📖 Chapter 1 – The Silence That Began with My BraidsI was born in a village — a small place smelling of earth, where everyone knew each other. We were three children at home, and I was the eldest. Since my siblings came one after the other, my mother’s hands were always full with them. It was my grandmother who looked after me — the woman I shared a home with, whose hands smelled of salty yogurt and mothballs. She protected me, yet taught me the harshness of life, step by step.I studied at the village school for seven years, until I was sent to the city school. I was thirteen then. I might have looked like a child for my age, but I was tall, and my braids — long as rivers — reached my knees, brushing against my waist. Maybe... maybe it all began with those braids.One day, I was walking home from school again. There was something strange — from the start of the road, I could feel it. Someone was walking behind me. It wasn’t the first time. It had been happening every day. The same quiet steps, the same distance... I never turned to look. My mother had already beaten me several times because of this “follower.” I hadn't looked back, hadn’t spoken a word to him — but that wasn't enough for her. The follower was a boy. Silent. Calm. Constant. Perhaps it was him who first taught me the meaning of patience and persistence.One day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was walking on a quiet path far from the noise of cars when I suddenly stopped and turned to face him. He wasn’t expecting it. Our eyes met.“Why are you following me? My mother hits me because of you. Please... just stop coming,” I said.I was angry. But the moment I spoke, the way he looked at me made all that anger melt inside. He didn’t speak. But his gaze... it spoke. Long, still, innocent — he looked at me with eyes that said everything without a word.It was the first time I stood that close to a boy, in silence, in honesty. I froze. As if time had paused. He was looking. So was I...Then suddenly, I snapped out of it. I turned and ran. Ran home like a wild wind. But something had changed after that day. Every time I left school and didn’t see him, I felt an odd emptiness. Where was he? Why wasn’t he there today?Then, he returned. Walking behind me again. Step by step. But I wasn’t angry anymore. On the contrary — his silent presence began to bring a small smile to my heart.I was attending music school too, learning piano. During those days, my silent follower had grown braver. Sometimes he walked beside me, on my right. Sometimes, he crossed the road to walk parallel to me. Still, not a word. Just silence. But now, I no longer feared that silence. I had learned to listen to it — and I liked what it said.As time passed, without realizing it, I began to grow attached to him. I started watching him, too — or rather, watching without watching. I listened to the rhythm of his steps. I listened to the silence between us. His presence gave me a strange sense of comfort, of safety. As if someone was behind me, and nothing could ever harm me.I was no longer alone...Chapter 2 – The First GlanceI was thirteen at the time. I can’t say I wasn’t pretty — my braids hung below my knees, my skin was somewhere between golden and fair, and my eyes were filled with the purity and innocence of a child. But I didn’t have enough confidence to consider myself beautiful. There was only one thing I was certain of — I was different.That boy... he followed me every day. Silently, without a word... He simply walked behind me, as if protecting me from a distance, never once crossing the line, just matching my steps. But once I reached home, everything changed. My mother’s eyes would narrow with suspicion, and that suspicion often ended in harsh words and the sting of discipline meant to “teach me manners.” Every time, I swore, “I didn’t do anything! He just walks behind me!” But she wouldn’t listen.So one day, I made a decision. I had to put an end to this silent shadow. That day, just like always, I felt him behind me as I left school. At the far end of the road, where the crowd faded and silence swallowed the noise, I stopped abruptly. I turned around and blocked his path.— Why do you keep following me? Because of you, my mother scolds me, beats me. Please, stop following me!My words were full of anger, but my voice trembled. He paused for a moment, then looked straight into my eyes. And in that gaze... time stood still. My anger vanished. His silence was no longer threatening — it was soft, steady, unshakable. In that fleeting moment, there were no accusations, no words — just two children, two hearts, and two eyes speaking louder than any voice.It was as if he had sensed the quiver in my eyes. He smiled, gently. And something inside me cracked open. It was the first time I had ever looked a boy in the eyes. I was scared, yet something warm and unfamiliar coursed through me. I lost myself in that feeling. I turned away and ran — my heart pounding