I sat cross-legged on the faded rug, watching Sia, my beloved cockatoo, preen her soft white feathers in the morning light. The world seemed gentle and quiet, punctuated only by her cheerful whistles. The gentle cooing sounds she made always filled the room with warmth, as if she herself was a small, fluttering sun.

I reached out to touch Sia's head, but she only chirped once, quietly, and then nestled into her perch. Something in her eyes seemed weary, her usual spark dimmed. The silence that followed felt heavy, unnatural, as if the entire house was holding its breath.

I found Sia still, unmoving, beneath her favorite perch. My hands trembled as I gathered her into a soft towel, tears blurring the world. The rain outside seemed to echo my sorrow, each drop a gentle eulogy for my lost companion.

Sia[/@ch_2] are scattered on the table, each one capturing her in a joyful moment.] I remembered the mornings she would sing to wake me, the playful nips at my fingers, the way she danced when music played. Each memory was bittersweet, a reminder of what I had lost but also of the joy she brought into my life. "You were my little sunbeam, Sia. Thank you for every song," I whispered to the empty room.

I knelt beside the grave, hands muddy, heart aching. A single white feather rested atop the stone, swaying gently in the evening breeze. "Fly free, Sia. I hope you're singing somewhere bright," I murmured through my tears, wishing her spirit peace.

Though the ache lingered, I began to find comfort in the silence, imagining Sia soaring beyond the clouds. Her memory fluttered through my dreams, soft and bright as her feathers. In the hush of night, I knew she would always be with me, her song threaded into the fabric of my heart.