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A scream of despair from the edge of a cliff.
Written by Malranggong.
*The material for this article was kindly provided by LOYA-S.
*Please note that this article contains scenes of violence and suicide.
Ayun opened her eyes with excruciating pain. The first thing that entered her vision was none other than the hospital ceiling. The doctor looked at her with worried eyes and kept opening and closing his mouth. Ayun stared at the doctor's mouth, wondering what he was saying, and only then did she realize she hadn't heard anything. She couldn't hear any surrounding noises, not even the distinctive hospital voices of the doctor and nurses. She couldn't hear anything. Not even the sound of the wind passing by. Ayun couldn't hear it.
Ah-yoon's memory was lost when she was slapped by her mother, when she spoke up for the first time, and then when her mother grabbed her hair and beat her stomach and face. Whether it was the excruciating pain or the shock, Ah-yoon had no memory after that. But when Ah-yoon saw her mother crying and feigning concern next to the doctor, she thought, "There's no getting away from this." Her freedom was taken away, her youth was taken away, and now even her hearing was taken away. Ah-yoon thought there was no hope. Still, a glimmer of hope remained. It was all thanks to Jimin. It was simply her love for Jimin, and thanks to that, Ah-yoon was able to harbor a glimmer of hope, even as she despaired over losing her hearing.
While she was hospitalized, high school friends would visit Ayun. She'd become known as the pianist who lost her hearing after falling down the stairs. Without even realizing it, she hadn't fallen down the stairs, and she'd hoped the accident wouldn't be reported in the news... but she was already famous. There was no way reporters would shy away from such stories. Provocative articles. Stories that would grab the public's attention. Ayun suffered because of the articles. Not only was she stressed, but she'd wake up with a raw throat every morning. Even in such a miserable state, Ayun was composing songs for someone. Perhaps it was then, when Ayun began to think about - -.
“…Are you okay?”
Jimin came to see Ayun. Ayun was happy just to have him come. Jimin still disliked her, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried. No matter how much he hated that someone was seriously injured, it was natural to be worried since she hadn't committed a crime. After all, they were friends. Jimin learned sign language for Ayun, who had already been able to do it. However, when Ayun asked how he knew how to do it, Jimin answered that he knew it because he had been interested in it since he was young and had learned it since he was young. It was a consideration for Ayun.
“Jimin, will you come again tomorrow?”
"of course."
Ayun chuckled at Jimin's answer, "Of course." It was the first adorable smile she'd seen since being admitted to the hospital. Jimin felt a pang of excitement in his chest. Then he thought, "Maybe I've misunderstood Ayun." As Ayun's feelings for Jimin gradually began to reach him, Ayun found herself looking at the world with a foolish gaze.
It was that evening. Normally, when I wake up and move around during the hours I should be sleeping, I look around or pay close attention, but Ayun didn't. Whether I got caught or not didn't matter. Ayun simply didn't think about anything. She found herself unconsciously heading toward the empty bathroom. Arriving in the freshly cleaned, pleasantly fragrant bathroom, Ayun entered a stall and locked the door. Then, she pulled out the knife she'd used to peel the fruit she'd brought from her back pocket. Ayun stared at it for a long time. Her breathing became ragged. A slight sense of tension. And fear. Ayun held the knife to her wrist with her eyes open. After that, she couldn't remember. Perhaps she'd slashed frantically, or perhaps she'd slashed timidly, out of fear. When she came to, the floor was already soaked with crimson blood, and her clothes were turning crimson as well. Even then, Ayun's breathing was fading. Ayun, lost in her sanity, watched the white floor become stained with crimson blood and thought. The white keys her hands had touched must have been stained with crimson blood long ago.