Mira could not remember when she had
first learned to become quiet. It had not been a single moment, a sudden event, or a sharp rejection. No words had cut her into pieces, no cruelty had burned her into awareness. Instead, the habit of silence had formed gradually, subtly, like water learning the contours of its container. She adapted. She adjusted. She shrank. She walked through corridors measuring her steps, modulating her voice to avoid attention, learning which gestures were tolerated and which demanded scrutiny. Noise invited notice, and notice was unpredictable, often dangerous. Enthusiasm, unrestrained and free, was welcomed by some and ignored by others, leaving only the weight of exposure behind. Mira had learned to occupy space lightly, to bend without breaking, to exist in a constant state of negotiation with the world around her.
Her survival depended on being present without being seen, aware without participating, noticing without intruding. She cataloged everything; the tilt of someone's head, the rhythm of steps across a hallway, the small expressions people left behind in the wake of conversation. She became skilled at absorbing stories she would never tell, noting small betrayals, tiny joys, gestures unnoticed by all but herself. When she was spoken over, she stepped back. When her ideas were ignored, she filed them away carefully. When she was forgotten, she forgave before apology could be offered. This was not selflessness. It was protection. She believed, perhaps wrongly, that she mattered less than others. And so, she shaped herself to fit invisibly into the spaces that remained. Walking across campus, she avoided collisions, avoided attention, and avoided expectation. Occasionally, dangerous thoughts arose and she will ask herself what if she did not shrink? What if she claimed space fully? The idea tightened her chest, yet also hinted at possibility. Quiet was safer. Quiet preserved her, letting her navigate the world without incident. It was a skill, a weapon, a fragile armor. And for now, it was all she could rely upon.
