Chapter One., Monday, March 19, 2012, 8:35 AM

Have you ever felt that way before?

Like someone is playing a fool of you; spinning you round and round; giving you hope, then bringing you down, as if there isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel? That’s not what I’m really feeling now, though. My life had always been pretty smooth-sailing for the past twenty years or so; or so I thought, at least.

Perhaps I do want to feel strong all the time and I refuse to reveal any form of weakness in my life; but twenty years seemed to have worked like a breeze for me. I had a happy family – an adorable younger sister, and brother – even though he annoys me so frequently I always have the urge to throw something at him – my caring mother, benevolent yet loving father.

They treated me well; our family wasn’t very much well-off, but we were capable of extravagant food every fortnight; luxurious shopping mall trips; and we even owned a two storey house. That was a rather big deal in our small neighbourhood; some secluded corner hidden in the shadows of Chung Ju; where the kids there aren’t so much like those in the big city.

I had always enjoyed singing from young; I guess my father fostered my love in music, you could say. The music he played varied from genre to genre – I grew up listening from trot to their pop music in the 80’s, and grew to love English pop music back then. It always took me great difficulty to pronounce like those American singers; especially that irritably tough, yet so soothingly sweet-sounding accent; never failed to get on my nerves.

The Beatles, The Eagles, Air Supply and Westlife were the few bands that made me polish up my English skills; and it always gave me great joy when we had ‘Read an English book Aloud’ sessions in our public school, and the other kids would look at me in awe, as I lavished out the profound-looking words with a posh American accent.

Singing, of course, became more than just a hobby as I started to take part in our village’s singing competitions, and that great sense of satisfaction would always overwhelm me, as much as I was probably the longest-running champion the village ever had.

“Sing us a song, Ji-hyun ah!” would be the usual at some birthday party or wedding dinner, and I would always obligingly perform. Have you ever felt that way before too? That when you stand on that stage, high above the audience, their deafening applause and cheers invading your ears like some virus, and you start to perform, the people below with wide opened mouths, bulging eyes and sudden intakes of breath. It was fabulous; and an irresistible offer posed at every major event.

How could I say no to where my heart laid; on that stage, under that scorching spotlight, below the knowing and admirable glances of the audience?

And so at the tender age of sixteen, I told my parents about my decision; to attend the Anyang School of Arts; they took the proposal pretty well, surprisingly, and though there was an undeniable amount of worry weighing their creased eyebrows, I knew that they felt at ease to let me go.

I lived with my aunt there; she took great care of me as well, even though she was so caught up with work all the time, it sometimes felt like I was living alone. I didn’t feel very lonely though; I would always hang out with my new schoolmates, mainly Seungho, and Junhyung. Kind seniors, they were, even though they enjoyed building their happiness on my sorrow, making fun of my height, my young age, my ‘immature vocals’ – as quoted from my vocal trainer, and my villager ignorance etc.

I still enjoyed their company, nonetheless, and I missed those head-patting, shoulder-slinging, cheek-pinching bulgogi sessions after lessons; feeling more than comfortable with the two elder brotherly-like figures, who would always get into this huge argument about who should foot the bill. Sometimes I foot the bill myself just to shut them up, and they would react so violently, yelling something about ‘girls should never pay for the meal’ in the restaurant. It was pretty amusing to watch, really.

It wasn’t until Seungho left the school – he was in his final year when I entered the school – that I started missing them even more. We still kept in touch, and though Junhyung and I continued to have those bulgogi sessions, things were just slightly different without the leader.

I still remember jumping in glee as Seungho screamed excitedly into the phone, telling me that he passed the auditions for J.Tune Camp; and I was so happy for him I was almost crying tears of joy. Though I was slightly taken aback that he, the student majoring in Theatrical Arts, was going to become a singer; I was honestly glad for him.

And soon, Junhyung graduated too, and his graduation ceremony was filled with so much intense happiness, I started to consider about my own way after graduation as well.

“Ji-hyun ah. Gomawo (Thank you)” Junhyung whispered softly as he took me into his warm embrace; he looked so handsome in his graduation cape and hat.

