The Silence of the Lamb

Kayalvizhi and her mother, Shubha, shared a small, cozy house at the quiet end of the street. Despite being just 13 years old, Kayal possessed a remarkable ability—she couldn't hear or speak, yet she communicated effortlessly with her mother using sign language. Shubha, a dedicated chief nurse at a nearby hospital, ensured Kayal attended school daily, riding her scooty to drop her off.

One day, Kayal's class teacher approached Shubha with concerns about Kayal's recent behavior.

Shubha: Good morning, Priya. Is everything alright? You seemed a bit concerned when you called me in.

Priya: Good morning, Mrs. Shubha. Yes, I wanted to discuss something with you regarding Kayal's recent activities in class.

Shubha: Oh, I hope she hasn't been causing any trouble.

Priya: Not exactly trouble, but I've noticed some unusual behavior. Kayal has been telling some rather peculiar stories to her classmates.

Shubha: Peculiar stories? What kind of stories?

Priya: Well, they're quite... eerie, to be honest. Stories about things that go bump in the night, ghosts, and such. It's left her classmates feeling a bit unsettled.

Shubha: That does sound odd. Kayal hasn't mentioned anything like that at home.

Priya: That's why I thought it best to bring it to your attention just to make sure everything's alright.

Alarmed by this revelation, Shubha sat down with Kayal to talk. "Kayal, your teacher mentioned something strange. Can you tell me what's been going on?"

Kayal gazed at her mother, her eyes showing a blend of frustration and sadness. Using swift hand movements, she conveyed, "Mom, I've been listening to someone talking to me, but I don't know who or where they are."

Shubha felt a heavy weight settle in her chest. How could Kayal hear voices when she couldn't hear anything at all? Determined to understand what was happening, Shubha resolved to do something. "I'll get to the bottom of this," she thought to herself.

She decided to take action, placing her phone beneath Kayal's bed in the hope of capturing any mysterious voices that might be speaking to her daughter during the night. It was a small step, but Shubha hoped it would provide some answers to the unsettling situation.

The next morning, Shubha eagerly listened to the recording but found nothing except the usual sounds of the house.

Undeterred by the lack of results from the audio recording, Shubha resolved to gather more evidence. She carefully set up her phone to capture video while Kayal slept, ensuring her daughter remained unaware. The next day, she anxiously reviewed the footage.

As the scenes unfolded before her eyes, Shubha's breath caught in her throat. There, on the screen, was Kayal, fast asleep and yet clearly communicating in sign language as if engaged in a conversation with someone invisible.

Shubha's heart raced as she witnessed Kayal's fingers move gracefully, forming words she couldn't hear. She leaned in closer to the screen, trying to decipher the message encoded in her daughter's gestures.

Then, as Kayal's hands paused momentarily before continuing their fluid dance, Shubha read the message clear as day. "I told my mother about you," Kayal signed, her expression peaceful in slumber. "She didn't believe me, so she's recording everything. Please, don't hurt her."

Shubha felt a strange mix of feelings—she was both amazed and scared. She understood how serious the situation was. Her daughter wasn't just making up stories or imagining things. Something real and mysterious was happening to her. It was something that Shubha couldn't fully understand. And whoever or whatever was causing it had a message specifically for her. This left her feeling scared and unsure about what secrets the quiet of the night held.