Our Last Dance [ONC 2021]

Chapter X ~ A Visit to the Opera

1874

When I awoke from the dead, it was snowing. Small stars making their way towards the ground, covering my dress with a thin layer of white. It felt cold on my skin. It reminded me of the last time I'd woken up like this, in a different time and a different place.

The grave I had been buried me in was bigger than any of those before. A tall stone of almost two meters high was blocking the falling sun from hitting the ground. Instead, the sun formed a halo of light around the stone. It was a beautiful grave.

The stone was cracked in the middle, showing a rift that reached form top to almost-bottom. Someone had put flowers between it, but they were long past withering and had dried out. It had clearly been a long time since anyone had even looked at it. How many years had gone by? By now, probably no one would still be alive to remember me.

No, there was someone. Icarus. Did he keep his promise? Did he wait for me?

There was only one way to find out, and with that thought in mind I made my way to the post office.

It must have been quite a sight: a girl, covered in snow, asking for a bunch of letters that had been sent there at least a few decennia back.

'They're my late grandmother's,' I told the clerk standing behind the counter, 'She recently died and when I went through her stuff, I found a diary fragment in which she talked of them.'

He gave the letters easily enough; it was not like someone else was going to collect them anyway.

There were only twenty-something of them, but when I saw that the last one was from only a few months back, I was content. He hadn't forgotten about me, even though it had been almost 62 years. He had even sent me a package, carefully wrapped in brown paper. I was tempted to open it right there, inside the post office, but a woman was impatiently waiting behind me for her turn, so instead I took all of it under my arm and made my way outside.

The park was almost exactly how it used to be. Even my favourite spot was still there, though the fountain was replaced by a tree, enclosed by a low railing.

But the bench was still there and even though it was still snowing, I sat down and broke the first wax seal.

With shaking hands I unfolded the first letter, unsure whether it was because of the cold or because of my nerves. Before I could even cast my eyes on Icarus' words, a short note fell from between the paper:

I don't know when you'll come back, but I thought you might need this. We wouldn't want you to go stealing any more wallets than absolutely necessary, would we?

There was at least enough money to buy me a whole new wardrobe. Thank you, Icarus. He truly was a guardian angel.

I decided to first get some fresh clothes before reading the other letters, and to perhaps find some place to stay. I doubted that I could just waltz into my aunt's house. I doubted that she was even still alive.

All afternoon I sat next to the fireplace in the apartment I'd rented, reading Icarus' words. My aunt had indeed died, but that was no surprise. Apparently, Icarus had travelled the world. I wished I would have time for that. The drawings he had sent me were beautiful. All of them were made with a grey pencil, but I could almost see the colour in them.

And then there was that one sentence. That one sentence that made me question everything, that made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time: hope. I think I found it.

Did he really find a cure? There was only one place where I would find that answer: Paris. By the time the sun set the next day, London was far behind me.