Dear Evan,
I am going to miss you terribly and I apologize for the sopping paper. My tears are just flowing. I'm sorry I had to leave this way, without warning or anything. My mother is considering me staying but my father insist otherwise. I'm going to live with my mother in this small town in WA called, "Hunts Point". The disappointing population of 443 people is frankly a little bit frightening. I'm afraid I won't be able to find anyone as fun and random as you.
I miss you already! As you are reading this I am on a lonely plane to Washington. I will write to you as soon as my "FireFox" is up and running. I must end this letter with a loving goodbye. I'm almost late for the plane and my father is almost teary-eyed. I hope you don't miss me too much. I love you Evan. Nothing will change for me. Except for the awkwardness my mother and I will have.
Missing You,
Silver
P.S.
It's never going to be the same without you.
Hello,
My name is Silver Skye. I'm currently on a plane to Washington, but will soon be living with my oh-so "lonely" mother. I used to visit her every winter but my visits recently became hour visits due to the plans my father and I had made. My mother and I don't talk much. We usually sit in the quiet reading. She never really minds though. My father is a chef up in Oregon. I have this terrible feeling I won't see him for a while. I neither have my mother or my father's last name. The name Skye came from one of my favorite literature books. I'm very fond of mystical beings and such.
My very best friend, Evan Michaels, he is staying behind in Oregon. We did everything together. I think the only thing not allowed was anything that had to do with a bathroom public or private. We were best friends. I think you must know what I look like physically. This in my opinion is very simple.
I have white almost silver hair, hence my name. My hair reaches my shoulders. It goes straight down curls up at random. No one knows why. My eyes are a hazel gray color. My skin tone light but still contrast with my hair in some ways. I'm not that tall maybe 5'7", no taller than my mother which is 5'8". Simple details in my face say mostly what I am about. I have one silver scar across my left eye. I received it when I was about 3 years young. My father never told me how this happened or why it has turned silver. Yet I feel it is a part of who I am.
I am not quite skinny, but I'm not chubby either. I usually wear black pants and a solid color shirt (or maybe just two or three colorful tank tops). I think that about wraps up what I look like. I think its about time you know my story. Or rather-the story of this small town.
I stepped off the plane and a shiver went through me. It was very foggy and quite cold for my taste. Now living in Oregon for my 17 year life I never went out during winter. Meaning I wasn't very fond of the cold. I had left home in my red ruffled boots over my black skinny jeans. With that I wore a red lacy tank top covered in my black leather jacket.
As I got off the plane a gust of wind blew, making my hair reach up as to touch the sky. I quickly took the opportunity to pop my collar. Stepping down the stairway of the plane, the clanking of my stiletto shoes sounded more significant. Everything was so clear and separated. Every little detail so prominent.
The fog made it difficult to see the short man waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He was in an all black tuxedo and a top hat.
"How was your flight madam?" said the man waiting.
"Intriguing as was boring. Thank you." was the only reply I could muster.
"Well I assure you the ride to your mothers will be much more...salient. Let me take your bags."
