August–September 2024
At first, he thought it was just a bad week.
Law school did that to her—piled her high with deadlines and readings until she barely had time to breathe, much less reply to every message.
Miggy was used to it by now.
He'd learned to read between the silences.
But this one felt different.
Longer.
Colder.
Heavier.
Her last message had been a curt:
"Okay. I'll try to rest. Night."
That was on a Monday.
By Friday, she hadn't read any of his texts.
Hadn't even opened them.
He called once. Twice.
No answer.
By the weekend, panic had lodged itself in his chest like a splinter.
He messaged one of her blockmates.
"Hey, has Yna been in class?"
The reply came after an hour.
"I thought she was with you? She's been gone for days."
And just like that, Miggy stopped sleeping.
He tried everything.
Called her dorm's caretaker—no answer.
Drove to Manila one weekend on impulse, only to find her room locked, dark, untouched.
Her favorite mug is still by the window.
Her scarf is gone.
It chilled him.
He messaged her again.
"I'm not mad. Just let me know you're safe."
"I'll come get you if you want. Anywhere."
"You don't have to talk. Just exist. Please."
Nothing.
He'd never felt so helpless.
Not even during the rough years—when her trauma pulled her into silence, when she disappeared emotionally but was still physically there.
This time she was nowhere.
And yet, Miggy stayed.
He kept sending voice notes.
Small things.
Updates about his work.
A dog he saw on the street that looked like the one they used to feed after class.
A new dance routine he saw that reminded him of their high school performances.
Sometimes he cried after recording them.
Sometimes he didn't even press send.
He just needed to feel like he was still talking to her.
Every day he walked the fine line between understanding and heartbreak.
Because he knew her.
He knew what silence meant for her.
It wasn't indifference.
It was survival.
But knowing didn't make it hurt less.
Some nights he would drive to nowhere, just to escape the walls of his room.
He'd replay their first dance in his head.
The summer she told him about her pain.
The nights she'd cry and he'd just hold her without asking for reasons.
He missed her.
The whole of her.
Not just the bright, sharp girl who teased him into laughing—
But the wounded one.
The one who didn't believe she was worth staying for.
He remembered once telling her:
"Even if you fall apart a hundred times, I'll still choose to stay. Just let me find you in the dark."
Now, he wondered if she'd let him.
A full month passed.
Then one day, his phone lit up.
Unknown Number
Hey. It's me.
His heart stopped.
Then:
Can we talk?
YOU ARE READING
Where the Silence Grows
FanfictionTo the girl who stayed silent for too long. To the child who was never asked how she felt. To the woman who chose to live. This is your story. And you are not alone anymore.
