Crisis Intervention

None of it was supposed to happen, how could it have, why did it have to? the little boy could not phantom.



Faraway in a forgotten place, the lonely little boy locked himself in his own little world, high up atop a hill. Looking down the valley, the abyss stared back at him and he felt it was oh so familiar for the emptiness, sorrow and self-pity had been residing in him for oh so long.



Then one day, out of the gloomy skies a light oh so pure pierced through the blankets of grey clouds, knocking on his front door was a little girl. Her smile oh so heavenly broke. “Let me help you, walk out of this gloom and back into the sun filled grassy plains.”



The little boy, tears welling up in his eyes backed up against the door as though afraid it might fall. He knees buckled and his back curled. The tears would not stop it outpour. Deep down he knew he wanted to follow that voice. But he was afraid. Though suffering, he found it familiar and a part of him could not let go. The fear overwhelmed him, shackled him to the walls.

The little girl never left.



And for an oh so long time, she waited and waited. And finally he felt he was ready, ready to face the world again, ready to brave the odds and face his fears. But most importantly, he was ready to face the mistakes of the past and put it down. No longer did he want to crumble over the burden he carried for oh he had forgotten how long.



The door creaked open. The little girl reached out with her hand. The warmth comforted him and her smiled assured him. For one last time he turned around to look at the high walls which once locked his heart and his soul. He might have to come back one day but he knew would if he ever did, no longer would it confine him, no longer would it bound his soul.





The hand that reaches out doesn’t solve anything, doesn’t make the problem go away. But it sure makes it easier.