Her gaze was on the floor, small hands gripping the fabric of her dress tightly, She had just turned eight years old, and the information had hit her like a truck. Her parents, mother and father, had been 'to caught up in work' to come celebrate with her. It was always something like that, 'to busy with work' 'something came up with work' 'sorry Sunday, but I must go into work now, be good for your nannies.' Always. Work. She was positive she couldn't remember a time where it wasn't work.
She could feel her Mama's hands around her, holding Sunday close, she closed her eyes tight and leaned on her shoulder. Shoulder's lightly shaking, Always work... "shh... It's ok Sunday" But... would it..? Sunday had never doubted her Mom and Mama before, until now. She let go of her dress, and gripped the fabric of her shirt instead, with some effort her Mama picked Sunday up, and planted a light kiss on the top of her head. "Delilah honey, maybe you should go and get Sunday's special gift?" Her voice, like always was calm and composed. At the sound of the word surprise, Sunday looked up. Grip lessening on the shirt.
Her gray eyes looked over at her Mom, who nodded with a small smile, walking over giving a quick hug, running her hands through Sunday's white hair, and giving a kiss on her Mama's cheek. "Of course." Sunday watched her back leave to the still and quiet halls, as she was carried outside of the to large house.
She looked over as much as she could to Mama, "Gift?" Her voice lightly shook from the emotions, and really holding it in. This was a celebratory day after all, her nannie's had spent a lot of time on it. She didn't want to ruin it by crying. A silly action in it's self, when there was a lot to smile about. She just needed to find it again.
Constance offered a soft and kind smile, one that matched her voice perfectly. "Why of course, We got you a very big gift, after all, eight is a growing age." She said as they took a seat in the grassy lawn, under the warm sun. Sunday looked up in awe, a big gift, for her, because she was eight. Clearly this was like the whole thing when you turn eleven, and can attend wizard school. All eight year old's have to have gotten a big special amazing gif to. "Ohh!! Let me see Mama!" She said as she stood up and made an attempt to pear over her shoulder. It wasn't spoiled wretchedness, but her genuine boundless curiosity.
She was lifted off the ground, and set right back down on it. "Patience Sunday, You will get it soon." Sunday again was gripping her dress, though now it was a poor attempt to keep still, and keep her energy contained. She locked her lips, as Delilah came out carrying the cake in her left hand a blanket sandwiched firmly between her arm and torso, lit fully with eight candles, and a box under her right arm. Sunday's eyes widened, the cake she already knew would be her favorite kind, strawberry. Then the box, the box was her gift.
"Is that the gift?" Sunday asked, sitting on her knees, trying to look closer at the box, her nannies set up the blanket setting the box, and cake down. Sunday inched close to the box, hearing some kind of squeaking coming from inside. She reached out a hand to open up the box, at least touch it. But Delilah had picked up the box before she could. "Ah, ah, Candles first. Before the wax melts into your frosting." Sunday sat back, a light pout found it's way to her lips. Her mom just laughed. "Don't forget your wish." That perked her up again.
She leaned closer to the candles, counting to make sure that all eight of them where there. Otherwise the young girl fully believed that her wish wouldn't come true. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Wishing with her whole heart. 'Please, I wish for a friend, so I'm not so lonely.' She loved her nannies, but sometimes she really wanted someone her own age. To run around and play with. She opened her eyes and blew out every single candle, and with much effort, she did it in one breath.
That meant her wish just had to come true. Right?
Ideally it could have been a double wish, because she had done it so well. So the wish of her mother and father crying would have to be a ninth birthday wish. Nine had to be just as important as eight. Constance and Delilah clapped for her, but they knew better the to ask about what she’d wished for. After the ‘fit’ she threw when she was five. ‘you know if I tell you it won’t come true!’ Delilah placed the box in Sunday's lap.
It was a brown box, with a loose lid on it, holes in the side. The squeaking was louder now then it had been before. With holes in the side Sunday at first tried to peek in to look, and she was sure that she could see something purple moving. "It's moving..?" The confusion was clear in her tone, drawing her eyes away to look at her nannies. They nodded. She looked back down and used her small hands to lift the lid off the box.
"Oh my god!!" She shouted, with a gasp reaching in and pulling out what could only be described as a large purple pom-pom. Looking up at her with large beady eyes, and a squeak. It was alive, Sunday didn't know what it was, or what it really meant. She did know that this, this was the most cutest thing she had ever seen. Her eyes were wide with amazement, holding it up with it cupped in her hands, holding it at eye level. "I'm calling you Purpleberry." Ahh yes, the creative mind of an eight year old.
