The silence set in like a big, heavy blanket of snow. It enveloped the small dark room in its clutches, making every other thing stand out and look sinister. It hung over our heads and pricked our hearts, covered us a foot deep in itself. Neither of us tried to break it. I stared into my father’s eyes and he just stared back.

I knew that I should say yes, that i should promise. But as I gazed into his deep, agitated eyes, I knew I could only tell them the truth. And the truth was that I couldn’t promise. We held our stares for two minutes continuously. My father tried to read the answer in my eyes and face, but my blank expression told him nothing. I could see his body go tense and the worry lines reappearing on his forehead.

He finally broke the stare. “Why Melga?” he whispered, his hands trembling.

I grasped his hands with mine. “I understand that you want to protect me, I really do. But I don’t understand what from. I don’t know what comes in your nightmares to terrify you, and unless you tell me I will never know well enough not to go up there. And it calls to me, dad. The sun, the sand, the fresh air, the sky and the pricking plants. They all call to me. And I love you, and I want to listen to you, but its getting harder to ignore their call. And the events in this world get too hectic, it is like an escape from life, a break to go up there.”

He sighed heavily. I couldn’t read his mind, but I could see that he was disappointed in me. “I get it. It tastes like freedom, and you want to taste it again. But I cannot allow you to go up there again. Even if you don’t promise to me. From today, you are forbidden to visit the surface unless I tell you that you can.”

“But-” I started to protest.

“You will obey, Melga. Just one simple rule,” my father shot me a strict look, and then strode out of the room.

I sat there on the bed, sweating and my jaw hanging open. I just couldn’t believe the unfairness of the situation. There was one place where I could get peace, where I could be myself and escape from the complications of my world. And I was no longer allowed to go there. The injustice was that nobody was even telling me why. My father had been so secretive and mysterious lately, and I yearned to find out what had instilled such a great loathing for humans in him.

Another thing that felt unfair that they didn’t trust me. They didn’t trust me to keep my self out of trouble, or to keep myself safe. Both Phimine and dad still treated me like a five year old. At 15, I felt that I was old enough to manage myself. And I would be an adult in five years, but I was already quite mature. May I point out that I was already dealing with two dwarf boys who loved me?

But why? The question popped in my head again. Why had it happened in my school and to me. Nothing like it had ever been recorded in history, no rumours about high school romances. I was just another dwarf girl in the crowd, but what had led to already being desired. It creeped me out, it grossed me out, and most of all it perplexed me. I decided to stop thinking about it.

Limia entered with a cup of soup for me, steam emanating from the top. It smelled fantastic, and I took it from her and started sipping right away. The thick, boiling liquid scalded my tongue and I gasped for air as Limia gazed at me. I would have expected her to smile, but she was just gawking at me with a strange look in her eyes. I thought I saw some pity. And then some guilt. She had heard my conversation with my dad.

“This is delicious,” I told her after I took another sip.

“Thank you,” she didn’t look up at me.

“What do you know?” I heard my tone turn accusatory, even though I didn’t want it to. I sounded rude, and I bit my tongue.

“About what?” she still refused to meet my eyes.

I sighed. “You know about what.”

She swept her eyes over the room, looking for anything to focus on other than me. Finally her black eyes landed on mine. “I know what happened all those years ago.”

“Tell me,” I sounded like a child asking for a bedtime story.

“Sorry, Melga. But I am in no position to tell the story. It is your father’s story, a secret that only he may choose to reveal. I cannot betray his trust,” she said. My shoulders slumped, defeated.

We sat in silence as I sipped my soup, then she took my cup and started leaving. “Get some sleep.”

I nodded at her, and after the door closed I let my thoughts wander.

---

A pillow came flying at my face. “You lucky moron!”

I threw the pillow back at Phimine. “I didn’t ask for it!”

Phimine was ready to go to school, dressed in the uniform and holding her backpack while I lounged in my blanket. I still had a fever, though not as high had before. My father had strictly ordered my not to leave the house, and only leave the room to go to the bathroom before leaving early in the morning for work. Limia was cooking breakfast, that sent a wonderful smell wafting through the house and trickling my nostrils. Phimine was utterly burning with jealousy.

“It is so not fair that I have to go to school while you get to relax in a bed,” she pouted.

“Life isn’t fair, Phimine,” I gave her a sideways smile. “Anyways, if you also want to be sick you can come here and hug me.”

She shuddered from the door. “Nope, I’m good. I should get going. Don’t die while I’m in school, alright?” she disappeared from the doorway. I breathed in air that smelt like freedom. Nobody in the house to tell me what to do. Even if I was grounded, I could do innumerable things in the room. One of the first was sneaking out the psychological thriller I had been reading from under my pillow. I delved into the book and tried to make sense of what was going on in the mind of the protagonist who had just murdered someone when Limia called me for breakfast.

As I sat on the table and munched on the food while binging on my table, a strange ringing sound made way to my ears. I glanced around, confused. A sudden thought came to my mind that scared the hell out of me. What if I was imagining it and I was out of my mind or I was going senile? Limia saved me from my wild fantasies by coming out of the kitchen and gazing around too. “What’s that sound?”

I followed the ringing noise to level three, below my floor, where my father’s and sister’s bedrooms were. It led me to my father’s bedroom, where a phone was ringing on the bedside table. I dashed for it, but by the time I reached it stopped ringing. A sigh escaped my lips.

I suddenly noticed a box lying there. It looked like an old jewellery box, with small blue butterflies made on it and a faded floral background. I wondered why my father would possess something like that. Maybe it had been my grandmother’s and he had kept it as a family heirloom. The lid was slightly open and I could see some paper peeking out.

I pulled out the paper to see messy black writing on it. My dearest Geraki, it began. That was my mother.

A sudden memory flashed in my mind. My mother was sitting in front of a mirror, and I was watching her get ready for a party from behind the curtains. She looked fabulous in a long emerald green dress, and she took out a necklace with precious green stones embedded in it from a box. The very box before me. I watched her putting it on her neck and trying to fatten the clasp when she saw me. She called me out and showed it to me, then told me that when I grew up and I still liked it she would hand it over to me, and I had been overjoyed.

I stumbled on air as I returned to the present. I had never remembered that incident before, but the memory from three year old me had been triggered in my brain at the sight of the box. I glanced at the letter again. Love, Homer they said. My dad’s name. Letters between my parents. I wondered what mysteries they held, and my curiosity fought with my scruples until it finally won.