God Idol Project: Hope

Please sing a song

※ All the names, troops, and characters in the work are fictional creations.

'It's a good day to live.'
Mumbling like that to myself, I left the main entrance of the hospital. In an instant, I frowned at the sunlight coming in and made a handshade.
Since birth, there has been no surprising change in regular checkups that come back like a holiday.
"Of course, that's right."
As expected, I could not give up a glimmer of hope. If there was only one thing I wanted in my life, it was a normal voice.
I was born with a vocal cord deformity.
My parents were not happy when I burst out crying for the first time. When the doctor heard the cry, he hurriedly showed me to the pediatrician with an intuition that something was wrong.
I was diagnosed with a congenital vocal cord deformity. It was fortunate that there was no pain, but the baby's vocal cords were fragile, so the surgery was impossible.
What was the pain of my parents having to hear the creepy devil cry. What if it was my son?
How ironic is it that I burst into tears of fear at the sound of my own crying.
It's so natural to be a mute child.
Is it worth the price of losing my voice.
With a devil's voice, I was born with ears that ironically coveted the beauty of sound more than anyone else.
Because of the noise from my throat, I had no choice but to be buried in the ecstatic classical melody. And as the years went by, I became a severe omnivorous music addict.
But one day surgery gave me the possibility that my voice might improve. Despite my parents' concerns, I recklessly forced myself to get a surgery.
I was so excited and happy after my recovery, until I checked the results of my surgery.
Is it because of high expectations,
the result was disastrously disappointing. Objectively, it was softer than before, but everyone still had no choice but to feel instinctive fear.
My voice was the murky, unpleasant sound of breathing, mixed with lower notes and irregular iron sounds than the average adult male.
Another problem was that the sound of defrosting was mixed so that it was difficult to accurately distinguish the pronunciation.
The voice of hell from the neck of a child who just entered elementary school. It was enough to cause a sense of separation.
Even the doctors and nurses who were there couldn't close their mouths off, so what should I say.
Even those who have experienced my voice could not hide their bodys' reaction responding to my horrifying sound.
'Oh, I should live without a voice.'
That's what I realized then.
People born with disabilities also live. But what am I to say.
It's uncomfortable, but it's not like life's at stake. That's how it comforted me.
Perhaps I have naturally learned that there are things I have to give up in my life.
After that, I became a voluntary mute. I began to replace my voice with a musical instrument in earnest.
My parents tried to teach me how to force myself to speak out. What do you mean practice speaking by listening to my horrible voice every time?
I don't lose to anyone with stubbornness, but I couldn't stand the love of my mother, who wrote down the reasons for practicing how to speak, and my father, who made tearful appeals one by one.
I accepted my parents' persuasion on the condition that I would practice alone in my room. I often ran out of the room without being able to endure noise pollution that lasted for only 10 minutes every day.
Thanks to my parents' persistent efforts, I was able to make sounds that I could somehow understand the pronunciation. I no longer hate my own voice. It's probably because I'm used to it. I still hate it, but I can't take it off....
Today, I couldn't give up any expectations and visited the hospital like an annual event, but I think it's time to give up the regret.
It's time to stop begging for miracles.
Taking off the headphones around my neck, I smiled bitterly. I wanted to hear a beautiful sound.No, as long as it's not my voice.
With a bitterness, I was heading to the crossing in front of the hospital, collecting my violin case on my shoulder, and I hurried my steps when I saw the green light.
"?!"
Through the song of the headset, a screaming call struck me, and my arm was pulled strongly. At the same time as the leg shook greatly in the direction of the body being dragged, the violin case strap went down on the shoulder and dangled as if to touch the floor.
"Ugh...."
I calmed my astonishment and stood up straight. I saw a young man who caught me in the middle of the crosswalk.
The motorcycle, which had been running in defiance of the signal, quickly disappeared with only its tail behind it.
This man saved me.
Was the visit to the hospital distracted me because I felt dizzy? Was the song on my headphones fascinated me.
Whatever the reason, I know I almost got into a car accident just now.
When I took off my headset, the man led me to the other side of the crosswalk.
I was taken away by surprise, so I make sure there are no injuries here and there.
"Are you okay? I think you're coming out of the hospital, but now you almost went back to the hospital."
That's what I'm saying.
I bowed my head deeply to express my appreciation.
Usually, people say thank you and end it, but in my case, I tend to give material compensation instead of thanking with words.
Looking at the time, it's exactly lunch time.
I suddenly grabbed the stranger's sleeve and pointed to the nearby Seolleongtang restaurant.
It's a good thing there's a restaurant nearby. If the situation hadn't been easy, I would have had to give him a bunch of instant food from the convenience store.
"Huh? You want to go eat? Are you going to buy me something?"
Nodding, the man laughed but was dragged by me quietly to the restaurant.