making their way through the bustling crowd in the avenue of cherry blossoms, their hands interlinked – not letting each other get lost, for they had found each other.
And yet that cherry blossom hung in the air, its pinkness contrasting against the bright blue sky of spring, settled where it is, content on where it was.
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