Silo's Fortune | Teen Ink

Silo's Fortune

March 30, 2021
By jtputrinopastor, Orange, New Jersey
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jtputrinopastor, Orange, New Jersey
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Author's note:

Silo’s Fortune is dedicated to the memory of George Flyod and everyone who is brave enough to stand up against racism. Silo, in his mind, was just a kid who didn’t have the right words or enough power to beat the hatred in Billy’s words or actions. Silo’s fortune was his courage, not his fancy words. For every kid, like myself, struggling to find the right words to stop racism and end violence - don’t be afraid to say something. The worst thing we could do is stay silent. We need more Silos in the world. Let’s fill the world with our voices and messages of love. George Floyd deserved to live and we have a responsibility to use our fortune!

In a modest town, far from tall buildings and racing progress, Silo spent his afternoons sitting by the small window in his unkempt room. He had gotten used to watching his neighbors walking around speechless. In his town, you had to pay for words and clearly some words were more expensive than others. Silo’s family, in their crowded two-bedroom apartment, bought words to survive and rarely spent it on lavish words that tickled your mouth or echoed in the air. The only words Silo heard came from Billy, the 8th grade boy, who followed Silo and Alex home everyday. He would throw phrases out of his mouth like daggers, “Alex, cat got your tongue?” Billy’s heavy footsteps were silent in comparison to his words. He loved to mock them, especially poor Alex who lived in a one-bedroom apartment on the other side of town and hunted for words in trash cans. Billy had no shame tossing words on the floor knowing that Alex would rush to collect them from the dirty streets of embarrassment. “You’re so pathetic,” Billy would taunt Alex. Silo would stand there praying that Billy wouldn’t see him. Even with a few unimpressive words in his pocket, Silo would be left with nothing if Billy forced him to speak. 

It was a dark, gloomy Wednesday afternoon. The sky was a roaring lion waiting to pounce. Alex and Silo started to walk home quickly trying to out race the heavy clouds when Billy aggressively grabbed Alex by the back of his hoodie. Alex tumbled to the ground like a boulder and immediately shielded his head. Billy’s laugh pierced through the rain. Silo watched as Billy shoved his hands into Alex’s pockets, carelessly ripping his words from his jeans. Alex and Silo had been friends for years but Silo had never heard Alex use any of his words before. He didn’t question him because he knew that Alex saved his precious words for his family. There, in what felt like a helpless moment, Silo watched as the words “Help”, “Hungry”, “Don’t Hurt Me”, and “Please” bled in the rain. It must have taken months, if not years, to save those words and in a few selfish seconds - they were gone. Alex wept. He wept hard into the pavement and Silo turned to Billy, with alarming anger, and swung. Silo’s fragile fist grazed Billy’s chin. The blow had not only surprised Billy but it shocked Silo as well. Billy quickly turned to the startled boys and began yelling, “Officer, help. These boys attacked me!” Sirens blasted through the storm and the boys frantically gathered themselves and started running home. Alex’s tears streamed down his face, nervous that we would not have anything to say if the police caught him. Silo, still in shock, nervously peeked his hands into his pockets searching for words that could save him. Silo’s pockets were empty, his heart heavy, and his defense pointless.  

Thursday morning was a blur. Silo and Alex went through their day avoiding Billy at all costs. They even skipped lunch so that they wouldn’t have to face him. Unfortunately, at dismissal Billy cornered the boys in the rear stairwell. It was crowded, everyone rushing to go home, but suddenly no one had anywhere to go. The entire school had front row seats to Silo’s nightmare. Silo tried to casually walk past Billy as if his legs weren’t trembling with fear. In one swift move, Billy shoved Silo down the stairs. His fragile body bounced like a deflated ball as the kids moved away giving Silo room to crash on the bottom step. Alex could feel his heart pounding knowing he was next but paralyzed in fear, he didn’t move. As Billy moved toward him, Alex’s tears ran down his check, and Silo watched from a distance. There was nothing Silo could do to help his friend. His aching body forced him to stay on the ground and the only words he had left in his pockets were fragments of conversations that he had never had. Silo lifted his head and blurted out in defeat, “Video game”, “Thanks”, “Sneakers”, and “Outside.” Suddenly the hallway was silent, Billy turned to Silo and let out an obnoxious laugh that shook the cement under his body. The words felt useless and fell on deaf ears. Billy kept walking toward Alex and Silo was left wordless when slowly the kids around them started to fill the space with their own random words. Soon words like “hamburger” and “homework” were bumping into each other and creating noise. There was so much noise in the hallway that it drowned out Billy’s laughter and chased him away. 

Silo and Alex never saw Billy again. No one ever questioned where Billy went or if he would be coming back but everyone in their town had decided that there wasn’t any room for people like Billy. After a long time of silence, the town also realized that no one should have to pay for words. There is no price that can be attached to freedom. It had taken Silo a lot of courage to accept that truth. He had to be willing to lose everything before he was able to win anything. His courage is what filled that hallway that afternoon and what inspired others to speak up against hatred. 

Alex and Silo still walk home together everyday, mostly in silence, but on some days, if you listen closely, you can hear Alex say, “Thank you.”



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