| General Fiction posted July 30, 2025 | Chapters: |
...12 13 -14- 15... 
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The Letter
A chapter in the book Dmitri's Extraordinary Fate
Dmitri's Extraordinary Fate: 14
by tfawcus
| Background A bomb blast in Ukraine killed Dmitri's 17-year-old twin sister. He suffered catatonia as a result, but has now recovered under Elena's care. He is in love with Leila, who works for her. |
When Elena returned, she found Leila up to her elbows in the kitchen sink. The draining board was stacked with breakfast dishes and cutlery, and she was attacking the last of the pots and pans.
Elena waved the package in the air. 'Look! I have a parcel. How exciting! And there's a letter for you. A Turkish stamp on it. Probably from your mother. I hope she's all right.'
Leila wiped her hands on her apron and took the envelope. A puzzled look crossed her face. 'That's not Mama's handwriting. I wonder who it's from?' She turned it over. There was a return address on the back with the name Samira Haddad. 'That's strange. It's from my aunt.'
She slit it open with a knife from the draining board and hesitated for a moment before unfolding the letter and starting to read.
My dear Leila,
I hope this reaches you. The last time I wrote, I wasn't sure if you had moved again. The girl from the UN said she would help, and I pray she kept her word.
Your mother is failing. The doctors here don't say much, but I can see it in her skin, in her breath, and in the way her voice drifts off when she tries to speak. She wakes at night calling for you.
I've done what I can. But I'm only one person, and my hands are not young anymore. We're all tired. The camp is full of ghosts.
She doesn't ask for much, Leila. But she asks for you.
I know you've worked hard to make a life for yourself, but I trust that you still carry us in your heart, and that you will remember your filial duty.
I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, but there may not be much time. She is fading fast.
Your ever-loving aunt,
Samira
I hope this reaches you. The last time I wrote, I wasn't sure if you had moved again. The girl from the UN said she would help, and I pray she kept her word.
Your mother is failing. The doctors here don't say much, but I can see it in her skin, in her breath, and in the way her voice drifts off when she tries to speak. She wakes at night calling for you.
I've done what I can. But I'm only one person, and my hands are not young anymore. We're all tired. The camp is full of ghosts.
She doesn't ask for much, Leila. But she asks for you.
I know you've worked hard to make a life for yourself, but I trust that you still carry us in your heart, and that you will remember your filial duty.
I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, but there may not be much time. She is fading fast.
Your ever-loving aunt,
Samira
The colour drained from Leila's cheeks. The letter dropped from her fingers, and it floated to the floor. She stumbled forward and fell into Elena's outstretched arms.
'Oh, my poor dear! What is it?' Elena ushered her towards the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. 'Come! Sit down here.'
Leila slumped forward on the chair with her head between her hands. Waves of grief convulsed her body.
Elena stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. 'There, there. It'll be all right. Take your time, dear. You've had a terrible shock.'
Leila lifted her head slowly, her words coming in waves between her sobs. 'It's my mother. She's dying.'
Elena reached for the teapot. She pushed a steaming mug across the table. 'Here, sip this slowly. It will help.'
After a while, when the first paroxysms subsided, Leila pulled herself together as best she could.
'Even if I go, there's no guarantee I'll get there in time. I’ll need permission to visit the refugee camp. There are organisations in Kyiv that might be able to help with the documentation, but I’ll have to go there in person. I don’t know how long it will take.’
She hesitated, going through everything in her mind.
‘They might fast-track it because of Mama’s condition. The Human Rights people have helped in some cases, but it’s all paperwork and waiting. And I can’t afford to wait.’
Elena nodded slowly and bent to pick up the letter. She placed it on the table. ‘And then what?’
‘I’ll need to arrange a flight from Kyiv to Istanbul. After that, someone to meet me. The camp’s in a restricted zone, but my cousin might be able to arrange something if the border guards cooperate.’ She gave a sharp laugh. ‘And here I am, worrying about paperwork while my mother lies dying.’ Her voice caught. ‘I hate this. I hate needing bureaucratic permission to say goodbye.’
‘And what about a visa? You’ll need to apply for one at the Turkish embassy.’
'No, that's not a problem. I’ll just need to show them my passport when I book,' She fished in her bag and placed it on the table. There was a trident embossed in gold on the navy cover.
Elena stared. 'You’re Ukrainian?'
'By my father,' she said, almost defensively. 'He’s from Moreniv. He brought me here when things got bad in Syria, but he was called up almost at once, and we haven’t spoken since.' She closed the passport and slid it back into her bag. 'It’s just a formality. It lets me travel to Türkiye without special permission.'
‘That’s a blessing. One less thing to worry about. I didn’t know,’
‘I didn’t tell you. My father and I had ... a difficult relationship.’
Elena touched her arm. ‘You do what you need to. Is there any way I can help... money, perhaps?’
Leila's eyes glistened. 'You've already helped more than anyone. I can't possibly ask for that.'
Elena gave a small smile. 'Don't be silly. It's the least I can do.'
'I shall repay you. Every last kopiyka. I swear it on my mother's gr...' she trailed off.
'Hush, child! You shouldn't say such things. Now go and do your packing. There's a train from Moreniv mid-afternoon that will get you to Lviv, and from there you can catch the night train to Kyiv. You haven't much time if you intend to leave today.'
'When will Dmitri be back from town? I can't leave without saying goodbye.'
