A Letter To Harry

chapter 1.

Dear Harry,

I'm lost without you.

Mum thought that it would be a good idea to write these letters to you, to say my thoughts and feelings as if you can hear me.

The whole night I haven't stopped crying, the pain of you not being with me anymore is unbearable, and I fear that I'm not going to get used to being on my own. Whatever Ellie said, it isn't true. None of it was true.

I would never cheat on you Harry. Never.

You meant everything to me, and I would never want to hurt you.

I miss you, and I will always love you. I'll be here waiting.

Love, Casey.

I clicked the pen closed. My alarm clock for 6:45 am rung in my ear, and I wiped my last tear from my red, patchy skin. I had been up for hours, replaying the moment in my head. The moment it ended. Us arguing with the blasting music from the club behind us. The pain in Harrys eyes. The anger in his voice. And then the "We're done."

That word, "done" was the thing that made my heart drop and the never-ending tears start to fall. The word meant that it was over, we were over. At first, I thought he would turn around, say he didn't mean it and that we could work things out. But when he hung his head down and walked away without turning back at me once, I knew that he meant it.

My thoughts were interrupted by my mum and dads screaming. I sat there, listening to the muffled shouting. I heard the thudding of the stairs, the slam of the door, more shouting from in between walls. And then silence.

Using the remaining energy that I had left, I slowly got out of bed. I looked up at the picture-perfect memories printed on the walls, mine and Harry's happy faces gazing down at me. The curtains blocked all sunlight from my bedroom, clothes were scattered around, cups and plates were piled on my desk and pages of my writing had escaped from its folder, messily sat on the floor.

I looked back at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were swollen with black smears of mascara on my cheeks. My hair was loosely tied in a bun, strands of hair poking out. I grabbed the packet of wipes from my dressing table, rubbing the rough material under my eyes, wiping my face clean. I took of my shorts and baggy t-shirt and slid into my work uniform, and then I left for work.

Britghton was warm that day, the sun still shining but the clouds blocking out the light. The sea was calm and all was heard was the crashing of the waves and birds singing in the sky.  It was quite early, so the only people around were dog walkers and runners.

I walked around the corner of the empty street to the Beachwood café. Everything about that café felt like home to me. The flowers always stood proudly by the window, showing off their beautiful petals. The floor was a checkered yellow and blue with a delicate wallpaper. At the desk, there were many of our home made treats, cookies, cakes, doughnuts and many pastries. The café was my first job, it was where me and Harry first met. His face was always happy and welcoming; we got on really well and really fast. The café was quiet and peaceful, everyone that visited the café spoke softly, it was always a calm place to be.

I walked into the rich smell of coffee and its owner, Anne, was stood by the kitchen waiting to welcome me. Anne was possibly the purest soul I knew, she had been by mine and Harry's side for years, supporting us unconditionally and always treating us like she was our second mother.

"I- I'm sorry I'm late Anne, I'll make it up to you, I promise" I stuttered, rushing in.

"It's alright love, you really don't have to- "