Dear Harry,
One day. My birthday is in one day. I can barely believe I actually made it to eighteen. I really can't believe it.
I haven't written to you in three days, but my hand was hurting too much to write. Ginny and her friends tripped me so I dropped my books and when I went to pick them up she stepped on my hand. I think it might be broken, but the pain while writing is bareable now, and I have to write. Writing to you makes me feel a little bit closer to you, which is weird because you don't even know me. I like the feeling I get while writing these letters though. Even when I get upset and cry over them there's still this pleasant feeling. Maybe that's why my teacher writes letters when she has something troubeling her. I think so.
Love, Florence.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Harry
FanfictionIn which a lonely girl writes letters to the boy she loves, the boy who doesn't even know she exist; to Harry Styles.
