Our Little Cherry Blossoms

eleven. lost

ＪＡＮＵＡＲＹ (( ＬＡＲＫ ))

A pearl-grey sky shed frozen tears upon the curved top of my small umbrella as I approached the black gate with aching hesitance, my opaque breath conjuring up an insipid fog before my eyes. Reaching a hand out to unlock the gate, I unwittingly gazed upwards at the sleeping cherry blossom tree, its barren branches providing a safe haven for the sky's ice children while they fluttered towards the earth. A trepidatious sigh escaped my lips as I nudged past the gate and continued on my weary way to the end of our holiday.

Helen greeted me with stars in her eyes and a flute in her voice, wrapping her burly arms around in a protective embrace. Firm, yet not unduly tight. Immensely grateful for the gaiety of her contagious joy, it soon engulfed me in like a warm quilt, tenderly stitched with threads spun from the rays of the sun. Suddenly, the click of the door handle turning echoed derisively off the concrete walls before the door swung open to reveal Valerie and the boy, their fingers intertwined with each other. My fleeting moment of contented tranquility was wrenched from my back and ripped to shreds in just one ruthless second. Helen's arms fell away like grains of sand, and I was surrounded by seething shadows as I met the crepuscular gaze which so irrefutably belonged to his. What little light that was reflected in his pupils only stung mine like a rusted dagger, forsaken at the side of a dirt road. My chest withdrew into itself, a severe grip enveloping my very core like a blanket of thorns. Blinking, I stepped back into Helen's arms and spuriously contemplated the window, my face quasi-emotionless.

"Lark?"

I didn't respond to Helen. I couldn't respond at all. I simply trained my pupils on the docile snowfall outside, allowing my thoughts to wither away lest I begin to tear. Gradually, all sense of direction had left my mind. Although I knew who and what I was, I had been unaware of where I would go.