WHEN SILENCE STARTS TALKING
1069 Words
CHAPTER 3
Three weeks passed quickly.
Lectures became routine, faces familiar, and the campus less intimidating.
Just as I settled into Neonvale’s rhythm, matriculation arrived.
I was adjusting my stiletto heels when Teller passed through the corridor, looking far more awake than I felt.
“What’s up,” he said easily. “Happy matriculation day.”
He smiled slightly. “Hope you’re getting prepared. Looks like you’re in the spirit. Good luck today.”
“Thank you,” I replied, managing a small smile.
He hesitated, just enough to change the air between us.
“And about what we talked about last night,” he said, his tone calm, unreadable, “I want to know your answer.”
Being asked out the night before matriculation still felt strange; bad timing, or maybe deliberate.
It hadn’t left my thoughts.
“I’m not sure yet,” I said honestly.
Teller studied me for a moment, then nodded, as though he had expected that.
“Fair,” he said. “Today’s already a lot. We’ll talk later.”
He moved on down the corridor, leaving behind a silence that felt louder than the morning noise.
I left for the matriculation ceremony.
It felt like the day everything else began asking something of me too much: decisions, clarity, and courage.
And I wasn’t sure yet which one I was ready to give.
***
I didn’t even make it to the end of matriculation.
Between the speeches and applause, my body gave up.
I made it home, dropped my bag, and crawled into bed.
Dave wasn’t home.
I didn’t care.
Pain came in waves. I shivered, drifting in and out.
Then I heard a knock.
“Hello?” a voice called.
No answer.
Another knock. Closer this time.
“Is anyone there?”
I tried to speak. Only a faint sound came out.
The door creaked open slightly.
“Petra?”
Tellar’s voice.
He stepped in and stopped short.
“Petra? Are you okay?”
I tried to sit up.
I couldn’t. He touched my arm, then pulled back.
“You’re burning up,” he said, steady despite the fear in his eyes.
He helped me sit, covered me, and spoke softly, anchoring me.
“I’ll be back.
Don’t sleep.”
He came back with water and medicine. He waited until I swallowed.
The door opened.
“Petra?”
Dave froze. Panic followed.
“She has a high fever,” Tellar said calmly.
Dave thanked him. Tellar nodded.
Then sleep took me.
Tellar just nodded. “She’ll be fine. Let her rest.”
That was the last thing I remember before sleep pulled me under.
***
When I woke up, the room was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Dave?” I called.
No answer.
I got out of bed, panic creeping in. I checked everywhere.
The kitchen, corridor compound.
“Where’s my brother?” I asked anyone who would listen.
No one had seen him.
The only name that made sense to me was Tellar.
He had been the last person with Dave. I needed answers.
I found Tellar’s house four buildings away from mine.
It was quieter, more private. When I asked around, someone pointed me toward a self-contained block and mentioned his name casually.
The door was open.
I froze.
Dave was there in Tellar’s kitchen, sleeves rolled up, laughing. Tellar stood beside him, calmly stirring the stove.
I stared.
“Petra,” Dave said. “You’re up already?”
“I was looking for you.”
“You shouldn’t be up yet,” Tellar said.
“I’m fine.”
“Come eat,” Dave said. “He made food for you.”
That shocked me. I hesitated, then sat.
Dave didn’t notice,
He was unusually happy.
We ate.
They talked easily.
Tellar asked simple questions. I answered without thinking.
Then I asked, “Do you smoke?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
I blinked. “Wow. Why?”
They both looked at me.
“I saw you last night with a few guys smoking, and I thought people who smoke are… bad people,” I said quietly, embarrassed the moment the words left my mouth.
Tellar didn’t laugh. He didn’t correct me either.
“Not always,” he said calmly.
“Dave finished first. “I’ll take these,” he said, carrying the plates into the kitchen.
The room shifted.
Tellar looked at me.
“Petra, I like you. I meant what I asked last night.”
My heart raced.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.”
Panic rose.
“No. Relationships lead to intimacy, and I’m scared. My family is strict. I don’t want trouble, my dad, my brother, people watching.”
Dave’s plates clattered in the kitchen.
Tellar didn’t argue.
“Okay,” he said.
I nodded, unsure which was heavier—relief or fear. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was honest.
I stood up quietly to leave with my brother.
Tellar insisted on escorting us halfway
***
We argued on the way home.
“You don’t even know him,” I said. “Why would you go to his house?”
“I was bored,” Dave replied.
“That’s not the point.
You don’t follow strangers.”
“He helped you when you were sick,” Dave said. “Why shouldn’t I trust him?”
I went quiet.
Inside, I picked up a book as voices drifted through the open window. Girls.
Speaking in a language they thought I didn’t understand.
“She’s already going to a boy’s house.”
“Tellar, of all people.”
“That rugged one
“The one people are even scared of, is he not too big for her?”
My hands tightened around the book.
So this was what they were saying.
I didn’t react or step outside. I kept reading until the words blurred.
From then on, I ignored the rumours and focused on my routine.
I chose distance, not out of fear of Tellar, but to protect my peace.
Nelson became a familiar presence in the compound, a third-year engineering student, always playing football or joking with my brother.
It was odd how much time he spent with Dave, but it didn’t feel dangerous.
Just noticeable.
“He’s nice,” I said once.
Dave nodded.
Still, I felt the distance growing between Tellar and me, and between truth and what people chose to believe.
- Writer
