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MidReal Story
Victoria receives a letter that takes her to a bank
Anonymous
Dec 9
Scenario:Victoria receives a letter that takes her to a bank, where she meets a mysterious man, Gabriel, who helps her find a safety deposit box; meanwhile, Gabriel is struggling with the loss of his wife and finds himself drawn to a little girl named Isabella who reminds him of her.
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She looked up at me as if she felt my gaze, and I looked away.
But after a moment, I couldn’t help it—I looked back again to see if she was still there.
She was.
She was holding the letter with both hands now, but she wasn’t reading it anymore.
Her eyes were staring straight ahead of her, as if she were looking right through me.
I felt a strange sensation in my chest—a twisting, pulling sort of feeling.
It wasn’t painful; it just wasn’t normal for me.
I didn’t get involved with people—any people—unless I had to.
I was an expert at maintaining my emotional distance, and yet here I was staring at this woman who looked like she needed help, and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to offer it to her.
There was something about her that drew me in despite my better judgment—something fragile and delicate about the way she held herself that made me want to wrap my arms around her and protect her from whatever bad news that letter contained.
It was a strange feeling for me, because nothing seemed to affect me these days—not since Julianne—and yet here was this woman who seemed like she had dropped out of the sky right into my path.
And I found myself wanting to know more about her—to know what had brought her there on that day, holding that piece of paper between her hands with such a lost expression on her face.
The thought surprised me.
She wasn’t anyone special; she was a stranger who happened to be sitting across from me in the bank.
But something about her captivated me all the same, and when she stood up to leave, my hand shot out before I knew what I was doing.
"Excuse me," I said as I touched her shoulder lightly.
Victoria
I jumped and turned around to see who had spoken to me.
It was the man from across the room—a tall man with dark hair and green eyes that looked at me questioningly from behind his glasses.
He seemed concerned by my reaction, but he hid it well beneath his professional demeanor.
"Is everything okay?" he asked in a voice that made me shiver unexpectedly.
"I—I’m sorry," I stammered as my heart raced in my chest.
"I’m fine—it’s just this letter . . ."
The words trailed off on their own as I stared at him helplessly with the paper clutched between my white-knuckled fists.
"May I?"
