The chill wind rippled across the dark waters, whipping my long hair across my face.
I tucked it behind my ear for the tenth time, and removed my glasses, wiping the lenses of the spatter that had begun to cloud my vision.
Picking up my pencil, I once more began to sketch the seal pups playing in the ocean in front of me.
One of the things I had always loved about Bardsley island was the sea.
It was also what had taken my parents from me ten years ago.
My mum and dad had always had a love for sailing, and after bringing me to my Nan's house on the hill, they had left to go to the mainland.
A storm had swept in within minutes of them setting out, and they hadn't been able to return. Their boat was found a week later, capsized.
No one was able to see them ever again.

I lived with my nan and grandad after that, and grandad passed just a few years ago. He had been a big influence on my life, and had taught me to sail like he had my dad before me. I had always loved the sea, and it taking my parents from me had not affected that as grandad thought it would.

I had a very normal childhood, my Nan and grandad would go to the mainland every month to shop for food and other necessities before retiring to our stone cottage on the hill.

My birthdays were always something to look forward too.
I never had a big party, as there were no other children that lived on Bardsey. But nan would bake a vanilla cake with her special buttercream frosting that just melted when it hit your tongue. My gifts were always wrapped with colourful paper, and every year I was given two.
One from nan, one from grandad.

The year that I was seven years old, nan bought me new pencils and notebooks for school, which she woke me every morning to teach me from our kitchen table.
Grandad went all out, buying me a set of books which I was soon enthralled with. They were by an English writer, j.k. Rowling, and they were about a young boy, harry potter, who went to a magical school for witches and wizards. I knew no such place existed, but it didn't stop me from wishing I, too could go to Hogwarts.

When my eleventh birthday came, it was the first year without Grandad.
Nan baked me my vanilla cake, and gave me a lovely leather journal.
As I stared across at the empty seat, I couldn't help but wish grandad was there too. That was when Nan surprised me.

"There's one more." She said, the wrinkles by her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

She slid the shiny pink package over to me, her weathered hands shaking.
"Thank you." I smiled politely, never before had gran given me two gifts.
As I looked at the gift tag, I noticed it was not my Nan's beautiful cursive writing, but another. My grandfather's.

"He found it in your fathers things you know." She smiled brighter.
"He wanted to give it to you himself for your birthday, he knew you'd be so excited."

I nodded. Grandad had always loved surprises.
I tentatively opened the package, my eyes lighting up at the sight before me.
I opened the card first, reading excitedly.

My darling Rosalie,
Happy birthday my dear.
You are growing to be a beautiful young girl, the spitting image of your mother. I daresay I see a few of my features in yours as well.
I've made this for you as a constant reminder of how much your mother and I love you.
Protect this, never lose it, and always keep it close to you.
May it always show how much we love you.
Love,
Dad

Inside the letter lay a small pendant, as I lifted it to the sun, the crystal shimmered and glinted various hues of purple, blue and black. Etched in the center was a single rose.
It was the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen.

I immediately put it on, and to this day have only taken it off for short instances. It is a reminder of my family, and no matter what obstacle is in between us, even death, I know they are always on my mind and in my heart.

The rest of the day was quiet.
I tended the chickens and goats we had, and sat by the fireplace to finish reading a book for my English assignment.

All day I waited anxiously for a letter, somehow expecting an owl to fly through the front door. I knew hogwarts was just a simple story, but it didn't keep me from wishing. Somehow receiving my necklace just made me think maybe something else unexpected would happen.

I did not receive a letter that day, even as I watched the door stirring that nights stew. I went to bed that evening, exhausted. I felt silly waiting for a letter, and as I changed into my pyjamas, I figured there was no use wishing for a fictional school. The problem with that was, I suppose, I never thought my owl may have gotten delayed. And as I went to bed that evening I would've never thought my owl was just a tad late.

Four years later, I found out just how late it was.