She didn’t cry loudly this time. No dramatic screams, no running in circles like she sometimes did when the world felt too big for her tiny heart. Instead, Baby Monkey Cici just climbed closer, her small hands gripping gently onto my shirt, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a quiet storm.
“Hold me… until I stop shaking.”
Her voice was soft, almost lost in the air, but the fear inside it was heavy. It wasn’t just a request—it was a need.
So I held her.
At first, she was tense. Her little fingers clutched tightly, her face pressed against my chest as if she was trying to hide from something unseen. Her breathing came in short, uneven bursts. Each tiny shiver told a story she couldn’t explain—memories, fears, loneliness… things too big for words.
I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t move. I just stayed.
Minutes passed, slow and quiet. I could feel her heartbeat racing, matching the rhythm of her shaking body. I gently stroked her back, over and over, the same soft motion, hoping it would tell her what words couldn’t.
You’re safe. You’re not alone.
She shifted slightly, still holding on, but not as tight as before. Her breathing began to soften, the sharp edges slowly smoothing out. The trembling didn’t disappear all at once—it faded little by little, like rain slowly stopping after a long storm.
Her tiny face peeked up for a moment, eyes still glossy, searching. Not for answers… just for reassurance.
I stayed right there.
“I’m here,” I whispered.
She didn’t reply, but she didn’t need to. Instead, she rested her head back down, this time more gently, like she was finally allowing herself to believe it.
The shaking grew weaker. Her fingers loosened their grip. Her body, once so tense, slowly melted into calm. What was once fear turned into quiet comfort.
And then… stillness.
Not the empty kind, but the peaceful kind.
She let out a soft sigh, the kind that comes after holding too much inside for too long. Her eyes began to close, her breathing now slow and steady, like she had found a safe place to rest.
I kept holding her, just like she asked.
Even after the shaking stopped.