Silent Whispers

I sat under the branches of the ancient oak tree, my eyes staring blankly ahead. This had always been my sanctuary, a place where I could escape the overwhelming memories that haunted me around every  corner of the farm. My long, snow-white hair fluttered in the gentle breeze, a stark contrast to the green of the field around me.

    I often thought about how Monica, my foster mom had found me. It was a story she had told me countless times, but I never grew tired of hearing it. twenty years ago, Monica had been walking through the woods behind the farm when she heard a faint, pitiful cry. Following the sound, she stumbled upon a basket partially hidden among the undergrowth. Inside was a baby girl with hair as white as the purest snow and eyes that seemed to hold the depth of the sky.

    There was no note, no indication of where I had come from or who my parents might be. Monica, with her kind heart and nurturing spirit, had immediately taken me to the hospital to make sure I was healthy. Despite numerous attempts by social workers to find my biological parents, no one came forward. Monica, unable to bear the thought of me being placed in an overcrowded system, decided to become my legal guardian.

    Over the years, I had come to accept my past. I never felt unwanted or unloved because Monica had filled my life with more warmth and affection than I could have ever wished for. She was my mother in every sense of the word, and I loved her deeply.

    But now Monica was gone, and the farm, once a place of love and laughter, had become a prison of grief. I couldn't escape the memories of her that were at every corner of the house. To make matters worse, I had started hearing strange whispers, voices that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. They were faint, but persistent. Sometimes they sounded like my mother, sometimes like strangers. It was enough to make me question my sanity.

    Sitting under the oak tree, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil within me. Monica had spent countless hours with me here, sharing stories about the tree's ancient wisdom that flowed through the land. Monica had believed in things that others dismissed as fairy tales, and though I had always been skeptical, there was something comforting in those old legends.

    “ Meara!”

    The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers.

    " Come... find... me..."

    The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

    " I... have come... for you…"

    I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Monica had always taught me to trust my instincts, and right now, my instincts were telling me to listen. As I gazed around the field, I noticed some movement far in the distance, coming from the canopy of trees just at the edge of the forest. It was a fox as white as snow, almost blending into the sunlight filtering through the trees.

    Curiosity overwhelmed me, so I stalked closer cautiously. The fox stood still as I approached, its bright eyes watching me intently, as if it was waiting for me. There was something almost magical about it, something that drew me in.

    " It is time," the whispers in my head stated.

    I paused, my heart pounding. The fox turned and began to walk into the forest, glancing back at me as if waiting for me to follow it. Without fully understanding why, I found myself compelled to follow it. I moved through the dense underbrush, my eyes fixed on the fox as it walked gracefully between the trees.

     As I got nearer, the fox stopped and turned to face me.

 " I am Merilla, your spirit animal," it said, its voice soft yet commanding. " I have come to take you home to Valtor."

    Hesitant, I took a step back. " Wait, if you're my spirit animal, where have you been all these years? Why are you only appearing now?"

    Merilla’s eyes softened. " We were separated when we were both very young. Our bond never had the chance to develop fully, and because of that, I couldn't sense your presence until now. Your longing, your sadness, and your need for comfort after Monica's passing awakened our bond. I was finally able to sense your presence and follow it back to the human world."

    I frowned, trying to process her words. " So, you're saying my grief brought you here?"

    " Yes," Merilla said. " Your emotions were powerful enough to bridge the gap between our worlds. Now, it's time for you to discover where you came from and who your biological parents were."

    I hesitated, still unsure. " Why should I trust you? How do I know you're not just a figment of my imagination?"

    Merilla's gaze was steady and unwavering. " Trust your instincts, Meara. You know in your heart that what I'm saying is true." I knew what she was saying must be true. How come no one could ever find my parents over the years?

    Taking a deep breath, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. Monica had always told me to trust my instincts, and right now, my instincts were telling me to follow Merilla.

    " Alright," I said finally. " I'll follow you."

Merilla turned and led the way into the forest. We walked the entire night, the forest growing darker and more mysterious with each passing hour.