WHEN SILENCE TOOK OVER
The Last Supper as a Family
Chapter 1
A Night That Changed Everything
The golden light of the setting sun streamed through the
windows, casting a warm glow over the dining table. The air
carried the delicious aroma of home cooked food, blending with
the soft clinking of plates and the occasional bursts of laughter.
It was one of those ordinary evenings safe, comforting, the kind
that made the world feel whole.
John, a bright eyed twelve-year-old, giggled as his father
cracked another one of his signature corny jokes. Across the
table, Liyah, his fifteen-year-old sister, smirked and shook her
head, her focus on their mother's odd habit of arranging the
plates with military precision.
Their father, a sturdy man in his late thirties with kind eyes
and a deep, reassuring voice, leaned back in his chair with a grin.
Father: So, John, why don't skeletons ever fight each other?
John looked up, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "I don't know. Why?"
Their father dramatically paused, then delivered the punch-
line with a smirk.
Father: Because they don't have the guts!
John nearly choked on his laughter. "Dad! That was terrible!"
he said, still chuckling. "Did you come up with that, or is it
from one of those old joke books?"
His father folded his arms. "Excuse me, young man, that was
an original creation."
John laughed again, while Liyah rolled her eyes. "I swear, Dad,
your dad jokes are getting worse."
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, their mother was placing dishes in
perfect rows. Liyah, standing beside her, observed with amused
curiosity.
Liyah: "Mom, why do you always line up the plates like they're in a
parade?"
Her mother, a petite woman with sharp yet gentle features,
gave her daughter a playful look.
Mother: "Because order is important, young lady. How would
you like it if your food was all over the place, sauce mixing with rice,
and ''ugh'' your meat touching the vegetables?"
Liyah raised an eyebrow. "As long as it tastes good, I don't
care. You should try it be wild, Mom!"
Her mother chuckled, shaking her head. "Be wild? Sweet-
heart, you have no idea. I was the queen of wild back in the
day."
Liyah scoffed, folding her arms. "You? Wild? Mom, please."
Her mother smirked and wiped her hands on a towel. "Oh,
you don't believe me? Remind me to show you my old dance
competition photos."
Liyah's mouth fell open. "Dance competitions?! Mom, what?!"
Before her mother could respond, a loud, intense screech cut
through the air, followed by an extremely loud crash. The
ground trembled ever so slightly, like a distant explosion had
rippled through the night.
The laughter died instantly. The sound left an eerie silence in
its wake, as if the world had suddenly been put on mute.
Their father was the first to react. He stood up from his chair,
his expression shifting from amusement to sharp alertness.
Father: "Stay here."
His voice was calm, but the undertone of urgency was unmis-
takable. He turned to his wife and children, his usual warmth
replaced with something firm, something protective.
Father: "John, Liyah, go upstairs. Lock the door. Don't open it
unless you hear my voice."
John's breath hitched, and Liyah's fingers curled into fists.
John: "Dad, what's going on?"
Liyah: "Shouldn't we call the police?"
Their father shook his head. "Just do as I say." His tone left
no room for argument.
Their mother gently took their hands, guiding them toward the
staircase. Liyah hesitated at the bottom step, looking back just
in time to see her father grab his jacket and step toward the door.
His face was unreadable equal parts determination and concern.
Then he was gone.
Upstairs, in their parents' bedroom, the three of them sat hud-
dled on the bed. The minutes crawled by, stretching unbearably
long. The house, which had been filled with warmth and life just moments ago, now felt like a cold, fragile shell.
John clung to his mother's arm. "Why hasn't Dad come back?"
Their mother rubbed his back absentmindedly, her gaze fixed
on the door as if willing it to open.
Liyah strained her ears, listening. Then she heard it muffled
voices from outside. Raised voices. A commotion. Then…
"Silence."
A silence so thick it felt like the entire world had stopped
breathing.
Their mother exhaled sharply and stood.
Mother: "Stay here. Don't open this door."
Liyah: "Mom, wait! You can't go alone…"
But their mother was already gone, slipping out of the room
before Liyah could protest further.
John grabbed Liyah's hand, squeezing tight. "She'll bring
Dad back, right?"
Liyah nodded automatically, but her heart pounded painfully
in her chest.
Downstairs, the house was eerily still. Their mother moved
cautiously toward the front door, the night air pouring in like a
cold whisper. Her breath came short and uneven as she stepped
outside.
The street was dark, save for a flickering streetlight a few houses
down. Her eyes move around until they landed on the source
of the crash. A black sedan was wrecked against a lamppost, its
hood crumpled and smoke curling from under it.
And then her heart stopped.
There, on the pavement, lay her husband.
"No…" The word barely left her lips as she stumbled forward.
"No, no, no—"
She dropped to her knees beside him, trembling hands reach-
ing out. His eyes were closed, his face streaked with blood. She
pressed her fingers to his wrist.
No pulse.
A sob tore from her throat. "Please, no. Not you."
She clutched his shirt, shaking him as if that would bring him
back. "Wake up! Please wake up!" But there was no response.
Tears streamed down her eyes, and for the first time in years,
she felt truly helpless.
Somewhere in the distance, the wail of sirens echoed, but they
sounded far away ''too far.''
Slowly, as if in a trance, she got to her feet. Her body felt like
lead as she forced herself to walk back inside.
Upstairs, Liyah and John sat frozen, the air heavy with unspo-
ken fear. The door creaked open, and their mother stood there,
pale and shaking.
Liyah stood up. "Mom?! What happened? Where's Dad?"
John's eyes darted behind her, searching. "Where is he?"
Their mother took a trembling breath, then forced herself to
speak. "Your father…" Her voice cracked, and she swallowed
hard. "He's gone."
The words didn't make sense at first.
Liyah stared at her. "What do you mean, gone?"
Her mother wiped at her face, but fresh tears replaced the ones
she brushed away. "He's not coming back, sweetheart."
John, unable to comprehend it fully, shook his head. "No.
Dad wouldn't just leave us. He promised we'd finish the movie
after dinner. He-he " His voice broke into sobs.
Their mother gathered them both into her arms, holding them
as tightly as she could, as if holding them together could stop
their world from falling apart.
The night had begun in laughter.
Now, it ended in silence.
A silence that stretched deep and endless, swallowing their
world whole.
CHAPTER [2 ]...