A Song in the Silence

Liora sat in her usual seat by the window, staring outside as the morning sunlight filtered through the glass. The world outside looked normal—students chatting in the courtyard, the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze—but inside her mind, the echoes of last night’s nightmare still lingered.

Mina plopped into the seat beside her, immediately invading Liora’s space with her boundless energy. “So,” she said, resting her chin in her hands. “Are you going to tell me what’s up, or do I have to guess?”

Liora hesitated. She wasn’t sure how to explain the dream, the voices, the eerie feeling of something following her even after she woke up. Would Mina even believe her?

“It’s nothing,” she finally muttered, fiddling with the hem of her blazer.

Mina pouted. “Liora, you’re a terrible liar.” She poked Liora’s arm. “Come on, you were totally spacing out. Something’s bothering you.”

Liora sighed, knowing Mina wouldn’t drop it. She glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before lowering her voice. “I had a nightmare.”

Mina’s expression softened. “Was it bad?”

Liora nodded. “It felt... real. Like I was trapped in it. I couldn’t run, and when I tried to speak—” She swallowed. “I had no voice.”

Mina frowned. “That’s creepy.”

Liora let out a small, bitter laugh. “Yeah.”

Mina tapped a finger against her lips, thinking. “You know, there’s this belief that dreams can mean something. Like, your subconscious is trying to tell you something important.”

Liora raised an eyebrow. “And what do you think mine is saying?”

Mina grinned. “That you need to start talking more instead of bottling everything up.”

Liora rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at her lips. Only Mina could take something unsettling and turn it into a teasing moment.

“Or,” Mina continued dramatically, “maybe you’re secretly cursed, and the shadows are trying to steal your voice forever.” She wiggled her fingers in front of Liora’s face like she was casting a spell.

Liora swatted her hand away, but a chuckle slipped out. “You watch too many horror movies.”

Mina gasped. “Excuse me! Horror movies are art—”

Their conversation was cut off as the teacher entered the classroom, signaling the start of the lesson. Mina shot Liora a final look, mouthing, We’re not done talking about this.

Liora shook her head, but as she turned her attention to the front of the class, a strange feeling curled in her chest.

She had told Mina about the nightmare.

But she hadn’t told her the strangest part.

That the voice in the dream—the one that had been singing—

Had sounded just like hers.

____

The school day dragged on, but Liora couldn’t shake the lingering weight of her nightmare. No matter how many times she told herself it was just a dream, something about it clung to her—like a melody she couldn’t quite remember, but somehow knew had always been there.

By the time lunch rolled around, she barely touched her food. Mina, of course, noticed immediately.

“Okay, this is serious.” Mina leaned forward, propping her elbows on the cafeteria table. “You never eat much, but today you’re barely pretending to care. Spill.”

Liora poked at her rice with her chopsticks, debating whether to brush it off again. But something in Mina’s expression—genuine concern, curiosity, the way she always seemed to see her when no one else did—made her exhale in defeat.

“It’s not just the dream,” Liora admitted quietly. “It’s… the song.”

Mina tilted her head. “The song?”

Liora nodded. “In the nightmare, I heard it. Soft, almost like a lullaby. It was familiar, but I don’t know from where.” She hesitated before adding, “And the voice singing it… sounded like me.”

Mina blinked. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her lips. “Okay, that’s actually really cool. Creepy, but cool.”

Liora gave her a flat look. “Not helping.”

“No, no, I am helping.” Mina tapped a finger against the table. “Think about it. What if your subconscious is trying to remind you of something? Maybe it’s a song from your childhood or—” She gasped dramatically. “What if you were a famous singer in your past life?”

Liora sighed. “I’m serious, Mina.”

“So am I.” Mina’s teasing softened into something thoughtful. “Maybe there’s a reason you can’t remember it. You should try singing it out loud. Maybe it’ll come back.”

Liora stiffened. “I don’t sing.”

Mina groaned. “You say that, but I know you can.”

“No, I—”

Mina’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Liora,” she said in a sing-song voice, “if you don’t sing, I will start belting out love songs in the middle of the cafeteria. Loudly.”

Liora’s face burned. “You wouldn’t.”

Mina took a deep breath. “BABY, BABY, BABY, OHHHH—”

“Okay! Stop!” Liora hissed, slapping a hand over Mina’s mouth, but she was already giggling against her palm.

“Seriously, though,” Mina said once Liora let go, “at least try to hum the melody later. If it’s stuck in your head, maybe it’s important.”

Liora exhaled slowly. “Fine.”

Mina beamed. “That’s my girl.”

Despite everything, Liora smiled.

But later that night, when she sat on her bed and tried to hum the song from her dream—

No sound came out.

She clutched her throat, panic flashing through her. Her lips moved, but there was nothing. No voice. No hum.

Just silence.

And from the corner of her room, where the shadows stretched just a little too far—