" ONE FAMILY,A THOUSAND SCARS ''

PAINFUL WOUND

After that, the ambulance took SARIFAH away at high speed.

MIA ran as fast as she could, but her legs were too small; her steps were too short. A nurse gently held her shoulders and led her to a cold and quiet waiting room.

MIA sat there alone. Her body was stiff. Her eyes were empty. She didn't cry anymore and was just silent, as if her whole world had suddenly stopped spinning. One by one, the family arrived.

His father, RAYAN, rushed in with a pale face. MIKKO, MAKKI, MARCHO, MIKKA, and MAST followed behind. Their faces were tense, their breathing heavy.

Then the doctor came out.

No one said a word. But from the doctor's face, everyone knew.

RAYAN fell to his knees. His hands were hugging his own face. His shoulders were shaking.

His sons stood stiff as statues, their eyes red, their jaws locked tightly.

Then MIA stepped in.

"Brother..." she called softly. Her eyes searched for MIKKO. "Where is Mom? Are you okay?"

MIKKO didn't answer. She just looked at the floor.

"Brother..." MIA pulled MIKKO's arm. "Mom is okay, right? Mom is okay, Brother?"

MIKKO raised his face. His eyes were red and watery. His breathing was labored.

"Mom is gone, MIA."

MIA frowned. “What do you mean, brother, that your mother is gone?

Suddenly, MIKKO screamed.

“MOM IS DEAD! Do you hear me?! MOM IS DEAD!”

MAKKI and MARCHO immediately grabbed MIKKO’s shoulders from both sides. “MIKKO! MIKKO, that’s enough.”

MIA didn’t move.

Her hands slowly rose to her head, her fingers gripping her own hair.

“No…” she whispered. “No… MIA can’t believe it…”

The small, always brave face looked shattered. Her eyes were empty as if the light had gone out in an instant.

“Why did you leave MIA… no… no…”

Her cries were not the cries of a whining child, but the cries of someone who had just lost their entire world.

The days that followed became dark.

One by one, words that shouldn’t have been said were spoken.

“All this happened because of you.”

Those were the words of RAYAN, his own father, to MIA, who was only eight years old.

RAYAN turned and left MIA there without looking back.

Then MIKKO. The eldest brother, who had been MIA's refuge for so long.

"It's all your fault, MIA."

One by one, they left. MAKKI. MARCHO. MIKKA.

Only MAST, who was two years older than him, stopped for a moment. His eyes looked at MIA, who was standing alone. Something trembled in his chest.

But he also turned. And left.

MIA stood alone in the cold hospital corridor.

Tears flowed from her eyes, but no one saw.

Everything changed.

When leaving for school, her brothers got into the car without looking back. MIA stood on the side of the road, her bag on her back, watching the car go away.

She walked to school alone.

At school, ZIA saw the opportunity. MIA, who used to dare to fight, now just kept quiet, her eyes empty, her heart too tired to fight. ZIA laughed. Her friends laughed too.

Her brothers saw it. They saw their sister being oppressed before their own eyes.

They turned away.

That night, at the dining table, food was served in full.

MIA sat at the end of the table slowly. Her stomach had been hungry since morning.

“You go wash the dishes in the kitchen.”

The voice came from MAKKI. She didn’t even look at MIA when she said that.

MIA got up. She went to the kitchen without saying a word.

MAST, who was sitting at the far end, watched her sister from afar. Something in her heart hurt. But the hatred was stronger than pity.

She ate her food and didn’t move.

After washing the dishes, MIA returned to the table. There was still leftover food. Her stomach rumbled softly.

Her hand almost touched the plate

“Are you hungry?”

MIKKO stood in front of her. His eyes were cold.

MIA nodded slowly.

MIKKO took the leftover food. Slowly and deliberately, he poured it into their dog food container on the floor.

“You’re hungry, right? Eat it.”

He left MIA standing there.

MIA looked at the dog food container for a long time.

Then he picked it up. He walked to the back of the house, sat in a dark corner, and ate while crying silently.

A week later, the scholarship letter arrived.

MIA read it over and over again, in disbelief. A music scholarship. Her name was chosen.

For the first time since Mom left, something ignited in her chest again.

She ran to her father's room.

"Dad... MIA got a music scholarship. MIA was chosen, Dad."

RAYAN took the letter. His eyes swept over its contents briefly.

Then he crumpled it up.

The paper fell to the floor with a thud.

MIA looked down. Tears were about to spill out of her eyes, but she held them back.

"You don't have to study anymore," RAYAN said in a voice as flat and sharp as a knife.

"But Dad"

"Just give up." Rayan looked at him with emotionless eyes. "If you want to stay in this house, don't make me do something impossible."

MIA didn't blink.

Her tears flowed slowly, one by one, as she continued to look at her father. Waiting. Hoping that something would change on that face.

RAYAN turned away.

MIA cried in front of her father, a suppressed cry that sounded low, like someone trying to be strong but couldn't anymore.

That night, MIA came out with her guitar.

She sat on the back steps of the house, her fingers plucking the guitar strings gently. Only music. Only this was left.

“HEY!”

RAYAN rushed out. At her side, MAKKI and MARCHO stood watching.

“Dad,” MIA stood, tears flowing immediately.

Rayan rushed towards him and pulled his hand hard.

“It hurts, Dad! It hurts!”

No one moved.

“I shouldn't have a child like you!”

The words hit MIA harder than any hand could.

RAYAN snatched the guitar from her hand and threw it at MIA's feet with all his might.

Crack.

The guitar shattered.

MIA screamed in pain, falling to the floor, both hands gripping her legs. Her screams gradually weakened, turning into sobs, then silence.

“Get out of this house,” RAYAN said in a calm and cold voice. “This is not your house. This family is not your family. You are not my child.”

He went inside the house.

The door closed.

MIA lay on the floor, alone, among the pieces of the guitar that had once been her dream, a gift from her mother who had passed away.

The brothers returned from school that afternoon.

They saw MIA on the floor. The broken guitar. Wood splinters scattered.

MAKKI walked inside without saying anything.

MIKKO did not look back.

The twins MAKKI and MARCHO, looked at each other for a moment, then continued walking.

Only MAST stopped.

He knelt by MIA’s side. His hand gently touched his younger brother’s shoulder.

MIA winced in pain.

MAST took a deep breath. Without saying anything, he took out his phone and dialed a number.

“Grandma SAFIAH… please come. Hurry.”

Grandma SAFIAH arrived in a hurry.

Behind him was a man named ZADI, an old friend of SAFIAH who was quiet but trustworthy.

When SAFIAH saw MIA, her little granddaughter, lying with an injured leg and a pale face, her eyes immediately turned red.

She turned to RAYAN, who was standing at the door.

“That’s your child. How dare you do this?” Her voice trembled with anger. “If you don’t want this child, let me take care of her!”

RAYAN was silent. Her eyes looked the other way.

ZADI wasted no time. He knelt by MIA’s side, his hands examining the little girl’s leg carefully. His face showed no emotion, but his eyes hid something heavy.

“Her leg needs long-term treatment,” ZADI told SAFIAH in a low voice. “If you take her to the hospital, there are risks. But if you use traditional methods… it will be very painful for her who is small. And it will take three years to fully recover.”

SAFIAH bit her lip. Tears fell.

"I believe in you, ZADI. You are the only one who can save my grandson."

ZADI looked at MIA again.

MIA looked back, her small eyes were calm, not pleading, not crying. Just looking.

ZADI nodded slowly.