'I don't know, but for some reason, Pavla wanted to see him. I'll ring her and say he needs to hurry home, as there's been an emergency. I imagine he'll be back by lunchtime, so you'll have plenty of time for fond farewells. He may even be able to come with us to the station.'
When Leila climbed the stairs, she went first to Dmitri's room. She sat on the edge of his bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes burned, but she was determined not to cry. Her mother's voice echoed faintly: You must be strong. Smile, even when it hurts.
She didn't want to go. She didn't want to be reminded of the life she'd escaped from, and the thought of going back terrified her. Nothing would be certain once she returned to Türkiye.
She glanced at the sketchbook on Dmitri's table. It lay open, a few pencils scattered nearby. This was not the sketchbook he took to Pavla each week for his art lessons. It was a book of more personal paintings and drawings; the harpy pouncing on his queen, the heron by the lake, and one she hadn't seen before—of her. She hadn't realised she looked so beautiful. God, how she would like to stay one more morning, waking up in Dmitri's arms.
For a moment, she weakened, but then she pressed her fingers to her chest as if to trap the memory there. Forgive me, she whispered, though she wasn't sure if it was meant for her mother, or for him.
She cast a last, lingering glance on his bed, patted the pillow, and went to her room to pack for the trip.
***
By midday, there was still no sign of him. Elena had called her friend as promised, but there was no reply. She left a message, but not with any great hope of it being seen. Pavla wasn't good at that kind of thing.
'Never mind,' she said. 'We'd better start lunch without him. I'm sure he won't be too long.'
She had been busy making a special meal while Leila was packing: Chicken Kyiv, filled with butter and garden herbs, and plum pie with cream to follow.
'You've got a long train ride ahead of you. We can't send you off hungry now, can we? And I've packed a lanch-bak with cold sausage, cheese, pickles, and rye bread for the journey, so you won't starve.'
'You're such a darling, Elena. I really don't deserve all this fuss.'
'Nonsense, girl. You’ll be glad of it when the time comes.'
They ate the meal without saying much. They were too deeply buried in their own thoughts. Leila kept looking up at the kitchen clock. I wonder where he is and what's happened to him.
After the meal ended, Elena said, 'We must leave in half an hour if we're to catch the train. You'd better leave him a note, just in case.'
Leila sighed. She hadn't expected it to be so difficult. She started writing, slowly, carefully, each stroke of the pen oozing love:
Dmitri, my darling
I waited as long as I could. I wanted to see you and to say this to your face, but Elena is taking me to the station soon. We can't risk missing the train.
A letter arrived this morning. My mother is dying in a refugee camp in Türkiye. My aunt says it won't be long. I have no option. I have to go, first to Kyiv to arrange paperwork for the visit, then on to Istanbul if all goes well.
But don't despair. I shall be gone only as long as it takes, and no longer. Then we shall be back in each other's arms again.
I wish I didn't have to do this, but family comes first. It isn't something I can walk away from just because I want something different.
I'm sure you will understand.
All my love, Leila
I waited as long as I could. I wanted to see you and to say this to your face, but Elena is taking me to the station soon. We can't risk missing the train.
A letter arrived this morning. My mother is dying in a refugee camp in Türkiye. My aunt says it won't be long. I have no option. I have to go, first to Kyiv to arrange paperwork for the visit, then on to Istanbul if all goes well.
But don't despair. I shall be gone only as long as it takes, and no longer. Then we shall be back in each other's arms again.
I wish I didn't have to do this, but family comes first. It isn't something I can walk away from just because I want something different.
I'm sure you will understand.
All my love, Leila
She folded the paper in half, took the locket from around her neck, and placed it on top of the note. It glinted dully in the afternoon light, a silent promise left behind.
 Recognized |
Footnote: The Ukrainian kopiyka is a small denomination coin equivalent to the Russian kopek
Lanch-bak is a misspelling of "lunch bag." The term is used in the context of lunch bags with Ukrainian themes, often decorated with the Ukrainian flag or other patriotic symbols
Characters
Dmitri, a teenage boy recovering from catatonia (a state in which someone is awake but does not seem to respond to other people and their environment).
Mira, his twin sister, who was killed in a bomb attack.
Elena, a volunteer carer looking after Dmitri and aiding his recovery.
Leila, a foreign girl employed by Elena.
Pavla Miret, an art teacher.
Andriy Kolt, an army major.
Setting: Somewhere in Western Ukraine, in the Carpathian Mountains.
British English spelling and grammar are used throughout.
Thank you for reading and reviewing. I welcome honest, constructive criticism.
Photo by Alireza Zarafshani on Unsplash
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Lanch-bak is a misspelling of "lunch bag." The term is used in the context of lunch bags with Ukrainian themes, often decorated with the Ukrainian flag or other patriotic symbols
Characters
Dmitri, a teenage boy recovering from catatonia (a state in which someone is awake but does not seem to respond to other people and their environment).
Mira, his twin sister, who was killed in a bomb attack.
Elena, a volunteer carer looking after Dmitri and aiding his recovery.
Leila, a foreign girl employed by Elena.
Pavla Miret, an art teacher.
Andriy Kolt, an army major.
Setting: Somewhere in Western Ukraine, in the Carpathian Mountains.
British English spelling and grammar are used throughout.
Thank you for reading and reviewing. I welcome honest, constructive criticism.
Photo by Alireza Zarafshani on Unsplash
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