Chapter 8
605 Words
The First Silence
At first, Ama told herself it was nothing.
People get busy.
Life changes.
Things don’t always stay the same.
She repeated those thoughts like a quiet prayer each time her phone remained silent longer than it used to.
The first missed call didn’t hurt.
It only surprised her.
Daniel had always called.
Even on his busiest days, he had always found a moment.
So when her phone stayed quiet that night, Ama simply smiled to herself and said, “He must be tired.”
She slept early.
The second night, she stayed up a little longer.
Just in case.
Her eyes kept drifting to her phone, waiting for the screen to light up with his name.
It didn’t.
By the third night, waiting had become something else.
Not hope.
Expectation.
Ama sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers lightly wrapped around her phone. The room was dim, the only light coming from a small lamp beside her mother, who slept restlessly under a thin cloth.
Outside, the night moved on as usual.
But inside Ama’s chest, something had slowed.
She finally pressed his name and called.
The ringing echoed louder than it should have.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then the call ended.
Ama stared at the screen.
A small frown formed between her brows.
“He’s probably in class,” she whispered to herself.
She tried again.
This time, the call went unanswered completely.
No explanation.
No message.
Just silence.
Ama placed the phone down slowly.
Something about that silence felt different.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
But heavy.
Like something settling quietly where something else used to be.
The next evening, her phone finally rang.
Ama picked it up almost immediately.
“Daniel?”
“Hey,” his voice came through, slightly distracted.
Relief washed over her.
“You didn’t call yesterday,” she said softly.
“Yeah… I’ve been busy.”
The words were simple.
But the tone wasn’t.
Busy.
It sounded like distance.
“How are your classes?” she asked, trying to hold onto the conversation.
“They’re fine.”
“And your roommates?”
“They’re okay.”
Ama paused.
The answers felt short.
Closed.
Unlike the Daniel she knew.
“Are you eating well?” she tried again, forcing lightness into her voice.
“I’m fine, Ama.”
This time, there was a slight edge in his tone.
Not anger.
But impatience.
Ama felt it immediately.
Her grip on the phone tightened slightly.
“I was just asking.”
“I know,” he replied quickly. “I just… have a lot going on right now.”
Silence followed.
But this silence was different.
It didn’t feel comfortable.
It felt like something that didn’t know where to stand.
“Okay,” Ama said finally.
“I’ll call you later,” Daniel added.
“Alright.”
The call ended.
Ama lowered the phone slowly.
The room suddenly felt quieter than before.
Not because there was no sound…
but because something familiar was missing.
She leaned back against the wall, her eyes fixed on nothing.
For the first time, a thought crossed her mind—clearer than before.
Something is changing.
She didn’t want to believe it.
Didn’t want to give that thought a place in her heart.
But it stayed anyway.
That night, Ama didn’t wait for his call.
She placed her phone beside her and lay down.
Her eyes remained open long after the light was turned off.
Because sometimes…
The first sign of losing someone
is not distance.
It’s silence.
And silence, Ama was beginning to understand…
can say things words are afraid to.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD