Depression. That’s what your parents told you when they found out about your scars, and it sank right deep in your heart. So they immediately tried to help you. You were sitting for the tenth time already in the office, fingers caressing delicately your scars on your wrists and arms while you waited patiently for your psychologist. With a huff, you rolled down the sleeves to cover the ugliness on your body and raised your head when the door finally opened.

You were welcomed by a warm smile from Simon, he was trying his best to help you to untie the knots in your head, to help you through the ‘depression’. Everyday, before any session, he welcomed you in his office with different heart warming gifts. This time he was holding a pair of orange roses, the thorns were cut off so you could hold the stems without getting hurt. “I know I’m late, I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t help but pick up those roses from the flower shop. They reminded me of you.” He gently placed on your lap the roses before taking a seat behind his desk, “Orange is for joy, warmth, and happiness. I’m willing to give you all that.” He spoke sincerely, his hand reaching out for yours.