Prologue

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I never understood how musicians made the words that come out of their mouth so musical. It seemed almost like a different language, but yet we could understand every single thing they were saying. When I felt the wind, I could hear the music notes harmonizing and bringing me back to the same feeling I had all over again when I heard music. I never felt the feeling of music, until I wasn't allowed to feel it anymore. At least, not freely. 

When people hear the rules Appa has made for me they look at me with pity surrounding their eyes. The truth is, he wasn't always like this. He had a love for music. It was a connection, he loved it even more than me. I remember the look in his eyes when he heard music. It lit up almost instantly when hearing the sweet melody. It was a drug we were both addicted to, except it wasn't illegal. Omma even took a few pictures of him singing me to sleep when I was tiny. 

I know Omma and Appa loved each other. Whenever they saw each other they had this look in their eyes. Some days they would stand there for the longest amount of time, hugging and staring at each other. I love you. I love you. I will always love you. When we die in this life, we will be sure to catch each other in the next. I always longed for that kind of love. The kind of love that makes you happy. Omma told me that when she fell deeply in love with appa, it felt as though she couldn't function properly without him. Appa told me that when he met omma, he knew that she was the one. She was the one he wanted to be with, no matter how many times everyone told them it wouldn't work. 

I think that's why he was affected by her death more than me. He would yell at me, then go out every night. He would bring beer bottles every single night, only to throw them at me. I got scared. Sometimes I thought I was living with a stranger. In some ways it felt as though I had lost Appa, and I was alone. It wasn't until he got fired that he sobered up. Some might think this was the happy ending, but it wasn't. Appa started enforcing rules, rules that I never thought he could make. No music, no laughing, no smiling, no going over to friends' houses, no inviting them over, no TV, no happiness, and absolutely no love. I remember going into my room going to my room after that and crying into my pillow.

After omma died I found comfort in a band called BTS. Something about the way their songs felt made me feel somewhat okay. I felt like a blanket was being wrapped around me tightly and I could feel myself feeling safe and secure. It was a blanket of comfort. Then, appa banned music. I was forced into listening to it in private. Hiding every possible of me listening to them. If appa ever found out, I would be doomed. Maybe even kicked out of the house. He made sure to be specific on the consequences. 

Sometimes I wish I were someone else. Someone that wasn't banned from listening to music. Without music, I am sick. I am placed into this painful sickness, and the only way to heal myself is music. How can I keep going if the one thing keeping me alive is one of the things I am banned from listening? 


So this is my first time ever writing a fanfiction. It's kind of thrilling, but nerve-wrecking at the same time. This story is probably really bad, but hey what else can you do? Anyways, I'm excited to start writing my first fanfiction and sharing it with y'all. If you don't know, "appa" means dad in korean and "omma" means mom in korean. Just in case some people were confused with the use of "appa" and "omma."

Stay amazing as always, ODonut.*

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