“’Grats, Junhyung-oppa!” I said quietly, not masking the true admiration I had for him; as he chuckled silently, then pulling me away from his arms.

“Thank you for being here with me and Seungho hyung, Ji-hyun ah. Life in Anyang would’ve been ridiculously mundane if you weren’t here” he said honestly, suddenly whipping his head back to gesture a hello to his friend – he was always the popular hottie in school, no wonder.

I pouted. “Life is going to be just as ridiculously mundane as can be once you two leave, y’know” I complained a little, as Junhyung poked my left cheek with his index finger playfully, and managed a soft laugh.

“You’ll manage, you strong little girl. But tell us if it gets hard, okay? You know your oppas will be here to help you through everything, don’t you?” he asked gently, tidying my bangs; and looked at me endearingly.

I tried to muffle a chuckle. “I’m not used to you being so kind; why don’t you just go back to being that meanie you’ve been ever since you were born?” I suggested, as Junhyung’s face warped into a mask of mock horror, and he flicked my forehead with slight strength, laughing loudly as I winced.

“Your wish is my command” he said quietly, as he ducked down, and laid a soft sweet kiss on my left cheek, leaving me blushing at that spot while he simply winked; and floated away to become the social butterfly he always was.

That was nothing more than a polite, platonic kiss. Don’t overthink. Don’t you dare, Song Ji-hyun.

It wasn’t when I looked at his fading back, that I realised, that I might’ve fell for Yong Junhyung in school; perhaps, just a little. That tiny crush anyone would have, those unknowingly palpitations making her heart race; and it took her so long to realise. They could've been something, if she knew her heart well enough then.

Seungho cradled me tightly in his arms, like he would for an infant, as I saw him close his eyes tightly, a soft yet audible sob escaping his red lips; and I buried myself in his stage performance outfit, not willing to see him cry, not willing to let him see me cry.

“Why…” I heard him mutter quietly under his breath, then disguising it with a loud exhale of breath, and an awkward cough that couldn’t pass off as anything.

Why is something so terrible happening to me? Is that what you wanted to say, Seungho-oppa?

And I tried again, futilely, my mouth gaping like some goldfish out of water, like some child drowning in the sea; as darkness loomed over me, perhaps for the rest of my life.

For that moment, when I lost my voice, I felt like I had buried myself, and my mind, was my tomb.

Without any last words, I died.


~o~



(ref: "I've buried myself and my mind is my tomb" is a quote extracted from the booklet of 'Seven by One' choir concert. Author of this quote reserves all right of his/her work)

Prologue., , 5:14 AM

"I..." I tried to utter, and my lips mouthed the vowel perfectly; but only a choke surfaced. "Ah..." I tried again, but it just felt like somebody was forcing water down my throat, and I could only gargle those words of plea desperately.

"That's enough, Ji-hyun. I think you've tried enough" Seungho said softly, placing his warm palm on my shoulder. I could see the melancholy in his eyes, a worry etched in his beautiful features, and yet all I could do was look at him helplessly, with those horror-filled eyes.

"What is wrong with me, Seungho?" I wanted to ask; but the words wouldn't come to me. "Wha..." my mouth open wide, as yet another squeaky stutter was spat out. I had to be that stubborn, didn't I? I had to want to try to experiment; to see if I was still like what I was two days ago.

And it took me two days to finally realise the truth, the reality sinking in was slightly less overwhelming than I thought it would be. The world spun for just a short while, and then it stopped, for I started to ask myself the most crucial question.

"How am I ever going to sing from now on?"

And it was like a large truck ramming into my dignity; all that I had fought for in my life; all that I had been passionate about; my pride. All of that - gone. A gulp of saliva ran down my throat; and I looked - no, stared, into Seungho's large and bright eyes; now slightly watery, at my own reflection.

And this was the new me. The me that I had to take two days to finally know. The me who winced slightly; as a sudden surge of pain shot through my spine.
That I, Song Ji-hyun, am mute.