Memoirs

Part Five

"Lily! You have a letter!!" Sarah yelled, I never get letters and this made my heart sink. Could they have possibly found me? What would they want from me?

I quickly got up and went to find her to see who the letter is from. But there stood Liam with a piece of paper in his hand, I was instantly confused. "What is going on?" I asked and he just smiled. "An admirer, Lily. I saw Harry today at the cafe and he told me to give you this." he spoke nonchalantly and I grabbed the paper, immediately going back to my room.

Why would Harry write me a letter? Could it possibly be him telling me how much he already was tired of me? Maybe it was about the cafe, I knew I shouldn't have let him pay for me. What was I thinking?? I opened the piece of paper and began reading,

"Lily,
     I know that we necessarily don't know each other. And I don't blame you for it, I'm shit at striking up conversation. But I don't know, there is something about you that makes me want to never shut my mouth. Maybe it's your eyes or the way you carefully word yourself when you speak. There's just something about you that I don't know and hopefully one day you'll share it with me, but until then I'll settle for whatever you want to give me.
     So here I am writing this stupid letter to you. I don't know why I'm actually writing this maybe I'm just scared to confront you. I feel like you hate me. I don't know but I want you not to. So here are some things about me.
     I like to bake, a lot. I actually use to work in a bakery when I was back home, I was 16 at the time. I also draw, I've gotten better at it, luckily. I have a thing for tea with milk, no honey or sugar. My favorite go-to food would probably be Chinese, I don't know. My favorite color is blue, pretty basic I know, I apologize. I have a sister, she's older than myself but were rather close. I think that should be all for now.
             -H"

I re-read the letter maybe three times before folding it up and shoving it inside my jacket. I was off today so I thought it'd be good to go back to where the party was an actually observe the art this time since it was an open gallery.

I got up and threw on a pair of black jeans and some random shirt I found in my drawer. It didn't really matter to me honestly. Once I got my shoes on I grabbed my things and left.

/

I stood inside of the gallery, my senses always being on high alert and it annoyed me. I wish I could just live and go through life without thinking that something was going to happen to me. But I couldn't help it.

I looked at the piece in front of me, it was a photograph of a little blonde girl. Her eyes were bloodshot and the blue in them had turned to ice. A boy, not much older than herself lied in front of her, surrounded in his own blood. You could see an older woman being dragged away from them by men in black clothing and the father was trying to break free. Inspecting the painting closer, my heart dropped. It was me. This photograph was from my life. And someone from my past had taken this, but I don't remember seeing cameras back then. But at the same time, I wouldn't care because I was too focused on my brother. Watching his life being torn away from him and I couldn't do anything.

I looked at the name of the photographer, Yanek S. Strüt. I have never heard of that name before and I didn't want to know it. But he had no right if broadcasting my trauma in front of everyone.

"Wow, that's such a devastating photo. That poor girl." an elder woman spoke next to me,  looking at her husband.

"You could physically feel her pain." he told his wife. No you can't, you can't feel my pain. "I hope that, that girl is stable and well with her parents, if she is alive." he continued but I couldn't listen I just couldn't stand to hear people talk of my tragedy. There was so much they didn't know and so much they would never know.

I left the gallery, finding my way to the first person I had thought of. Harry.

Once I made it to the cafe I searched for him, he was behind the counter in a almond colored apron. He had on a white long sleeve and it seemed to be that his pants were black. His hair was pulled into a small bun and I had to admit, it was cute. I sat at the counter, loving the fact that he hasn't noticed me. "Wow, this place is just lovely. But a cup of tea and milk would be fine, but some honey added along to it." I said with a tone that came off as humorous and teasing.

His face turned to mine and he held a big smile, one that I've been wanting to see. The one where you could physically see how deep of a crater his dimples make. "Now, tea with honey is not pleasing." he teased and I couldn't help but make a face. "No no, tea without honey is not pleasing." I recoiled and you could just sense the happiness radiating off of him.

He left for a brief moment to retrieve a cup of tea with me, including my honey and I thanked him for it. "So Harry, this is what you do." I told him, stirring my tea and taking a sip. He nodded, "It is a lot more busy than a bookstore." he smirked. I just rolled my eyes at him, smiling. I needed to get my mind off of that painting, off of that name. I needed to be distracted and Harry was a good distraction but I don't think he was that good. Maybe I'm just that screwed up. I don't know. But I could never bring myself to tell Harry how much one painting affected me, Sarah doesn't even know about my brother. No one knew but him. That's because he saw it, he witnessed my tragedy and I wouldn't speak to anyone.

"So, I'm hoping you got my letter?" he asked more as a question then a statement and it caused me to smile. "I did Harry, thank you for informing me on some of your life."

His smile made me feel safe in some way, "Do you have any siblings?" he asked. My body got cold just like it did yesterday. I shook my head, "No. I'm an only child."

My heart shattered at my statement that was clearly false. Just because my brother is dead doesn't mean that I was or am an only child. He just nodded, and attended another customer. That's kind of how today went. Harry would ask me questions and I would gear them away from my personal life to basic things; favorite color or favorite food or favorite movie. Things along those lines, I could answer, and I did. I was actually having a conversation and letting someone know stupid details about me. Why was Harry so different? Why was I able to tell him my favorite ice cream flavor but not tell him my mother's name? Or about the fact that I could easily speak with him and feel safe yet with Liam I only wanted him to know what Sarah explained to him.

I know I would have to explain everything one day to Liam. I've known him for almost a year. And I have a feeling I'll know him for a lot longer. Him and Sarah are made for each other and anyone with eyes could see it.

But me? There was no hope for me finding something like that, my hope was taken from me many years ago.

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Hi everyone! I'm currently watching the Puppy Bowl and I am crying from cuteness.