The Silent Symphony

The day my brother was diagnosed with vocal cord polyps, an unprecedented argument erupted in our house.

Five million in penalty fees, five hundred thousand for surgery.

For a family already crushed by my medical expenses, these were astronomical numbers.

Mom pointed at me huddled in the corner of the sofa wearing headphones, breaking down in tears:

"Why wasn't he the one who went mute back then? Why does one have to be mute, and the other has to become mute too!"

My brother Liam stormed out, slamming the door. Before leaving, his eyes red, he looked at me coldly:

"Mara, if I were the beneficiary of that accident insurance policy, how wonderful that would be."

I took off my headphones. There was actually no music playing inside.

Ever since that fire five years ago when I rescued my brother, I could no longer make a sound, and my left hand could no longer play the violin.

I looked at the "High-Value Accidental Death Insurance Policy" on the table. Dad had bought it years ago, gritting his teeth through the payments, worried that no one would take care of mea disabled personin the future. The beneficiary was listed as the legal heirs.

I glanced at the bottle of antidepressants hidden in my pocket.

I thought, Liam was right.

With just one accident, my brother could use the money to cure his voice, and he could use the songs I'd hidden in my violin case to continue shining on stage.

This time, I really won't be a burden to you anymore.

The soundproofing in the house was terrible. The oppressive sounds of argument from the living room seeped through the door crack and drilled into my ears.

"Sell the house? Have you lost your mind? If we sell the house, where will the four of us live? Sleep on the streets?"

Mom's voice was shrill and broken, choked with sobs.

"Then what do you suggest? Five million in penalties, five hundred thousand for surgery! Even if we sold our old bones, it wouldn't be enough!"

Dad slammed the ashtray down with a clang.

"Liam's voice can't wait! The doctor said the earlier the surgery, the better the recovery. If we delay and it becomes chronic, his career will truly be over!"

"Why is my life so bitter..."

Mom's crying came in fits and starts.

"We shouldn't have been so soft-hearted back then... These past few years treating that mute's depression, paying for surgery on that useless handthe family's savings were completely drained. If we still had that money..."

"Enough! Stop it!"

Dad sighed heavily.

"What's the point of saying this now? She's Liam's biological sister. During the fire, she only got hurt because she was saving Liam..."

"What good did saving him do? She's dragged down the whole family for life!"

Mom screamed hysterically.

"If I'd known it would come to this, I'd rather have back then..."

She didn't finish the sentence, but I knew what she wanted to say.

I also knew she wasn't truly cruel. She was just too tired, too desperate.

People bent under life's heavy burdens always need an outlet.

And I was that perfect outlet.

By the moonlight streaming through the window, I looked at myself in the mirror.

Pale face, vacant eyeslike a wandering ghost in the mortal world.

Yes, I was a burden.

What value did my existence have besides creating problems for this family?

I touched my pocket, where I had a few hundred dollars secretly saved up.

It was my private stash, accumulated by deliberately taking fewer pills, scraping together a little at a time.

Under cover of darkness, I slipped out to the pharmacy.

Standing at the counter, I typed on my phone to show the clerk:

[Do you have the best throat-soothing lozenges? The kind that's handmade and helps relieve vocal cord polyps?]

The clerk pulled out a glass jar from the cabinet.

"This one's from an old established brand, made purely with natural ingredients. The effect is especially good, just a bit expensiveover three hundred dollars."

Over three hundred dollars.

Nearly all my savings.

Without hesitation, I nodded and paid.

Walking back with that heavy glass jar, my steps felt much lighter.

I remembered when we were little, Liam loved sweets the most.

Every time he caught a cold and coughed, he'd beg for throat-soothing syrup. Back then the family was poor, so Mom could only make it herself, and he always complained it wasn't sweet enough.

This expensive jar I boughtit should be really sweet, right?

When I got home, I tiptoed to Liam's bedroom door. I didn't dare knock, afraid he'd see me and lose his temper again.

I carefully placed the jar of lozenges at his door, positioning it where he'd see it as soon as he opened the door, silently saying:

Liam, good night.

The next morning, Liam sat at the dining table eating breakfast, his face terrifyingly dark.

Mom carefully peeled an egg for him:

"Liam, eat something. Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach."

"I'm not eating! I'm full of anger already!"

Liam threw down his fork.

"I'm already irritated, and first thing this morning I open my door to see that unlucky thing!"

My heart lurched.

Following his gaze, I saw the jar of lozenges lying in the trash can.

"That... the packaging looks pretty nice..."

Mom quietly tried to reason with him.

Liam let out a cold laugh.

"Mom, look at her pathetic statewhat good thing could she possibly afford? This kind of product from who-knows-where, do you want me to eat it and ruin my voice?"

"What if something goes wrong? Can she compensate for it?"

"A mutebeing a useless person herself is bad enough, and now she wants to harm me!"

He stood up, and as he passed the trash can, he gave it another vicious kick.

The glass jar rolled in the trash can, mixing with the dirty water inside, becoming filthy and polluted.

Just like my heartoffered to him with good intentions, only to be trampled under his feet with disgust.

I stood at the bedroom door, silently closed it, slid down against the door panel to the floor, and pulled out from my pocket the insurance policy I'd already signed.

