A young girl sat up in bed, kneading her blanket in her small, tender hands. The floor creaked and a door slammed shut downstairs. She gingerly set a foot on the floor and then another, tiptoeing to the door, her flannel blanket dragging behind her on the ancient hardwood. She crept down the hallway to the head of the stairs, peering down the stairwell. The warm glow from downstairs spilled golden on her small, adorable features, deep blue eyes and cascading blond hair. Hushed talking drifted up to her ears, just soft enough to not be understandable, but she knew her mother and father's voices like no one else's. The voices stopped.

"Pearl?" her mother called cautiously. The girl scuttled back down the hallway and crawled back into bed. There were fleeting footsteps on the stairs and the bedroom door opened with a bit of protest from the hinges. "Pearl?" The girl didn't answer, but hugged her blanket tighter against her. The woman slipped across the room and knelt beside her bed. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway and a tall, burly man creaked the door open. He crossed the room and stood beside the woman, who gently brushed a lock of flaxen hair back from the young girl's soft cheek.

"She's always so beautiful when she sleeps." the man said.

"Yes," the woman answered softly. "Goodnight, Pearl." The woman stood up and the man crouched down, gently kissing his daughter on the forehead.

"Sleep well." They left. Pearl squirmed beneath the covers and opened her eyes after she was certain they were gone. The moonlight streamed through window, casting a cross on the floor beside her bed. Pearl stared at the light on the ceiling, reflected by the tin dormer below the window. The light faded and then shone bright again. Pearl laid still in the bed, as though any movement might mean an alert to the breathless night of her still being awake. She stared at the ceiling, the crown molding, the plaster cracks. Ever since Pearl and her family - her mother and father - had moved into the Victorian house, the sounds, the smells, the feelings had been so different. Pearl always felt like she was being watched, especially in the backyard when she went to explore the lake. And the loneliness was inescapable. When she had lain sleepless in her bed in the city, the hum of cars on the interstate had been her lullaby, the car lights on her ceiling her constant comfort. But now there was nothing now, no sound, no lights, only the moon and the soft creaking of the oak branches outside her window. Pearl shifted in bed and quickly regretted it as the floor creaked beneath her preparing to swallow her up for her insolence.

She closed her eyes tightly and once again she felt the hard, cold marble floors beneath her feet. Pearl gazed around her, the land, the rolling hills and neatly plotted fields stretching beneath her feet. She raced down the marble stairs to the edge and skittered to a stop, looking breathlessly down at the drop, some three hundred feet to the valley floor, the forest canopy beneath her. It was always as breath taking, every single time. Pearl turned to back to the palace as she heard the flap of wings in flight. The bird, a raven, landed lightly on her shoulder, perhaps more elegantly than last time.

"That was better, Aven," said Pearl softly in her delicate, clear voice. She turned back to the precipice's edge. "Your claws don't hurt so much anymore."

"You've grown used to them, my child," the raven answered in a rasping voice. The girl nodded and gazed over the expanse to the pale blue horizon.

"Is the sun just rising?" Pearl asked.

"Yes," answered Aven. "Have you never been here for sunrise?"

"No," said Pearl. "It's pretty.I like the pink." The sun began to stretch its crimson fingers across the sky and the raven repositioned his wings.

"I thought you had." it said. Pearl shook her head, tossing her golden hair. The raven squawked and hopped to the ground, prancing and flapping its wings.

"Oh, come back," the girl said. "Come sit on my shoulder. I promise not to do that again. Please?" The raven cocked its head.

". up."

"Your mother," Aven hissed. "Come back again, my child. There is something you must see."

"I will!" shouted Pearl over her shoulder as she raced back to the palace, retracing her steps on the smooth marble. Pearl roused slowly and turned over.

"Hello, sleepyhead," said her mother softly. Pearl opened her eyes and smiled broadly. "Breakfast is ready, my dear. Your daddy is already downstairs. Come on then." The child climbed out of bed and slipped on the yellow sundress her mother had left her. Her small feet pattered down the hall and then the stairs.

"Good morning!" her father said, grabbing her on the final stair and swinging her, finally to land her in a chair at the kitchen table. The man turned to the woman and sighed. "How I want to hear a reply."

"I know, dear, I know," the woman said softly, barely more than a whisper. "But God has been kind. She is such a loving we know that without her voice."

"Yes, you're right," the man answered. "Just sometimes.I wish."

"Perhaps someday," the woman said wistfully. "Pearl, would you like some oatmeal?" The girl nodded happily and smiled her trademark sweet way. Her mother smiled back and spooned some into her bowl. The girl ate quickly as her father read the newspaper and then got down from the chair. She tugged on her mother's skirt and pointed towards the back door. "Sure. Just be careful, dear." Pearl stepped into the backyard and began the trek towards the lake, the surface silver with ripples as the sun shone down upon it. As the girl approached, she saw bubbles near the shore. She raced down to the edge of the dock and splashed the water. A large fin splashed back and Pearl giggled happily.

