Haunting Melodies, Reopened Wounds

That night, the Alistair siblings sat in a small café with an intimate atmosphere, illuminated by dim, twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling. The air was filled with the aroma of coffee and toasted bread. They sat at a long table near the stage, hoping for a lighthearted evening after a long, exhausting day.

Madison lazily stirred her latte, while Davis tapped his fingers on the table, following the slow rhythm of the background music. Victoria was busy checking her phone notifications until Rebecca gently scolded her. Sadie and Corina simply took in the atmosphere, occasionally making small comments.

The mood shifted when the next performer stepped onto the stage.

A woman with brown hair and a guitar on her lap introduced herself, her voice soft yet clear.

"I'm Lia Johnson, and this is a song I wrote about my childhood. Maybe some of you will understand the feelings in it. This is 'DNA.'"

The sound of the guitar filled the room, and as Lia's voice resonated through the space, all six siblings tensed.

"Dark as midnight

Six-pack Coors Light

You don't look the same"

Davis held his breath. Memories of their father, Edward, stumbling home drunk in the middle of the night made his heart pound with unease.

"Past my bedtime

Blue and red lights

Come take you away"

Sadie clenched her fists. She remembered the nights when police sirens wailed in the distance, hoping someone would come to save them from the hell they called home.

"Hate to see you like a monster

So I run and hide"

Madison gripped her spoon, feeling like a child again, hiding under the kitchen table, covering her ears tightly every time the house echoed with screams.

"Hate to ask, but what's it like to leave me behind?"

Rebecca swallowed hard. She could still feel the cold marble floor beneath her feet as she sat in the corner, trying to stay calm while their father walked away without ever looking back.

As the song continued, none of them spoke. Each lyric felt like a hammer striking their chests, forcing them to remember what they had buried deep inside.

"Eyes like yours can't look away

But you can't stop DNA"

Victoria stared blankly at the stage. Her vision blurred, but she didn't cry. Not in public.

"Are the pieces of you

In the pieces of me?

I'm just so scared

You're who I'll be"

Corina bit her lip. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Edward's blood still ran through her veins.

When the song ended, there was a brief silence before the café erupted in applause. But the six Alistair siblings didn't clap. They exchanged glances, searching for answers in each other's eyes. But no one spoke.

Without a word, Rebecca placed some bills on the table and signaled the others to leave. They walked out in silence, letting the night air wrap around them.

No one spoke in the car. The silence was suffocating. Sadie fought back tears. Corina bit her lip. Davis clenched his fists, as if itching to punch something. Madison just stared out the window, watching the rain. Victoria sat in the front seat but didn't play any music like she usually did. Rebecca drove with a tense expression.

They arrived home in silence. No one turned on the main lights, leaving only the small lamps casting faint glows.

Victoria took off her heels and sank into the couch, massaging her temples. A migraine was already creeping in—a sharp, relentless pounding, as if a hammer was slamming against her skull. The room's lighting felt too bright, and even the sound of footsteps was painful to her ears. She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing, but the pain only intensified. This wasn't just a regular headache—it was the kind of severe migraine that struck whenever she overthought or felt overwhelmed.

Rebecca went to her room and sat at the edge of her bed. She gripped her calf tightly, but it wasn't enough to relieve the muscle cramps that were creeping in. Her fibromyalgia was a silent enemy, wrapping around her muscles like barbed wire. These cramps weren't ordinary fatigue—they were deep, electric waves of pain spreading through her body. Tonight, after hearing that song, her body felt even heavier, as if the weight of the past was pressing down on her again.

Madison groaned softly as she reached for her stomach medication from the drawer. She sat on the floor with her knees drawn up, closing her eyes, waiting for the burning sensation to subside. Her bulimia had caused chronic stomach ulcers, and whenever she was stressed, the pain intensified. It felt like fire consuming her from the inside, making it difficult to take deep breaths. She pressed a trembling hand to her stomach, hoping the pain would fade soon, but she knew it would take time before it finally dulled.

Davis collapsed onto his bed, pressing his fingers hard against his temples. The pounding in his head was unbearable, making the world spin. His bipolar disorder often made his body react violently to stress. His hypertension only worsened it, sending his blood racing too fast through his veins. His head felt like it was going to explode. He shut his eyes, trying to steady himself, but the echoes of the concert's guitar riffs still rang in his ears, making the dizziness even worse.

Sadie turned on her desk lamp, but the light only made her dizziness worse. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the vertigo that made her feel like she was falling. This wasn't just simple dizziness—it was like the entire world was tilting, like the ground beneath her was slipping away. Nausea churned in her stomach, and she gripped the edge of the table, holding on tightly to keep from collapsing.

Corina walked slowly to her room, but her steps halted as her chest tightened. Her breathing grew ragged, and with trembling hands, she reached for the inhaler on her nightstand, taking a deep breath. Her bronchial asthma had flared up suddenly, like chains constricting her lungs, refusing to let go. She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to breathe slowly, letting the medication take effect. The tightness in her chest began to ease, but her body still felt weak, as if she had just escaped drowning.

That night, there were no conversations.

No one talked about the concert.

No one mentioned Edward's name.

There was only them, each battling the old wounds that had been ripped open once again.