Liam was right.

I truly couldn't compensate.

But my lifethat should be enough compensation.

Since you looked down on that three-hundred-dollar jar of lozenges,

Then this five-million-dollar giftyou should be satisfied with that, right?

I closed my eyes and revealed a bleak smile.

Liam, don't worry.

The best medicineyour sister is already preparing it for you.

It was an unusually violent rainstorm. Lightning bolt after lightning bolt struck down, illuminating this crumbling old apartment complex.

Another tremendous crash, and the window buzzed and trembled.

I lifted my head groggily and through the window saw a silver-gray performance outfit hanging on the balcony.

It was Liam's most treasured piece of clothing, the battle robe he planned to wear for his comeback. Custom-made by hand, covered with Swarovski crystals.

To buy this outfit, Mom had scrimped and saved, even cutting off my physical therapy fees for a month.

At this moment, that expensive outfit was swaying violently in the wind and rain, about to be soaked through.

If this outfit was ruined...

I could imagine Liam's furious reaction, Mom's breakdown and sobbing, imagine them pointing at my nose and cursing:

"Don't you have any awareness? It's raining and you don't know to bring in the clothes? You just sat inside watching it get soaked?"

I smiled bitterly.

Yes, I was useless, but I still needed to be useful trash with some awareness.

Supporting myself against the wall, I stumbled out of my room and pushed open the glass door to the balcony.

The fierce wind mixed with icy rain hit my face. I shivered, nearly blown over by the wind.

Our balcony was very old. The railing was one of those iron barriers from over a decade ago. A few days earlier, property management had issued a notice saying this batch of railings had safety issues and asked each household to pay attention to repairs.

Dad had looked at it and sighed.

"Repair what? Replacing a railing costs several thousand. Where does the family have spare money now? Just make do. Just don't lean on it normally."

Don't lean on it.

I looked at that iron railing swaying precariously in the wind and rain, and suddenly that crazy thought flashed through my mind.

Wasn't this... the perfect opportunity?

Heavy rain, slippery ground, an old and damaged railing, a sister trying to save her brother's expensive performance outfit.

Everything was so reasonable.

Everything was so seamless.

I took a deep breath of the moist air thick with the smell of earth. My chest, which had felt suffocated for so long, actually felt a trace of long-lost relief in this moment.

Step by step, I moved toward the edge of the balcony.

The rain quickly soaked my hair and pajamas, ice-cold and piercing, yet it made my muddled brain unusually clear.

I reached out my hand and grabbed that wildly dancing performance outfit.

I held it in my arms, carefully protecting it.

The outfit was safely retrieved. Next, it was time to end this.

I turned around, my waist against that rust-covered railing.

It let out a creak, seeming to tremble under the unbearable weight.

I looked at the glittering outfit in my hands, remembering that year when I was twelve, when the fire broke out. I had held little Liam in my arms just like this.

Back then I'd said:

"Don't be afraid, your sister will get you out."

Back then I was a hero.

And now, I was a burden.

But it didn't matter. Even as a burden, I still had value to burn one last time.

The tiles under my feet were very slippery.

Following that gust of fierce wind, I shifted all my body weight backward.

The sound of the railing breaking was drowned out by the rolling thunder.

My body instantly lost its support.

The moment the sensation of weightlessness hit, I just held tightly to the outfit in my arms, letting myself fall into the endless curtain of rain.

The sound of wind howled in my ears, like a grand symphony.

The descent was actually very quick, but in my consciousness, it seemed stretched out for a century.

I watched the sixth floor grow farther and farther away from me.

Mom, I'm sorry. Your unfilial daughter is going first.

That day you said you'd had enough of this life.

Don't be afraid. When the sun rises tomorrow, the nightmare will be over.

You'll never have to worry about money again, never have to sigh looking at this disabled daughter.

Liam.

The lozenges your sister boughtyou threw them away. It's okay.

This performance outfit, your sister retrieved it for you.

And that five-million-dollar accident insurance policy, your sister is delivering it to you.

You must use it to cure your voice, stand on the biggest stage, and sing the songs your sister wrote for you to the whole world.

The intense pain was only momentary.

Immediately after came boundless, endless darkness.

How wonderful.

The world was finally quiet.

The morning after the rain stopped, police cars and ambulances shattered the quiet of the apartment complex.

I floated in mid-air, watching that body covered with a white cloth below.

That was me.

The investigating officer was a middle-aged man. He frowned as he examined the broken section of railing, then looked at the performance outfit I'd protected with my life in my arms.

"Preliminary determination is accidental fall."

The officer closed his notebook, his tone carrying a trace of melancholy.

"The railing was old and damaged, plus last night's rain made it slippery. The deceased... should have lost her footing trying to retrieve this outfit."

"Even falling like this, she protected the outfit so well it didn't get a speck of mud on it."

The officer handed the performance outfit to Liam, who stood nearby in shock.

"Take it. This is what your sister traded her life for."

Liam's hands trembled as he took the outfit.

Hearing the word "accidental," Mom's legs went weak and she collapsed directly to the ground.

"My daughter... why were you so foolish..."

She cried heart-wrenchingly.

But I could see clearlyin the depths of her tear-blurred eyes was a trace of imperceptible relief.