The Silver Hope

I touch my necklace. Nothing is known about my biological parents. I only have this necklace as an heirloom. The pendant is shaped into a crescent moon with a star on the tip where a diamond lays in the center. Engraved on it is some writing I can't read. Just like my pendant, I also have a crescent-shaped birthmark with a star on my hip. My mom said it might go away in time like most birthmarks do. Mine seems to have become more prominent over the years. I sometimes imagine it sparkles. The wind picks up suddenly, swirling around me and I smell it. The scent of fresh cut grass and wood shavings. Two of my favorite things. "Do you smell that, my child? Follow it," says a woman's voice. I sat there thinking against it. The first time I heard voices, I freaked out my mom. She wanted me to see a psychiatrist because hearing voices isn't a good sign. I explained they were guiding me to do things. My mom said, "Ok, but before you do whatever these voices tell you to do, sit down and think before you do. AND, if it becomes too much to handle, tell me so we can go see an expert." So far, whatever I hear, hasn't gotten me into trouble. So why not follow that scent? As the wind picks up again, I jump off the fence and follow the scent. What will Hope find? Is she ready to learn the truth?