Mailbox

TRINITY

TRINITY

Dear Trinity,

Why weren't you strong enough?

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

The sounds just kept echoing in her ears. Trinity kept her eyes fixed on the clock, watching as the hand kept moving bit by bit. She used her left hand to rub her face, and suddenly wincing at the pain. She pulled her hand away, left eye closed, realizing the underlying scar that was no longer above the surface. She sighed, putting her hand down on the table and trying to just ride the wave of pain that was coursing through her face.

She stared down at the folder that was on top of the table.

In the folder contained her freedom, her right to walk away, to officially take back her future.

But would she really be free? Would she really be able to walk away?

"I don't feel safe..." Trinity whispered to no one, she placed a hand on the left side of her face, and tears began to fall. She didn't want to cry out in public, for people to see, but she couldn't fight the tears. She had been doing so for the past seven years, and now she was just tired of it all.

She started to dwell on her fear. She had been sitting at that bookstore for the past two hours. She purposely left home and came to the meeting location hours early, because she knew that she was going to feel that way. She knew that despite preparing for the past few months, it was not enough, that once she was there the fear would take over, she would feel lightheaded and unsure.

And what exactly was she feeling at that moment?

Fear.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" A voice came into view, and Trinity was quick to turn away and try to wipe the tears away. The owner of the voice took a step back, realizing what she had walked into.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" The voice asked, gentle and kind, yet rough around the edges.

Trinity sniffled away the remainder of her tears, using a pink cotton handkerchief, gently pressing it on her skin but wincing from time to time. The stranger, that was still standing there confused, noticed the little winces. Trinity cleared her throat before speaking.

"No, it's okay. You can take a seat."

The stranger complied, putting an expensive Birkin bag on the table. Trinity glanced at it, smiling and caressed the bag. She immediately realized what she was doing and pulled away. The stranger caught a whiff of this and giggled in place.

"It's fine, I don't mind." She said as she took a sip of her iced coffee.

"It's really pretty. I've never seen one in person before." Trinity said and the woman smiled at her.

"I'm being rude, my name's Lorry." the woman, Lorry, introduced herself as she put a hand out from the other end of the table. Trinity took her hand, being heedful about the way she cradled Lorry's hand, not wanting to bruise it or cause a scratch of any kind.

Trinity observed Lorry for a few seconds. She saw how she exuded confidence just by sitting down. She had her legs crossed, a hand on the table and a hand on the leg higher. She wore an expensive pant suit, possibly a brand name that Trinity could only dream of owning. Her skin was as clear as the sky, even her eyes were beautiful. She had make-up, but Trinity figured that she would still look exquisite without it.

Lorry was Trinity's opposite.

A woman who can carry herself well, who was without fear, who got what she wanted regardless of the consequences.