I used to think silence was just… nothing. A blank space. But the more I grew aware of it, the more I realized — silence had weight.
And lately, mine had started to feel heavier than ever.
A week passed since those first moments with Kaiya.
We had started sitting together more often — in the art room, under the banyan tree, even during the boring assemblies. She brought this strange kind of calm with her. Not the kind that fixed everything, but the kind that made everything a little easier to carry.
Yet, the more I started feeling alive around her, the more I noticed a war quietly building inside me.
Because for every step I took forward with her, the world around me seemed desperate to pull me back.
It started with the school rankings.
They were pinned on the notice board for all to see — bright red ink circling names that mattered. Mine wasn't on it. Not even near it.
I stood there staring, not surprised, just… disappointed in myself.
Behind me, I heard the usual laughter.
"Kai's still breathing? Thought he'd have disappeared from shame by now."
I turned. It was Naren and his pack of geniuses. They wore pride like armor. I wore invisibility like skin.
I clenched my fists but said nothing.
Kaiya saw me from across the hall. She didn't say a word, but her eyes locked with mine — and in them, I saw something stronger than words.
"You're more than a number."
She didn't need to say it. I felt it.
That night, I didn't eat dinner.
Not because I was sulking, but because the silence between me and my parents had grown so thick, I didn't know how to cut through it anymore. I walked past my dad. He didn't even look up from the news. Mom was asleep on the couch, as usual.
I locked myself in my room and stared at the drawing I'd made — the one of the boy reaching for the light from beneath the water.
He looked stronger now. More determined.
But I didn't feel like him tonight.
The next day, I told Kaiya.
Not everything. Just enough.
She listened without interrupting. Then she stood up, took her bag, and told me to follow her. No questions.
We ended up at the city library.
The place was quiet, old, and beautiful in its own way — kind of like Kaiya.
She led me to a dusty section filled with self-help books, psychology journals, old biographies.
"I come here when the world gets loud," she whispered. "Or when I start feeling small."
I looked around. The silence here felt different. It didn't crush me — it cleared me.
We spent hours flipping through pages. She pulled out a book called Unseen Doesn't Mean Unworthy. I laughed. She made me borrow it.
And that evening, on the bus ride home, I felt the weight lift a little.
That night, I studied — for real.
Not because I was scared of failing again.
But because I wanted to try.
I didn't want to be the kid who only drew his dreams.I wanted to chase them.
End of Chapter 3