murder house / h.s

twenty nine.

Avery's POV

The day after, I actually planned to go out. The week before was spent in my bed without trying to eat. I had felt terribly depressed, but this day I had a decent amount of motivation. It hit me that I couldn't just let Harry and Spencer's physical deaths enact my emotional one.

I was going to the city hall.

"Bye mom." I said glumly. My pastel yellow purse was slung over my shoulder and my frilly pastel yellow skirt matched. I wore a striped black shirt with it and a light cardigan. It was supposed to be warm today.

"Bye sweetie. I'm still proud of you." she said, with a lack of emotion. Her tone begged to differ, but I didn't comment on the topic because I knew exactly how she felt. Harry's death had stricken me with gloom.

I walked out the door and was greeted by my mint green bike. I hopped on and drove to where I remembered the city hall to be. This time I didn't cry, even when I saw the happy couples and joyous families. I felt happy for them, and not envious for once in my life.

When I got to the city hall, the first thing that I saw was a big, white building. It had beautiful pillars and amazing scenery. It didn't fit with its surroundings.

I took careful steps up the staircase that led up to the front door. After walking through a series of halls, I made it to where I was instructed to go. It was a room with marble floors, and it was covered in endless amounts of possessions. Backpacks, laptops, phones, shoes. These all belonged to the deceased. I sucked in a tight breath when I saw it.

It took no longer than ten seconds to reach the other side of the massive pile. There it laid, on the top of a few bags.

A brown leather journal.

"Oh my god." I whispered to myself, tracing a light pattern with my fingers over the material of the journal. I blew away a thin layer of dust in order to read the front's print.

"Property of Harry Styles. Don't read please."

I laughed sadly, only because I could image him saying those words to me.

"Don't read my journal please. That wouldn't be very nice."

His words echoed in my mind like he was still alive. I could still picture his lively green eyes. I missed them glaring at me with a friendly grin.

I noticed a few smaller words next to the larger ones. It took a bit of squinting to read them, but when I did I felt a ghostly chill down my spine.

... unless you're aves.

"Oh my god." I whispered again, hopes in my heart that this meant what I thought it did. I grabbed the journal and held it between my arm and my chest, and scavenged through the belongings. I almost collapsed when I saw the blue backpack I had taken with me, and Harry's bandana he had worn until his grave.

It was beyond weird when I saw five numbers scrawled on the front of the cloth. Right next to them was what looked like coordinates.

7.5.15
34.0500° N, 118.2500° W

My breath hitched in my throat, because I knew exactly what that meant. There was a hidden message in this. A smile formed on my face for the first time in a while as I gathered all the items and made a mad dash out of the city hall. I stuffed everything in my bike basket, and then rode as fast as I could back home.

When I got to my room, I threw everything out on the bed and tried to make sense of my evidence. Every little thing that Harry or I had laid hands on during the game show, would be evidence.

There was a chance that Harry could still be alive.

• • • •

:)