Chapter 18: Who Else Could It Be?

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When Trixie opened her mailbox one Sunday morning at the end of a long summer, a small red envelope fell out on the hallway floor. The blood red letter contrasting the white marble beneath it.

Who was sending letters to her private address?
Most would send it to her office address which would make them arrive at the motel reception.
Trixie couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten anything other than newspapers and bills sent to her apartment.

As she picked the envelope up she saw a small sun drawn delicately on the bottom corner at the left side, making her heart skip a beat.

Surely it couldn't be?
There was no way.
Right?

7 years had passed now since Katya left and so far there had been no word from the Russian ever.
Absolutely nothing.
Not even a simple phone call to the motel reception.

Trixie often dreamed that the blue eyed woman would write another letter like she had all those years ago, but it never came.

Well, not until now.
Maybe.
If it was even her, which was honestly unlikely, Trixie knew that.
But who else would draw a sun?

The brown eyed woman was terrified of getting her hopes up, the heartbreak from being wrong to great to even imagine. Still, she couldn't risk not opening the letter, not when there was a possibility that it really was written by Katya.
She couldn't miss the opportunity of getting back in touch with the woman who haunted her mind at all times.

With shaking hands the girl pulled the envelope open, immediately smelling the familiar perfume the Russian always wore. Despite not having smelt it in so many years, it was still instantly recognizable.
The smell that had so often lingered on the brown eyed girl's clothes after a visit to Room 102.
The smell that had left that room years ago.

Trixie pulled the letter out, tears escaping her eyes as she recognized the handwriting immediately.

Dear Trixie.

Even writing that name feels very strange. Nice, but strange.

Are you happy?

Did you find happiness?

I hope that happiness found you.

I am just same as before, maybe it is worse, I can not tell anymore.

When it gets too hard I take trip down memory lane. I see us dancing in dumb way under orange sunlight.
I see us in that motel room which was like secret island.
It makes me happy, at least for little while.

It is strange to think I once believed I could forget you. Now I think the same as my grandmother would say to comfort me in her few moments of kindness; "It is hard to forget even handful of memories with someone if they were good."

And our memories, кукла, they were really good.

I am sure you must be confused because I am writing now.
It has been long time, no?

Well truth is, I have no one here, and I can not take it any longer.
I know I said in my world we trust no one and love no one.
But I do not wish to live in that way.
I want to live life trusting you, loving you.

For this reason I am trying to get away and I think maybe I have found way to escape this life which is like prison.

It will take time, I know a long time has already passed, but I wish you will wait for me.

Maybe it is foolish to ask.
Maybe you found new person to love.
If that is how it is, then please burn this letter with fire like I burned pet lizard.

All I want is you to be happy.

At some time in my life I used to wish that I would dissapear from this world, every night would feel dark and lonely, so I would wish for dreamless sleep.
But it is no longer so.
Now moon brings comfort and make nights happiest time of day because it reminds me of you.

We promised to meet in sky.
But maybe there is still chance to meet again on earth.

If it is still thing you want, please send reply to the postal box in Boston.
It will come to right place in time.

If no reply will come, I will think that you are living very happy life, being loved by someone like you should.

I will look at sky and be happy that I can still meet you there.

I love you, Trixie.
Forever.

- Katya

The Trixie Motel ✔ ~ trixyaWhere stories live. Discover now