Silver

Part 1: (pov Olivia)

Beautiful. That word filled my mind as I stared into the beautiful morning. The weather was warm, and the grass was covered in light drops of dew. There was barely a cloud in the sky. I was sitting on my small bed, my skirt pooled around me. As I was staring out the window at the wonders of nature, I noticed a small blue bird with a note tied to its leg sitting on my windowsill.

As I walked over to it, my steps were light to not scare it away. I picked it up gently and removed the note from its leg. Its wings fluttered, and its head shook. I could not imagine the beauty it could have encountered during its travel. Was it sent from a master nearby or another kingdom? I couldn't help but wonder. My curiosity for the bird quickly faded as I remembered the note. I had been fiddling with it as I pondered the bird. 

It had arrived at my home, so I believe I have the right to open it. I pulled on the opposite sides of the string to untie the string around it, and I unraveled the rolled-up note.

"To whomever this letter finds its way to, I believe I am going mad from solitude. Despite the people that surround me, I am unable to truly speak with someone, and it is unbearable. If you feel so inclined to respond, give Mari (the bird) a note and raspberries."

I lifted my small white cat off the ground and spun around. "Oh, isn't it truly delightful fluffy!" I was smiling from ear to ear; I had never had a pen pal before. I walked over to my desk, the room was warm with a light breeze coming through the open window, and I picked up my glass pen. It felt cool and heavy in my hand, although it only weighed a few ounces. As I prepared to write, I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My excitement was uncontainable. I put the pen on the paper and began to write.

"Hello, my name is Olivia, and I would be honored to exchange letters with you. I am overwhelmed with sympathy for your situation, for I also can not have a true conversation with those I surround myself with. Your bird is quite beautiful."                                      -olivia 

The pen moved smoothly as I quickly traced the words into the parchment.

I gently picked the bird up and walked down the small hallway to the kitchen. I opened the pantry and pulled out a box of raspberries. I placed them in my palm. The bird bent down and plucked them gently from my hand. As I held him, His blue feathers were soft and delicate. I wondered how fate had brought him to me.

 Though I wished I could keep him and forever admire his beauty, I knew I had to send him on his way. I tied my note to his foot gently so as not to hurt him. I placed him softly on the windowsill and stared at him until his wings flapped, and he took flight. As I watched Mari fly off into the distance, I was quite overwhelmed. I began to feel tears building up in my eyes.

My fingers dug into the seam of my skirt as I ran to my bedroom. Upon my arrival, I quickly shut the door, buried my head into my pillow, and cried. Sending this letter forced me to acknowledge my all-consuming loneliness. I had refused to acknowledge it before, but it was always there. Looming over me like a dark cloud in a clear sky. 

My mother had always been there for me, but she had been distant as of late. I held the necklace she had gifted me in my hand. It was a thin chain with a beautiful green gem attached. The story of how I had received this necklace was almost as beautiful as it was. 

When I was a young girl, I would walk with my mother to the market each Saturday. I would walk through beautiful fields of Lily's, and my mother would always let me pick one, and she would braid it into my hair so that I could be lovely. We would walk past a shop with what appeared to be hundreds of beautiful gems and sparking jewelry. 

I would always stop and stare. Sometimes, I would ask to go to the market just to walk into the shop and look at the jewelry. I never asked for anything because I knew we couldn't afford it, but I had always hoped. I hadn't known that my mother had been saving for years. She would save extra pennies from when we went to the market. By my 11th birthday, she had managed to save enough to purchase a small necklace for me. 

I was enamored with it when it was first given to me. I would stare at it for hours at a time as though it was going to disappear one day. 

My mother was a kind woman; she would help all who asked. I remember baking pies with her for Ms. Gertrude down the road when she was ill. We would help pick flowers for weddings; we would volunteer with the children on Sundays. We would do those things together. That is how it had always been, but I suppose all good things must come to an end.