Change (punk h.s.)

Chapter 42

HARRY'S POV

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, why?", she asks with a shaky, rushed voice.

"You sound a bit... stressed"

"Babe, I'm fine"

"Babe?", I would be lying if I said I am not smiling from ear to ear.

"Uh-huh", I can hear her smile just by the sound of her voice. "How long will you be gone?", she asks and I hear someone cough in the background. "I'll be there in a second", she harshly whispers.

"For few hours, probably", I answer. "Are you sure everything is fine?"

"Not really", she lets out a little laugh. "Take your time", she says and hangs up. I remove the phone from my ear and look at it questioningly.

"Is something wrong?", my mother asks. I shrug and put my phone back in my pocket. "Are you sure?"

"Mum, I just did this", I say and shrug again.

"Sorry", she apologizes. "You usually shut down from me. Well you've been doing it for years but--", she starts but I cut her off.

"Mum, I'm sorry", I sigh. "Can we just get to the point"

"Des called me today"

"Dad?", she nods.

Des Styles. My father. Father who I have not seen since the year of 2007. I was 13 back then. He left us, like Sydney's father. I probably should have told her that when she told me about him but... I've completely shut it down from my mind, shoved it to the deepest part of it and now, it came back. It hit me like a train. "What about him?", I ask as calmly as I can.

"He's in trouble", she starts. "I think you could help him", she continues and I can feel my brows arching in confusion. "He's currently in Philadelphia and he needs help with his job. Since you do the same thing for a job, I thought you might be able help", she finishes. I can tell she is struggling to keep her voice calm. I know this is a delicate subject to her. It always has been when it comes to my father. It's the same thing with Sydney. I understand her... kinda. "He's in trouble, Harry. He needs help and he needs it fast" and wait he's a drug dealer? When did he start selling drugs?

"When will I be leaving?", I ask, leaning back on the couch.

"In two days"

"In two days?", I yell out.

"Honey, I know it's soon but it's Des. It's your father."

"Why should I? What makes you think I give a fuck about what he's doing? He left us! He could've sta-", my mum cuts me off before I can finish.

"I found the letters, Harry", she whispers and suddenly the air is gone from my lungs. Not the letters...

Friday, June 22nd, 2007

Hey dad.

It's a week since you left and I really, really do miss you. I am not the only one either.

Mum has been crying the whole time. She's been incapable to do anything really. She's been lying in bed all day, every day. I've visited your bedroom, that is now only hers, every hour, maybe twice in a hour. I might have lied there for a while just holding her. She's been crying non stop. She's miserable dad. Why did you have to leave?

Gemma... Gemma is not doing good at all dad. She misses you. She misses how you two used to watch that stupid show (I don't remember what is called, but I think it is stupid) every Thursday night. She misses how you used to tell stories to her, to us all. She misses how you still used to wish her goodnight with a little peck on the cheek. She always pretended to be grossed out by it, to be embarrassed about it but I know she loved it.