Kneeling in Silence - By Hannah Shee
Written By: Hannah Shee
Category: Short story
Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026
In the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Hannah Shee presents "Kneeling in Silence," a poignant short story that delves into the complexities of family dynamics and silent resilience. Through the narrative, Hannah explores the enigmatic past of her mother's family, revealing the struggles and silent suffering of her late uncle Bennie. This story offers a reflective journey into a world where societal norms and family expectations collide, leaving a lasting impression on the reader.
About the Work
Hannah Shee's "Kneeling in Silence" is a deeply introspective narrative that captures the quiet struggles and unspoken questions of a life overshadowed by societal indifference. The story is rich with emotional depth, painting a vivid picture of a family's internal conflicts and cultural heritage. Through a delicate use of imagery and a compassionate tone, Hannah portrays the enduring impact of a life lived in silence, highlighting themes of empathy, identity, and the enduring quest for belonging.
Kneeling in Silence
Original Submission by Hannah Shee
(878 words)
Kneeling in Silence
My mum’s side of the story has always been enigmatic.
She lived a childhood life where modern society couldn’t adapt, but her people did.
Time moved differently.
People would acknowledge, ignore, and watch the others perish as if it were mundane.
So I grew up listening to her mantras of how lucky I was in contrast to her world.
Recently,
I had a conversation with her about my late uncle Bennie who had been living in an old frame from the corner ever since I was aware. He was two years younger than her and was adopted by my maternal grandparents when he was a healthy baby boy.
But when he was five years old, things started to alter for him.
He began to grow physically slanted, which caught the attention of the family.
The older he grew, the more visibly flawed he became.
By the time he was a teenager, he was half the height of his peers; his ribs would crush his dreams, preventing him from living.
Henceforth, he would carry his imperfections to seek help from the guardians, all of which fell short.
His requests were mainly answered for the sake of human morality, not authenticity.
The locals desired the roots of his beginning - was he cursed? Even his birth mother was mysteriously gone. But none could answer the curiosities.
Gradually, people got used to it and lived their daily routines as if he were one of the nuances in the street. As a matter of fact, he was still just a boy with many unspoken questions the world wasn’t ready for.
Someone like him could only be detected by someone introspective, like mum.
I thought solemnly, as she conveyed this story to me.
-------
“Mummy, do Grandma and Grandpa know how he felt?” I asked her, eye-widened.
“They couldn’t care that much. By human nature, he wasn’t their biological son, nor was he the best-looking,” she replied. “That’s right. We were all busy trying to survive”.
It wasn’t uncommon for Chinese families to be like this at that time. Many were surviving daily. The time, the place, the topic of love and care just wasn’t the ‘trinity’ in their era.
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Uncle Bennie was always afraid to sleep alone in the dark and for the longest time, he knelt to sleep whenever he could. His pain intertwined his prayers and twisted into a sorrowful existential crisis. Alas. God knows how much warfare he had to endure every night with the blindness in his right eye from a childhood injury.
Halfway through the story, I was already crushed by uncle Bennie’s life.
Someone I had never met before.
Someone who didn’t know my existence.
Through the story I could already feel his grief.
I could imagine the conversations we could have had if he were still alive today.
--------
“It’s good that he is gone,” mum broke the silence. “It’s too painful for him, and he could have been a burden if he still lived today.”
My heart sank, but she has a point.
Some pains are not meant to be endured on earth forever. They have their limits. Even they seem conscious of when to leave.
--------
That night, as the eldest daughter, she wanted to word-vomit out everything she could - the years of suppressed emotions.
“SEND HIM TO THE HOSPITAL NOW! HE IS ALREADY BREATHING LIKE THIS, AND NO ONE KNEW? WHY IS NO ONE CARING? HE IS YOUR CHILD.” My mum saw red.
She has always been the worrisome kind even when she was a little girl. That natural trait of hers made her decide to check on his room, and that’s where she found him in that kneeling-down position - not modelling what he had seen in church, but half asleep and half gasping for air.
There was a purple shade in every nail, declaring that his last breaths were there.
------
Brrrrrrrrrrrr.
The small run-down motorbike started to heat and synced with uncle Bennie’s response to the surroundings before drowning him out.
The destination: a 1980 hospital in Malaya.
How well-equipped could it be?
Pitter Patter.
Pitter Patter.
That was the rhythm of everyone’s heartbeats fusing in union.
Krrrrrrrrrrr.
The cranky tyres pelted on and off on the sand-strewn road as they travelled a few hours from the outskirts to the small city.
-------
Uncle Bennie was sick. He knew his days were coming. He felt outcast from the day he gained consciousness of his new self. He knew he did not want to be a burden anymore. He wanted his life to slip away quietly.
Maybe in the next life. I could be a normal young man. I can’t wait to be loved. He thought as he surrendered.
-------
There was a surge.
Then, a phone call.
A nineteen-year-old life was taken.
Another invisible life gone.
Gone.
-------
That moment was fast-forwarded in a few days.
The daily presence from temporary audiences was as raw as an onion peeling its skin and we wonder why death gravitates people like a sting, unable to tell if their sobs were guilt or pity.
The world had continued spinning for three decades ever since.
--------
The phone rang and mum ended the story.
That chapter was something that she did not want to face again.
Yet, it became a story cached in me.
About the Competition
The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar serves as a prestigious platform for writers worldwide to showcase their literary talents. This competition celebrates creativity and storytelling across genres, providing participants the opportunity to share their unique voices and perspectives with a global audience. It fosters a community of writers who push the boundaries of narrative and poetic expression.
We extend our gratitude to Hannah Shee for her moving contribution, "Kneeling in Silence," to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her story offers a powerful exploration of family, resilience, and silent struggles, resonating deeply with readers. We appreciate Hannah's participation and look forward to seeing more of her evocative storytelling in the future.
About Hashtag Kalakar
Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.
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