The unsent letters of convicted double murderer Harry Styles, explaining why he ended up buried in a world of broken dreams. What happened to innocent till proven guilty?
( cover design: @crescend )
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day 11 ➜ a letter to the dead person I wish I could talk to
Dear Allister,
I'm this to you because you were the closest thing I came to extended family, as you were Mike's Dad. You spoke to me and spent time with not because you paid to do so, like your son, but because you wanted to.
Although I'd never want you to see me in this state. I wish you weren't dead because if you were here you'd be able to hold Mike in your arms and let him cry there like you did for me when I was eleven-year- old Harry.
I'm sure your son's hurting right now. Two children that grew under his care are utterly and completely ruined, me being one of them.
I remember the time in the summer you visited Aldertree and bought some goldfish. A week after you'd left them nearly half of them were dead and by a month all were dead but two-- because I fed them every day. I would sit in the living room and talk to them, but then you came back with a smaller tank for my room and told me to keep them in there. I was so grateful.
Right now my lower back's hurting a bit after sitting in such an uncomfortable position for so long.
I don't know why I'm thinking of this, maybe because you were a stranger then when I met you that is.
"So you're Harry is it?" You said looking down at me from your tall height.
I looked up at you. "You know me?"
"I haven't met you, son, but I feel like I know you, from everything my son's told me about you," you said and my eyes widened in surprise.
"Your son?" I asked.
You smiled. "Mike, the head care worker."
"Your Mike's Dad?" I asked looking at you more closely. Your hair was nearly all white, but I could see some brown parts near the sides of your face and you and Mike definitely shared some traits like your eye shape, nose shape and the gentle curve of your tight lipped smile. Although you had blue eyes and Mike had brown, oh and he had better skin too (but that's just age I guess).
"Yes," you answered.
"Mike talks about me?" I asked and you chuckled touching your chin.
"Nearly every day," you said.
"Really?" I whispered.
"Really. It's always Harry this or Harry that, I sometimes feel like you're his son and you're my grandson," you said and my mouth dropped wide open.
"A-Are you being s-serious?" I whispered.
"Come here, son, give'us a hug." You said, crouched down and held your arms out. I walked into them and you wrapped them around and patted my back. You were so warm so I wrapped my arms under yours, but they didn't touch because of your broad back.
