My eyes slowly cracked opened to see a thin line of light blinding me. The white curtains were covering the windows, but they still let in strands of light. The room though was still slightly dark for it was only dawn. The wooden floor was nearly frozen. I let out a shaky breath, and got up from the floor making the wood creak slightly. I wrapped myself in the only thin blanket I had with me.

The room was my own private room, connected to my bedroom, and only held a desk made out of white marble. My fingers touched it gently. Besides the desk, there were no other pieces of furniture. The floor was scattered with many different envelopes and pieces of papers. There was a pile of stamps on that side and crumpled sheets of paper on the other.

After taking a glance at everything, I began to clean up the small room. I picked up the red envelopes first.

I remembered that this was the first envelope I used to send him my letter. When I was nine, I had a pen pal. Although it sounded fairly foolish and silly, we would mail our letters to each other every week. It had begun when my father decided that I needed to know my fiancé better. But, he wanted me to use traditional methods of communication rather than ways such as texting.

I placed the empty envelopes in one of the drawers of the desk.

I spent hours on those letters. I couldn’t even write a simple greeting without deep thought and struggle. I was a stupid child.

My fingers plucked the 8 by 5 pieces of paper up next.

But before, I could actually write the letter, I had to choose the type of paper I would write on. I had a variety of pieces of paper for the letters. They were all different sizes and colors with patterns and borders. In this very room, I would lay all those out and stare at them carefully. There would be those occasions when I bawled because I regretted the piece of paper I used, but it had been too late. The letter was already sent.

I shivered slightly. It was January, and although the heater was on, this room was always cold. Filled with only the sorrow of the past, no wonder it was so cold. I rubbed my hands together to warm myself up.

Seven years ago, at the crack of dawn, I waited out there in the cold winter in January. With earmuffs and mittens on, I stood near the Iron Gate that was a few minutes away from the main estate. Everyone disapproved for they feared I would catch a cold, but mother allowed me. Mother always loved the winter. The security guard who was in charge of opening and closing the gates would always have hot chocolate for me. I would sip it quietly as I listened for the cling sound. And then it came. The mail man would drop the mail off at the silver mail box, and I would rush out with hot chocolate spilling on the snow white ground, just to grab that flimsy piece of paper. His letter. I held it tightly next to my heart, scared that it might vanish into thin air like the snow.

The paper would always smell like sweet apples. His paper and envelope were always white, but his letter was more colorful than a rainbow. His words made me see the red flowers, the blue skies, and the green grass without me being there. They were always so elegant and gentle.

I looked at the room now. By now, I had already picked up almost everything. Something though rolled to my feet. I slowly looked down and saw it was a silver pen. I bent down and twirled it in my hand mindlessly. The word truth was engraved in gold on it. I remember mother had gotten it for me when I turned nine. I would use it to write those letters. That’s all this pen was used for. When I held this pen back then, I poured out everything in me onto that piece of paper.

I stood up with the pen in hand.

Maybe that’s why I treasured these letters so much. They held a part of my soul. I would tell him my fears, my hopes, my dreams. And he would respond back just as truthfully.

I stood there feeling the blissful memories the pen contained. My eyes slowly reopened because nothing is eternal.

On Dec 28, I had sent a letter on that day, and I would be turning ten in six days. On January 4, the snow was falling lightly, and the security guard was not there. Apparently, he had gotten into an accident. There was no hot chocolate, but I was okay. I rubbed my hands together because it was chilly outside. I waited, and the mail man finally came. I jumped up and grabbed for the letter like always. Today’s letter was going to be more special than the others.

I remembered that feeling when my hands grabbed at nothing. Nothing, but the snow. The snow melted quickly in my palm. I waited outside the next week, and the week after that. My ten year old self couldn’t understand what was happening. I realized then that the letter was never going to come. Like snow, my happiness melted and disappeared as if it never existed. The only thing left was the cold feeling to remind me painfully just enough of what was.

I placed the pen in a special silver box that was on top of the white table. I locked all the drawers, and then threw the key into the box with the pen. I let out a sigh and then looked up to see my reflection in the mirror that was part of the desk as well. It showed me from my torso and up.

I looked ghostly with my loose white long sleeve shirt. My black hair was let down all over my face. I had circles that were gray and dark around my eyes which were sunken. My cheeks were sallow and my skin was tinged with gray. I raised my hand to just to make sure it was me. My hand dropped down heavily.

“Lady Jiwon!” A knock came to this door. It was a hard rap on the door that pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Come in” I said faintly. My attendant came in, making a gust of wind fill the room. The windows of the small room opened simultaneously filling the room with a cold chill. I tightened the blanket around me, but my eyes then caught something floating out the window. It was the first letter I had gotten from my pen pal. I must have not tightly closed one of the drawers, but it was too late. The piece of paper vanished in an instant into the white world outside. Gongchan's eyes opened widely and shut the windows quickly. My fingers tightened as my heart silently cried out.

“Ah! Lady Jiwon! Why are you here? Oh dear, please don’t tell me you slept in here?” He eyed the blanket wrapped around me and the pillow on the ground.

“It is very cold in here, so please, milady, shall we go out? I have tea prepared,” He urged me softly. I ignored him and gazed outside. It started to snow. I longed to go outside to find that letter, but I never go outside, not when it was snowing. Not anymore.

“What’s the date today?” I asked quietly. My attendant was silent for a moment before he spoke.

“January fourth, milady,” He responded..

My mouth smoothed into a small, melancholic smile ‘No wonder I lost something again’ my eyes closed trying to remember the words of that letter.

“Happy 16^th Birthday, Lady Jiwon,”