"Nava!" the girl called. From the surface of the lake rose a beautifully exquisite face, slick brown hair, and a pair of foamy green eyes, followed by shoulders.

"Greetings, my child," said the mermaid. Another of her kind surfaced beside her, a twin, and splashed Pearl playfully.

"Mara!" Pearl said. Mara smiled.

"You are earlier today than yesterday," Nava said.

"And last week," Mara added. "And the week before." She laughed. Pearl took off her shoes and set them on the smooth, worn planks of the dock, dangling her feet in the cool water.

"I talked to Aven this morning," Pearl said.

"And what did he say?" the twins asked simultaneously. They splashed each other playfully, misting Pearl's hair with the fine, crystalline drops.

"He said he had something to show me," she answered. The two mermaids froze and looked at the small girl.

"What will he show you?" Mara asked.

"He didn't tell me," Pearl said. "I had to leave."

"The time has come," Nava said softly to her sister. Mara turned back to her young human friend.

"Pearl, we love you," she said. "We want you to know that."

"We will always love you," added Nava. Pearl smiled.

"I love you too," she said. "Always and forever." The mermaids looked at each other momentarily and then turned back to their friend.

"We must go," Nava said.

"Goodbye," Mara called. With a flash of their tails, the two disappeared beneath the glowing, rippling surface of the lake. Pearl looked up to see the sun in the west of the sky, blazing down upon her just as it sank below the horizon. She had been talking to her friends all day. She raced up the slopping lawn to the house and burst in the back door.

"Oh, there you are, dear," said her mother. "I was just going to call you. It's time for dinner." Pearl washed her hands and sat down to the table, beside her father, who kissed her softly on the forehead.

"You look a bit sunburned, Pearl," he said. "Were you down by the lake all day?" Pearl nodded vigorously. Her father sighed. She and her family ate dinner and soon after, the small girl went to bed, trudging up the stairs tiredly. As Pearl curled up beneath the comforting warmth of her covers, her blanket pressed tightly against her, she closed her eyes. She opened them onto the marble floor, the cresent moon reflected perfectly, glittering at her feet. Pearl walked down the stairs, the celestial light streaming down, enveloping her.

"Aven!" she called. The echo of flapping wings rang through the crisp night air and the raven landed softly on her shoulder.

"My child," it said. "You have come. Follow me." It took two hops from the palace, down a small footpath along the cliff's end.

"Alright," said Pearl, giggling as she chased after the raven as it took flight. She followed it down trail, trees gradually closing in. Eventually, the foliage made a dark tunnel over the path and the twisted trunks were barely far enough apart for Aven's flapping wings. Pearl trudged along behind, the hem of her nightgown trailing on the ground. "How much farther, Aven?"

"Not far, my child, not far," the raven said. A few minutes later and it swooped down to the ground, spreading its wings to full span and stopping Pearl in her tracks. Aven took a few hops as the young girl followed him. Suddenly, the silver light burst as they entered a large glade circled by trees. Each of the trunks was a human body, carved into the living bark of the living wood. The hands help up the canopy. The heads hung limp against their chests; men, woman, children, all stood around her, perfectly lifeless and yet so real. Pearl could almost feel their breathing, could almost hear their thoughts.

"Aven, where are we?" Pearl asked cautiously, taking a step towards one of the trees.

"The Forest of Souls," Aven answered. "When people love us, my child, they come to live with us, here. They are all our friends. Now they are with us to be loved forever." Pearl touched the bark lightly. It was surprisingly smooth and warm, skin. She could feel a heartbeat buried deep beneath the surface, a faint pulse, some life beneath the layers. Pearl recoiled. "And we love you, my child. Forever. We want you to want to show you, my child."

"Yes," answered Pearl.

"Do you love us, my child?" Aven asked.

"Yes," the small girl said.

"Would you love us forever?" the raven hissed.

"Yes." Pearl replied quietly.

"Close your eyes." Aven commanded. The small girl obeyed. When she opened them, the raven was on her shoulder, her claws holding tight to her nightgown. They stood on the dock, the planks smooth and cool beneath her feet. Mara and Nava rose out of the water in front of them. The moonlight turned the small drops of water on their hair and faces into diamonds. They smiled at Pearl.

"Come with us, my child," said Nava.

"Come swim with us," Mara pleaded.

"Let us love you forever," cooed Aven. Pearl slowly slipped off her shoes and dangled her feet off the dock, into the water. The cool, soothing sensation crept up her legs and enveloped her. Nava and Mara opened their arms to her.

The sun high above head and the search long under way, Pearl's mother screamed and her father came racing down to the dock.

"Her shoes." she said breathlessly. "She couldn't swim."

Her mother and father had the lake dredged again and again for their dear Pearl's body. Nothing was found but the odd fact that in the freshwater lake, the bottom was littered with small, beautiful pearls.

[A/N: Just for my own sanity, would everyone please notice the symbolism of a mute girl with a fantastic mind as compared to a pearl in an oyster. Thank you. ^.^;]