What it means to forgive
March 7th, 2026
Saturday, 10:46am
The Owlery
Saturday, 10:46am
The Owlery
To Grandma and Grandpa,
Hello. I don't know exactly how to start this letter. It occurs to me that I've never written to you before. Mom told me never to do so, nor did any of you ever write to her. I know that, and I know the kind of relationship you have had with her. To be honest, it frustrated me. But with the help of some people, I think it's time I finally write to you two.
My name is Emil. I am your grandson. My mom, Soraya, passed away almost a year ago. I don't know if you knew, or if you really care, but she's gone. After I cried and cried, when there wasn't anything left, I considered writing to you. But I was mad. Mad at you two for abandoning mom. Mad because, as much as she tried to hide why she wasn't talking to you guys, even a kid like me could figure it out. I pieced together that it was because you didn't like that she married my dad.
He's dead too, if you're wondering.
I don't know where nor even how I'd send this letter to you but my therapist told me to send it regardless. But after a few months of thinking to myself, I decided to finally write to you guys. Not because I agree with what you guys did to mom, nor because I think what you thought about my dad was okay.
But because, after thinking about it a lot I came to a conclusion. Maybe you haven't said it, or maybe you just don't want to admit it.
You must be sad too. Sad that your daughter is gone.
And so, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't reach out to you once mom passed away. I'm sorry that after losing family, I didn't reach out. I'm sorry I spent so much time mad at you instead of spending time mourning with someone else who knew mom like I did.
I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me.
I've written information about the place that I'm currently staying in now. But most of the time, I'm in the Gryffindor common rooms. If you ever want to reach out, I'd be happy to hear about what mom was like as a kid. I don't know anyone else who knows her anymore, so it'd be nice to talk to someone who did.
Your grandson,
Emil.
Last edited by Emil Roan on 10 Mar 2026, 02:31, edited 1 time in total.
What it means to forgive
Dear Miss Applebaum,
I don't know if you remember me. I'm the boy who lived next door, Emil. You know, from the house that was making all the noise in the basement that one time at 3am where you made a noise complaint?
Anyway, I wanted to write to you because I can't begin to imagine what you must have been thinking that night 10 months ago. Our house was in flames. I hope none of the flames made it to your house.
I'm writing because I don't know when I'll be back. I don't know what's going to happen to the house or if I'll ever see you again. My parents did pass away and I don't really know anything about what will happen to the house or the land or anything of the sort. I guess I'm still too young to understand all the paperwork.
So I wanted to write and... confess about a couple of things that I did.
It was me who took your lawn ornaments 2 years ago from your front porch. Please don't blame my parents, they had no idea. I wanted to do an experiment with some things in dad's lab and accidentally melted part of it. I was too scared to ask for permission and I thought I could get it back to you in one piece, but after I melted half it's face off I was too scared to put it back.
It was also me who opened the whole in your fence when your dog escaped last winter. I was playing with him through the fence and I accidentally broke a hole open when he went running free. I know it took you a few hours to find him afterwards and it didn't help that the snow was heavy that night either. I promised I helped look for him, but I was too scared to admit what I had done.
I'm writing because, well, you were a nice lady to me. I was scared to tell you these things because I didn't want you to hate me or hate my parents. I know I did bad things and I should have owned up to them, but I was afraid you'd hate me or complain to my parents. In hindsight, it seemed silly but and I don't want to say I was just a kid, because, well, I'm still a kid.
But if I ever get the chance to be your neighbor again, I hope we can start fresh and be good neighbors. It'd only be me this time, so probably less noise in the evening.
Your old young neighbor,
Emil Roan
I don't know if you remember me. I'm the boy who lived next door, Emil. You know, from the house that was making all the noise in the basement that one time at 3am where you made a noise complaint?
Anyway, I wanted to write to you because I can't begin to imagine what you must have been thinking that night 10 months ago. Our house was in flames. I hope none of the flames made it to your house.
I'm writing because I don't know when I'll be back. I don't know what's going to happen to the house or if I'll ever see you again. My parents did pass away and I don't really know anything about what will happen to the house or the land or anything of the sort. I guess I'm still too young to understand all the paperwork.
So I wanted to write and... confess about a couple of things that I did.
It was me who took your lawn ornaments 2 years ago from your front porch. Please don't blame my parents, they had no idea. I wanted to do an experiment with some things in dad's lab and accidentally melted part of it. I was too scared to ask for permission and I thought I could get it back to you in one piece, but after I melted half it's face off I was too scared to put it back.
It was also me who opened the whole in your fence when your dog escaped last winter. I was playing with him through the fence and I accidentally broke a hole open when he went running free. I know it took you a few hours to find him afterwards and it didn't help that the snow was heavy that night either. I promised I helped look for him, but I was too scared to admit what I had done.
I'm writing because, well, you were a nice lady to me. I was scared to tell you these things because I didn't want you to hate me or hate my parents. I know I did bad things and I should have owned up to them, but I was afraid you'd hate me or complain to my parents. In hindsight, it seemed silly but and I don't want to say I was just a kid, because, well, I'm still a kid.
But if I ever get the chance to be your neighbor again, I hope we can start fresh and be good neighbors. It'd only be me this time, so probably less noise in the evening.
Your old young neighbor,
Emil Roan