SHADOWS AND LIGHT
861 Words
CHAPTER THREE
The following week at school felt strangely different for Lia. Ever since Daniel’s quiet words, she found herself more aware of everything around her — the way her friends laughed too loudly, the way teachers rushed through lessons, the way she pretended to be fine even when her heart was heavy.
Her friends — Sarah, Amina, and Ruth — noticed her silence. At lunch, Amina leaned across the table with a mischievous grin.
“Lia, you’ve been zoning out a lot lately. What’s going on? Don’t tell me you’re secretly in love.”
The table erupted in laughter. Ruth clapped her hands dramatically. “Ah! Maybe she finally has a crush she’s hiding from us.”
Lia forced a smile, shaking her head. “Not everything is about love, you know.”
Sarah smirked, tapping her chin. “Hmm, then maybe you’re keeping secrets. Come on, we’re your friends. Spill it!”
Their voices felt playful, but inside, Lia’s chest tightened. If only they knew she wasn’t hiding a crush, but an old wound that still hurt. She laughed softly, brushing it off. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
The girls didn’t push further, but Lia could feel their curiosity lingering. Sometimes, she wondered if it was her fault that no one understood her — because she never gave them the chance to see the real her.
Later that day in Literature class, the teacher stood in front of the blackboard with a serious expression.
“You’ll all be working in groups for your next assignment,” he announced. “Each group will prepare a short dramatic presentation based on one of the poems in your textbook.”
The class groaned loudly, but Lia felt her usual quiet interest spark. She liked Literature, not because she loved performing, but because the words in poems often reflected her own hidden feelings.
As names were called out, Lia froze when she heard hers. “Group three: Sarah, Daniel, Musa… and Lia.”
Sarah squealed in excitement. “This is going to be fun!” she whispered.
Daniel, seated quietly at the back, didn’t react much. He simply adjusted his notebook. Lia’s stomach fluttered nervously. Working closely with him meant more moments where she might be seen — and that both scared and comforted her.
After class, the group gathered at the corner of the classroom. Sarah immediately took charge, flipping through the textbook. “We should do ‘The Road Not Taken.’ It’s popular, and everyone knows it.”
Musa agreed quickly, but Daniel remained silent, glancing at Lia as if waiting for her opinion. Surprised, Lia cleared her throat. “I… think that’s a good choice. It has meaning too.”
Daniel gave the slightest nod, as though acknowledging her words mattered. Lia felt a strange warmth spread in her chest.
Sarah rattled on about costumes and props until Musa excused himself to get a notebook. For the first time, Lia and Daniel were left alone.
“You’re not much of a talker with your friends,” Daniel said softly, not looking directly at her.
Lia tilted her head, raising a brow. “And you? You hardly talk to anyone at all.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe we’re not so different, then.”
The simplicity of his words struck her. No judgment. No assumptions. Just quiet understanding. She wanted to ask more — about his life, his thoughts, why he always seemed so guarded. But Musa returned, and the moment slipped away.
That evening, at home, Lia stood beside her mother in the warm, busy kitchen. The smell of onions and frying oil filled the air. Her siblings’ laughter echoed from the living room.
“Hand me the tomatoes, Lia,” her mother said, smiling warmly.
As Lia obeyed, her mother studied her face. “You’ve been thoughtful lately, my dear. Is something bothering you?”
For a moment, Lia’s throat tightened. She wanted to say everything — about her fears, about her hidden sadness, about Daniel. But the words didn’t come. She forced a small smile. “I’m fine, Mama.”
Her mother reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t always have to be fine, you know. Remember that.”
The gentle words pierced her heart. She wanted so badly to let go, to cry into her mother’s arms like she used to as a child. But instead, she just nodded. “I know.”
Later, in her room, Lia opened her diary. The blank page stared back at her, waiting. Slowly, she began to write:
“Sometimes I feel like I’m living two lives — one everyone sees, and one I keep hidden. I wonder if I’ll ever have the courage to show the real me. Daniel notices things others don’t. But can I trust him? Or will he disappear like everyone else?”
Her hand trembled as she closed the diary, sliding it under her pillow. She lay back, staring at the ceiling.
For the first time, she wasn’t just afraid of being invisible. She was afraid of being seen.
- Writer
