I flipped through the crinkly, rough pages of my four year old diary; pouring tears. I can't get his image out of my brain. I turn a few more pages and finally see that old picture. My best friend and I four years ago. His name was Harry. Harry Styles to be exact. I remember all of our precious memories together. All of the times we've played in the colorful Autumn leaves. Frolicking through the tall, and green Summer grass. Oh, how I miss those days. I scanned the picture as I let more tears manage to slip down my face. I miss him so much. Why must we grow up? Leave our families and find our calling in the world? I still don't understand. I just wish that he were here to help me. Now that my aunt has passed, I have nothing here in England. I turned the page to find his old number. I laughed, "This couldn't possibly still be his number." I wiped the water off my face and dialed the number. "Hello?" A woman answered...
