Shattered But Not Lost

CHAPTER THREE: THE GIRL WHO STARTED TO DISAPPEAR

Prisca started to notice something about grief.

Grief did not stay sharp forever.

At first grief cut deeply like glass inside the chest.

Every breath hurt.

Every memory felt like an attack.

As days passed the pain of grief did not disappear.

The pain of grief changed shape.

It became quieter.

Not softer. Just quieter.

That silence was more dangerous.

Because silence does not always mean healing.

Sometimes silence means numbness learning how to survive.

Royal Hope Academy felt different now.

Not because Royal Hope Academy had changed.

Because Prisca had changed.

She still wore the uniform.

Still sat in the classroom.

Still heard the morning assembly prayers and the same teachers calling attendance.

Prisca was no longer fully inside any of it.

It was as if part of Prisca had stepped slightly outside her body and was watching life from a distance.

Diamond noticed it first.

Diamond always noticed things faster than others.

One afternoon during break time Diamond sat beside Prisca under their tree breaking the silence carefully.

Diamond said, "You don't talk anymore Prisca."

Prisca stared at the ground.

Prisca said, "I talk, Diamond."

Diamond shook her head.

Diamond said, "Not like Prisca."

Pina sat down quietly on Priscas side not interrupting.

Prisca didn't respond immediately.

Then Prisca said softly "There is nothing to say, Diamond."

Diamond frowned.

Diamond said, "That's not true Prisca."

Prisca finally looked at Diamond.

Her eyes were calm.

Too calm.

Prisca said quietly "I used to think everything had meaning, Diamond.

Now Prisca doesn't know what anything means."

That statement did not feel like a thought.

It felt older.

Heavier.

Pina lowered her gaze.

Pina said, "You're still here Prisca."

Prisca blinked slowly.

Prisca said, "Am I Pina?"

None of them answered quickly.

Because sometimes truth is too fragile to hold

The bell rang again pulling them back to class.

Prisca did not move immediately.

Prisca stayed under the tree a seconds longer watching leaves shake gently in the wind.

For a moment Prisca felt something strange.

Not sadness, Prisca.

Not pain, Prisca.

Just emptiness.

Home was no longer home in the way it used to be Prisca thought.

Her uncle Samuel tried to keep things stable.

He ensured Prisca had food, school fees and a place to sleep.

He spoke to Prisca whenever he could when Prisca barely responded.

But there are some losses that cannot be repaired with responsibility Prisca realized.

Only presence.

And even presence sometimes is not enough Prisca thought.

One evening he found Prisca sitting alone in the living room.

The light was off.

Prisca was just sitting there.

Still.

Uncle Samuel said, "You're sitting in the dark again Prisca."

Uncle Samuel switched on the light gently.

Prisca didn't react.

He sat opposite Prisca.

Uncle Samuel said, "I'm not asking you to forget, Prisca.

You cannot stay inside this place forever Prisca."

Prisca finally spoke.

Priscas voice was quiet.

Prisca said, "This place is not the problem Uncle Samuel."

Prisca continued.

Prisca said, "I am, Uncle Samuel."

That answer stayed in the room longer than any sound.

Uncle Samuel leaned back slightly unsure how to respond.

Because sometimes pain does not need correction Prisca thought.

It needs understanding Prisca thought.

But understanding does not always fix anything Prisca thought.

It was around this time that Diamond started pulling Prisca into her own world Prisca realized.

Diamond did not handle sadness well Prisca thought.

Diamond escaped it.

Diamond talked more.

Laughed louder.

Stayed outside longer.

Refused silence whenever Diamond could avoid it.

One afternoon after school Diamond grabbed Priscas hand.

Diamond said, "Come with me Prisca."

Prisca hesitated.

Prisca said, "Where, Diamond?"

Diamond said, " come, Prisca."

Pina looked uncertain.

Pina said, "Is that an idea, Diamond?"

Diamond rolled her eyes.

Diamond said, "Prisca needs to breathe outside this sadness."

Prisca didn't resist.

Not because Prisca agreed.

Because Prisca didn't feel strong enough to argue anymore.

They walked through parts of the city Prisca rarely paid attention to before.

Busy streets.

Small shops.

People shouting prices.

Music playing from speakers.

Life moving fast.

Too fast.

Diamond seemed comfortable in it.

Pina stayed close but quiet.

Prisca walked behind them slightly observing everything like Prisca was seeing a version of reality.

At some point Diamond stopped near an area and laughed at something someone said.

Prisca didn't hear the joke.

Prisca just watched people moving.

Laughing.

Arguing.

Living.

Something inside Prisca tightened.

Because life outside Priscas pain was still functioning normally.

That made Prisca feel left behind.

That night Prisca returned home later than usual.

Uncle Samuel was waiting.

Uncle Samuel said, "You're late Prisca."

Prisca didn't answer immediately.

Then Prisca said, "I was outside Uncle Samuel."

Uncle Samuel studied Prisca carefully.

Uncle Samuel said, "With Diamond?"

Prisca nodded slightly.

Uncle Samuel sighed.

Uncle Samuel said, "I don't mind you having friends, Prisca.

Be careful of where they lead you Prisca."

Prisca didn't respond.

Prisca heard Uncle Samuel.

When Prisca didn't look like Prisca was listening.

Weeks passed again.

Priscas emotional distance increased.

Prisca still attended school.

Still sat in class.

Still wrote notes.

Something about Prisca was slowly fading inward.

Not disappearing completely.

Just becoming harder to reach.

Diamond noticed Prisca had stopped smiling.

Pina noticed Prisca had stopped reacting to things.

Uncle Samuel noticed Prisca was becoming quieter in ways that felt unnatural.

No one knew how to pull Prisca back properly.

Because grief when it settles deeply does not respond easily to comfort Prisca thought.

One evening Prisca stood in front of the mirror in her room.

Prisca looked at herself for a time.

Not admiring.

Not criticizing.

Just observing.

Priscas face looked the same.

Prisca didn't feel like the same person inside it.

Prisca whispered, "Who are you now Prisca?"

No answer came.

Not from the mirror.

Not from the room.

Not from the memory of her parents.

Only silence.

For the first time Prisca didn't cry.

That realization frightened Prisca more than tears ever had.

Prisca turned off the light. Lay on her bed.

The ceiling, above Prisca was familiar.

Priscas thoughts were not.

Deep inside something small shifted.

Not fully breaking.

Not fully healing.

Changing direction.

Quietly.

Without permission.

Without warning Prisca thought.