But Kaël, he remembers very well. He remembers where he comes from. Of everything he has been through. Sleepless nights. Humiliations. Sacrifices.
What others have forgotten, is everything he has paid to get here.
Today, even his mother ends her calls with a little nervous laugh: "Do you have something for your mom?"
And every time, Kaël wonders: Do we still love me when I give nothing?
He has become the pillar. The spare tire. The easy answer to others' problems.
But him, who asks him how he sleeps? Who asks him if he is doing well? No one.
He is no longer a man. He has become a bank.
Chapter 2 – Liora: It’s never for me.
Geznah.S |TheSilenceReader
"Hi, how are you?"
She reads the message, her eyes fixed, her heart already closed.
She knows what is happening.
And here it is:
"I have a little problem, could you help me?"
Liora is far away. Far from everything. Far from her home.
Far from the arms that carried her. Far from familiar gazes. She distanced herself to build a life, not to become a distributor of solutions.
When she left, she had dreams. She believed that by working hard, she would be a pride. She would make things easier for those she loves.
But what she has become, is a tool , A means. Not a person.
Not a girl.
Not a sister.
Just… there when it needs to be sent.
Geznah.S |The Silence Reader She always responds. Not because she can.
But because she cannot ignore. She doesn't want anyone to suffer. Even if she suffers in silence.
The messages always come with the same phrases: "Did you forget your family?"
"You're doing well over there, aren't you."
"You act like you have nothing left."
But no one knows that she cries alone, that she eats little, that she sleeps poorly, and that she works more than she lives.
One day, it happened.
It was the last straw. He didn't even open it. Because he knew what would follow. He looked at his screen. He felt a lump in his throat. And he wondered: "Am I still a brother? A son? A friend? Or just... a walking bank?" He wanted to write: "I also have struggles, you know. I also have sleepless nights, mornings without courage, days when I tell myself that all this, makes no sense."
But he didn't do it.
Because he knew that this message... no one would read it to the end.
Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
Kaël, on the other hand, didn't know what to say when he received a message. Because it was always the same. A little "Hi, how are you?", then... long sentences, disguised requests, emergencies that fell like tiles.
He had thought it was him who was exaggerating. But over time, he understood: It wasn't love. It was waiting.
He wanted to talk about his projects, his fatigue, his loneliness. But there was never room for that. He listened to others. He carried their pain. But when it was his turn,
no one was available.
So he fell silent.
He started to ignore.
Not out of vengeance. Not out of hate. But because silence was becoming a protection.
And like Liora, he was misjudged. "You act rich."
"You forget where you come from."
"You no longer respond. You change."
No one understood that this silence was a cry. A cry of fatigue. A cry too many.
He put his phone on silent mode. Not because he no longer loved his own, but because he could no longer exist otherwise.
He just wanted a voice to tell him:
"Kaël, are you okay? I'm just calling to talk to you, nothing else." But that voice, he never heard again.
And that’s when he said to himself:
"It's not that I've become cold. It's just that I've frozen under the demands, without ever receiving warmth that came from the heart."
Chapter 4 – Liora: The Misunderstood Silence
Geznah.S |TheSilenceReader
At first, she replied to all messages.
Even to the "Hello" sent at strange hours. She told herself: "Maybe someone needs to talk, just that." But no. Always the same sequence.
Paragraphs. Endless texts. Accounts of problems, debts, sudden disasters. She read them all. She believed in them. She tried to understand. Until the day she realized… that each message was a command, not a confession.
The tone was rising, the insistence was settling in. Calls were coming in. Several a day. "It's urgent, Liora, please respond."
But the urgency, now, she felt it within her. The one of no longer existing except as a bank card.
She also had sleepless nights. Delays in rent. Pains she kept to herself. But no one asked: "You, Liora, are you really okay?" No. Because Liora was the pillar. The strong one. The warrior.
And one day, she stopped responding. Not out of pride. Not out of selfishness. But out of exhaustion.
Chapter 5: Liora – Mom, I hurt too.
Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
It was 9:37 PM. A message appeared on her screen. "Hello, my daughter."
Liora sighed. She already knew the rest. She loved her mother deeply. But this "hello" was no longer sweet. It had become a signal. The beginning of a request.
