As I Lay Dying

Prologue

My dearest Evelyn,

I'll never send you this letter. I already know that it will just be added to growing pile that I write to you but am far too much of a coward to send.

I'm not entirely sure why I write these phantom letters to you... But then I don't think I'm  sure of anything any more. I don't even know if I was ever anything before I was Private Styles.

Yesterday Joey Peters died. Do you remember him? He was that little kid who used to tag along with all the older children. You must remember, he had a mop of red curls and a constantly runny nose. We were always trying to get him to stop following us.

Yesterday I watched as a bullet tore a hole through his chest.

It's a strange thing to watch a man die. He stared at me, a plea on his face as the light in his blue eyes faded and he just became yet another body. Just another poor mothers son who'll never come home.

He was only 17.

I stared at his body for a second then carried on running. I didn't even stop to shed a tear for the boy I'd known my entire life.

Sometimes I wonder if my life before this was just a dream, a fantasy that I've created to escape from all this. Surely that world wasn't real? How could I have known such happiness in a world where such evil exists?

When we are children we're taught that good always wins, light always prevails over darkness. I remember those fairy stories you so loved when we were children. How could we have been so naive?

Believe me Evie, the things that I've seen, the incredible brutality that one man can inflict on another... Well I've never seen anything good in this world that could scar my soul as the darkness has.

I can't remember when I stopped feeling. I've tried every hour since Joey died to grieve. It seems so wrong that he should die in a muddy battlefield without a single tear shed over him. But I can't. I can't even remember what pain or sorrow or even grief feels like anymore.

Sometimes though... Sometimes, nights like tonight, when I'm sat out on watch, listening to the sound of gunfire and groans of pain; my mind seems to desperately seek some happiness, some light in this world.

And my thoughts always turn to you.

Sometimes when I'm cold and afraid, which is far too often these days, my mind turns the soft warmth of your body, the sweetness of your smile.

I've changed so much Evie. I'm haunted, tortured by ghosts, they surround me constantly.

Ghosts of friends I've seen die. The ghost of that poor German boy who stared into my eyes as the bullet of my gun extinguished the spark of his soul.

And the ghost of you. The ghost of your kisses, your smiles.

But you'd ceased to be mine before I even left England.

I don't know if you ever regret the choice you made Evie, but I think in doing what you did, you killed part of my soul before I'd ever witnessed all that I have. The pain of that memory still bites as deep and fresh as if it were new.

I owe you a debt of gratitude though, because without the memories you've left me with, I don't think I'd have the strength to believe that there is some happiness and beauty left in the world to keep fighting for.

I hope with all my heart that you're safe and happy wherever you are. I wish nothing but but the best for you and I hope that if you ever do think of me, you do so with a smile.

I hope the anger and tears of our final parting seem as irrelevant to you as they do now to me.

I meant what I said Evelyn. I'll always love you and I hope he makes you as happy as I once foolishly thought I could.

All my love

Yours truly

Harry