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Christine's Song

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They lived in a world of silence, unexposed to the joyful sounds of life. Harmonies and melodies were unknown to man—not even the birds sang their sweet springtime ballad. No painful cry or cheery laugh was uttered. They could talk, of course, as any man should, but they all possessed the same voice: hollow, vacant, emotionless.

Christine was born into a family that indulged in the art of music in the secrecy of their home, sheltered from the darkness of society. Her mother had a music box from the old times—an heirloom that was passed down and kept away for no other eyes to see. Christine was always fascinated by the sweet melody that would play whenever she opened the majestic little box. She pleaded her mother to sing the song every moment of every day. Christine’s childhood revolved around music, something she loved dearly but, because of society’s rules, could not return the love. So she held on to her secrets with all of her strength and hid her passion in the shadows.

When Christine reached the age of sixteen, tragedy struck her life. Her beloved mother, her only companion, had passed away leaving her alone and hopeless. Christine was obviously heartbroken, but she wanted to be strong. So she made a promise to her dear deceased mother that she would never give up on music and that she would make her proud.

In the time being, Christine found herself constantly singing her mother’s tune. It was like an artifact from her childhood, a memory from the past, always drowning her with rich nostalgia. She sang it when she was lonely or afraid. She sang it in good times and in bad. With every note, she was reminded of her mother and eased from the pain. It was an addiction, as if she had made her dwelling in the enchanting melody, and it had become a part of her.

One day, Christine was walking in the town square—a place far from peaceful, heavily guarded with Law Force Squads. She was running her daily errands in the square when she saw a little boy on the side of the street who clearly appeared to be frightened. He sat in silence, trembling as tears rolled down his little face. Christine approached the child sweetly, comforting him and asking him what was wrong. Shocked by such a kind action, he told her that his mother had been taken away by Law Force and he had nowhere to return to. Christine knew the feeling and could only think of one way to soothe the little boy, even though it was potentially fatal. She gathered him in her arms and started singing the music box melody. The boy was instantly pacified and took refuge in her arms, pleading her to sing the song again and again.

Shortly after, an officer angrily approached her, demanding an explanation for this so-called crime. But before she could even speak a word in her own defense, the man grabbed her and handcuffed her, cursing and vowing to make sure she would be imprisoned until the day she died.

Jail was cold, wet, and miserable. Cells were perfectly aligned on every wall, containing the sad faces of lonely people. Christine couldn’t take her eyes off of her inmate’s face, an image so familiar that seemed to be engrained in her mind. It didn’t take her long to realize she was probably the little boy from the square’s mother. They had the same petite frame, big eyes, nervous tremble and innocent face that only a monster could find fault in. Christine wanted so badly to relieve this poor mother from imprisonment, and she only had one strategy that has kept her alive this far.

She opened her mouth and suddenly the melody conquered the concrete walls, fearlessly floating around. Everyone peered Christine’s way, not knowing what to make of this foreign, yet comforting sound. Suddenly, another voice joined Christine, mimicking the song like a bird. She turned to see the little boy’s mother looking into her eyes, letting her know she would not stand alone. Soon enough, more voices joined her, new ones emerging with every note. It was the voices of angry people in chorus coming together to sing a beautiful song in hopes of freedom.

Suddenly, a pack of grungy guards came in with guns, but the prisoners were fearless and sang louder in unison. The guards threatened to shoot, but the chorus knew that they could overthrow these heartless men. Furious, the guards could not take it anymore and raised their guns at the singing prisoners. The first bullet went straight through Christine’s heart like a ball of fire as she fearlessly sang her nostalgic song, and the captivating tune made its last mark as it echoed through the walls, slowly fading into silence.





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