Chapter one: The saddest song of them all

Daddy doesn’t love my brother.
I’ve known this from an early age. I was eight, maybe nine when I noticed the coldness in his eyes whenever he looked at him.
But even as I know this, I don’t understand why.
He’s special after all, mommy tells us so.
‘Hold your brother’s hand.’ She says. ‘So he will know you’re there.’ and ‘Talk to him, make sure you greet him whenever you enter the room.’
Because he’s special.
Because he cannot see you.

I wake up in the dark.
At first, I’m not quite sure what woke me.
But as my head comes back from the land of dreams I hear them.
Screaming, yelling, pulling the same circus they’ve pulled countless times before.
“He’s a weakling and he’ll never grow strong as long as you shelter him!”
“He’s an invalid! It’s our job to take care of him.”
“It’s our job to be a productive member of society but he’ll never be that, he’ll just be a burden for his entire life like this. Is that what you want?”
“His piano is getting-”
“Piano doesn’t bring food on the table.”
It’s the same argument over and over again.
Our parents never do it in front of us, always in the dark when they think we cannot hear them.
But then in between the yelling I hear a different sound, a small sound.
A sad sound.
“George?”
The sound stops.
“George, are you awake?”
There’s the sounds of a sniffle and then a very soft “Donna?”
“Hold on, I’m coming to your bed.” I kick off my blankets and shiver at the cold. Then stick my bare feet over the edge of the bed and touch down carefully, trying my best not to set off any creaking floorboards.
Daddy and mommy won’t be happy if they find out we’re awake.
I cross the room quietly as a mouse, then reach my hand towards him.
I bump my fingers into his shoulder. “Ah, there you are. Scoot.”
He makes room for me and I crawl into his bed, hugging him tightly.
“It’s not your fault you know.”
He doesn’t respond but squeezes me against himself.
I can feel the tightness in his heart, I can feel how big his sadness is and the guilt he carries.
“Do you want me to sing?” I offer.
In between his soft sobs, he lets out a “huh-huh”.
I open my mouth and sing softly, but deliberately.

You’re good enough the way you are.
You have nothing to prove.
If daddy keeps on being mean.
I think he has to move.
Stay away from you and me.
And our lives would be improve-d.

I hear a soft chuckle from my brother and the arms around me squeeze me tight. “Thank you,” he tells me with a sob.
“Always.” I kiss him on the forehead and stay with him until the sky starts growing brighter.
But the moment I mention the rising sun he shoos me to my bed to sleep at least a few hours.
Enough to face the day.

No one talks about it the next morning.
Daddy eats his breakfast, head stuck in the newspaper and grumbling about what the world is coming to.
“They built an underwater train to Sollertia.” he scoffs and I can feel he’s waiting for a reaction.
“That’s…inventive?” mother tries carefully.
“It’s a ridiculous waste of taxpayer money, they’ve always sent boats up and down and I don’t see why they’d need this”
No one challenges him on it, no one dares to, I imagine.
I certainly don’t.
I eat my food in silence while stealing glances at my twin.
I feel his pain and his sorrow, even if he won’t show it on his face.
After breakfast father leaves for his job at the clothing factory and the household sighs in relief.
I pull George aside and we read tense stories with pirates and werewolves until mother scolds me for neglecting my chores.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell him as I pull my hand away from his.
“That’s all right, I’ll play the piano.”
“That would be wonderful.”
George plays very well even if our father won’t admit it out of pride.
Playing the piano is mother’s talent but one day George asked her ‘Can I try’ and something instantly clicked between him and the instrument.
What started as a bit of a clunky mess quickly turned into simple songs that to this day grow prettier and prettier.
Mother tells me The Good One has touched him and blessed him with musical talent.
That must be so nice.
When it came down to my singing I just had to work every day to get where I am.
But on the other hand, The Bad One took my brother’s sight at birth, so maybe this is the way for The Good One to compensate for that.
The Good One blesses us with life and a purpose while The Bad One curses us with death and the temptations that try to have us stray from our path.
It’s a simple system, if something good happens to you, you thank The Good One, if something bad happens, you blame The Bad One.
So it’s the Bad One’s fault that George is blind, and that father is angry all the time and that mother makes me do all the chores while George gets to play piano-
Wait.
That’s not nice of me, I cannot think like that.
I love my brother and my mother.
So I just do my chores and don’t complain.
And then all will be well in the end.
Right?

---

Mommy and daddy are shouting and one another but it’s daytime now.
I don’t understand why this is happening.
All I know is I’m afraid.
George and I are huddled together on the couch crying as they fight and scream at one another. “You have a son, he is blind. Just accept it already!”
“I accepted it! I give him food and pay for his upkeep, don’t I? But I’m not telling the lads at work about him and I’m not going to shout it from the rooftops.”
“You can’t hide him in here forever!”
“Why not? He’s not gonna work, he’s not gonna be any useful part of society, he might as well be dead!”
“You take that back!”
He scoffs ” I should have just twisted that baby’s neck the moment I realised he can’t-!”
My heart jumps, my breath stuck in my throat as mommy pulls away her hand, leaving a red print on daddy’s cheek. Her eyes are red with tears and terrified as she covers her mouth “I’m sorry I- I didn’t mean to I just got so angry I-“
She screams as he grabs her hair in his fist.
I cover George’s ears to drown out the fight as I squeeze my eyes shut.
Then heavy footsteps trudge towards us “We’re leaving” daddy announces as he grabs my upper arm.
I scream and try to pull away. George grips my shoulders, I can feel his panic rush into me like spikes.
He’s scared.
I’m scared.
Mommy is trying to get up again, her nose is bleeding. “No, no please Sebastian, it’s my fault, not hers, I’ll behave I promise I-“
“Quiet!” he pulls on my arm, George’s grip on my shoulder tightens even more. His fingers turn pale at the grip.
It hurts, but not as much as the tightness in my chest.
“Let go, George.” Daddy order.
“No!”
“Dora, tell him to let go, unless you want me to make him.”
I look at mommy with terror in my eyes “Mommy?”
Her eyes avoid mine as her tear stained words fill me with dread. “George, please let go of your sister.”
“Donna?”
“Please don’t let go George I beg of you-” I plead but then daddy hits George onto his head and drags me up from the couch.
My legs are shaking. I try to reach mother pleading and sobbing “Mommy please.” I cry out “Please keep me.” Fight for me like you fight for him.
Her eyes don’t meet mine as she says “I’m sorry sweetie.”
She walks towards the couch. I look back at George, he’s gone quiet. His knees are drawn up, his head against his knees and covering his ears.
Mommy sits down next to him.
Daddy drags me along but doesn’t say a word.
There’s nothing left to say.
I pack my bags in tears.
My life falling into ruins to the song of overwhelming silence.
The saddest song of them all.
By the time I open my mouth again, I’m already in the carriage ready to take up away.
I call his name.
George’s name.
To let him know that I’m here.
Again and again.
Until I’m not anymore.
And I just weep silently.