Yours

November 16th

Sophia I love you. I need you. I’m really scared. I’m not really scared I don’t know what I am. I don’t feel right. I think I might be a bit drunk. I’m not a drunk I promise it was just an accident I panicked and didn’t know what to do. My hand hurts but I need you to know. It feels all cold and hard. I got a letter today. I should have told you right away that would have made sense. I was stupid. I got a letter from my aunt. She’s called Aunt Angela and I don’t really know her at all. I think she has two or three kids but I don’t remember their names right now. I think one of them is called Ben. I have a cousin called Ben somewhere. The letter was from my Aunt Angela and it wasn’t a good letter. It was telling me my dad died. He died in a hospital in London. It was something to do with his kidney. I don’t know if it was expected or not. The letter made it sound like it wasn’t a big surprise but maybe it was. It was to me. He was already dead to me though. I didn’t know him. I don’t know if I really care. I don’t think that makes me a bad person. I don’t know what I’m meant to feel. I didn’t care about the letter and I still don’t. It just made me feel cold. I don’t think that makes me bad. I think he was a bad person. He used to yell at me and yell at my mum and he left us for no reason to go to his other family that he had in secret. He probably would have left them too if he had lived long enough. Maybe it’s good he died. He can’t hurt anyone else. It shouldn’t be a good thing when people die. It’s raining so much it’s making it hard to concentrate. There was more to the letter too. It said she tried calling me but couldn’t track me down. I don’t like answering the phone. It’s never good news. That’s why she sent me a letter instead because she wanted me to know. She says the funeral is on Wednesday. She tells me what tube stop in London to get off at and then directions if I walk from the station. They don’t make sense to me at the moment though. I don’t know where the place is. I don’t think I want to go. If I don’t go then I’ll never have been to my dad’s funeral. I don’t want to spend a day at a funeral but I don’t want to have missed it either. I wouldn’t know what to wear or who to talk to or how to make sure I looked sad or anything like that. I don’t know anything. I’ve read the letter loads of times. I walked up and down in the kitchen reading it over and over. I wanted it to tell me how to feel. I wanted more out of it. I went back to the envelope in case there was another note but there wasn’t. I wanted an apology. I’m only sad I didn’t get an apology from him. He got away with it all. It made me angry. The letter made me angry. I don’t see why I should feel sorry that he died. He should be the one who feels sorry. I saw an old bottle of champagne up on the cabinet with all the nice plates in. I don’t know if alcohol can go off if you leave it too long but it’s made me feel really funny. I just wanted to do something to change how I was feeling and I opened it. I didn’t mean to. I should have spoken to you instead. I’m so stupid. My hand hurts loads for some reason. I love you. There isn’t anything to worry about.