She opened the message with a slowness mixed with apprehension. The following lines scrolled by: bills to pay, emergencies, phrases like "I don't know what to do anymore", "you are our only solution", "we are counting on you."
Liora did not respond right away. She looked at her ceiling. Her eyes filled with tears. "Mom, I hurt too." But that message, she never wrote.
She would have liked to say that her nights were short, that her back hurt from getting up early and carrying everything, all by herself. She would have liked to say that she was fighting, not to shine, but to survive. That she was afraid of the future, that she felt alone even when surrounded. That she needed a sincere "hello", without pressure, without weight, just a hand extended, even at a distance. Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
But instead, she replied: "How much do you need?"
Her fingers trembled. She hated this version of herself: the automatic version, the one that never says no, even when she can't take it anymore.
Liora sometimes thought she would have liked to confide. To say that she cried in the shower so as not to alert her roommates. That she ate little, not because she wanted to stay slim, but because she had to choose between the fridge and the transfers.
But she never complained. Because if she cried, who would dry the tears of others?
In the silence of her room, she looked at the sent message. There was no trace of her own pain. Only a response. A habit.
And while the world slept, she cried... in silence. As usual. Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
"They are not asking for a little help, a boost. No. These are amounts that shedoesn't even have. And if they knew what was left for her after rent, after bills, after the groceries? They do not ask for less. They ask for more than she can, because they have forgotten that she is human too."
Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
Liora understood then: as long as I give, I am worth something. The day I say "no", I become bad, selfish, forgotten.
She looks at her screen that keeps vibrating. She lowers the brightness. And she thinks:
"Am I going to have to apologize for being tired?"
She feels trapped. A prisoner of an image that is expected of her. A strong, available image, generous. But inside, she feels empty.
She thinks back to that day, a few weeks ago. She had nothing left. Really nothing. Not even enough for herself. And yet, she had sent what she could. A gesture, an effort of more. And the response she received was dry, brutal: "Is that all?"
These two words had pierced her.
She would have liked to respond, to explain. But what’s the point? She knew it: people do not listen to what you feel. They only hear what you give. And if you do not give, you are bad.
So she had remained silent.
Geznah.S |The Silence Reader
And since that day, with every call, with every message, Liora hears those two words echo, even when they are not said.
"Is that all?".
No. It’s not all. But it’s all I have.
She gets up slowly, as if each movement weighed. She approaches the mirror, looks at her reflection. Her face is marked, not with wrinkles, no but with invisible fatigue. The fatigue of having to always be available. Always being strong. Always being "the good one."
She murmurs to her reflection, like a discreet prayer: "And me, who asks if I have eaten? Who calls me when I am tired? Does anyone think of me... when I am no longer of any use?"
He put his phone on airplane mode. Not for an hour. Not for a day. But to save himself. save. Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
Because if he didn't do it, he knew he would really disappear, drowned under the weight of all the expectations, half -kept promises, accusatory looks when he could no longer give anymore.
He had not stopped loving his family. Nor his loved ones. But he had forgotten himself. And that day, on that cold bench, he decided that his heart also deserved rest.
Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
Chapter 9: Liora – What if I disappeared?
Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
There are silences that speak louder than screams.
Liora had always told herself that one day, she would just... disappear. Not in drama. Not in anger. But in silence. Without noise. Without explanation.
She had sometimes dreamed of it. Taking a ticket, going far away, changing her name. Cutting off connections. Forgetting messages. Calls. Requests. Obligations.
Just existing for herself. Sleeping without anxiety. Eating without guilt. Breathing without having to justify herself. justify. Geznah.S | The Silence Reader
But every time she thought of fleeing, an inner voice reminded her of her daughter. Her responsibility.
And then... this fear. This guilt of daring to think of herself.
"What if I disappeared?" she thought, eyes open in the dark, after one call too many, after yet another message asking for even more than she had already given.
But deep down, what she really wanted... was for someone to notice she was there. For someone to see everything she carried, without ever saying it. Not to be applauded.
Just for someone to tell her once: "Liora, you have the right to exist for yourself."
She didn't want to give everything up.
Never again without me. Never again until exhaustion. For a heart too emptied no longer beats. And he wanted to live. For himself, this time.
Geznah.S | The Silence Reader