When I was younger, I grew up in a town where no one will remember your name or even acknowledge your very existence. That town, is somewhere near Busan, South Korea. The way that this story starts, is very depressing, actually. When I was a baby, my mother left my brothers, father, and I. This lead to my family and I living in complete difficulties throughout the 12 years I have lived in Korea. As I remember the stuff that has happened to me throughout the years, I will say, I thought the experience was hellish, as I called it, "hell."
I was diagnosed with lung complications ever since I was a baby and my older brother had the similar condition to mine. I have to wear a surgical mask whenever I stepped outside. I never really went to school, but I was "homeschooled." As in, I studied and read by myself, as my father was busy working 12-hour shifts every week. My younger brother was mildly autistic and there's not really anything that we could do about it, as the doctors gave us medication for us to give to him. For some weird reason, a lot people think there is nothing wrong with him, but I never thought that, because between my older brother and I, we had to pay attention to him, almost all the time. Non-stop, if you will.
As for my father, he has a similar condition to my older brother and I. He has lung cancer, as he smoked cigarettes for the 12 years that I've known him. You must be thinking, "How old are you?" or "What do you mean by 'the twelve years that you've known him?'" Well, I get to that later. For now, you guys are really ruining the beginning. Jeez.
Anyways, all of this to say, I had an insatiable love for writing. When I was studying by myself as a child, I kept a book where I wrote many of my writings. Like a journal, I suppose. My older brother would categorize me as Alexander Hamilton, as he "wrote like he was running out of time." I wasn't aspiring to be like Alexander Hamilton, as he was an amazing founding father, but I would do anything like he did to his wife, when he published the infamous The Reynolds Pamphlet. I wrote about my living conditions with my family, a story of my life so far, and my poems. I'll keep that journal to help me to survive. My father bought me that journal for my fifth birthday. I didn't know that to do with it at first, then my older brother told me to write my little heart out. I read a lot, too. I read many old Korean folklore and then that lead to modern Korean literature. I read, wrote, and drew pictures. I just enjoyed writing and reading, it was sort of like an addiction, but a good addiction, I guess.
Here's where the shitty part happens. I was twelve years old when these particular events happened. My family and I had gotten really sick, some sort of flu epidemic during flu season that occured. This is probably one of the worst flu seasons that have happened in my life. Especially with my lung condition, it didn't make it any better. I was laying in my bed, as well as my the rest of my family, the scent of our lingering sickness. I hugged my father and the next thing I knew, he breathed his last breath out of this this miserable world. He died. I was only twelve, mind you. My mother possibly died, too, but I don't know. My brothers and I are now orphans. It's my older brother and my duty to take care of our mildly autistic brother.
As the months passed by after my father's death, my older brother's sickness became worse, in addition to his lung condition getting in the way, again, it doesn't help. I was in charge of getting food with the money that my older brother made at his little job before his condition worsened. Long story short, my beloved older brother, died a couple of weeks later. That leaves my little brother and I. Throughout the little time that I had left with him, I took really good care of him. How my brother dies, is probably the most saddest death I could have witnessed. I was fourteen now, it was winter and we went to Seoul, we were at a ice rink where it was publicly fine to play in the snow and the ice. I had to use the bathroom, but there were no apparent bathrooms around the rink, as I had no other choice to pee somewhere in the bushes. I told him specifically that I had to pee and that I would be right back. I did my thing and as I returned, I can see that a dog that came out of nowhere, pushed my brother onto the thin ice and the ice broke with the weight that was put onto it. He fell into the water. I tried to save him, but it was too late. Help got here late and he was pronounced dead. The deaths of your own family, you can never get over them for as long as you live. Why not me? Why couldn't I be the one that died? My brothers and father don't deserve death. It's my fault, right?
I wrote all of my experiences of their deaths onto my journal. It was all terrible. As I got older, especially at the age of sixteen, I continued to study more and more of the college entrance exams in Seoul. I want to get into a good university there or maybe somewhere in the United States. The United States? How the hell did that came up? Well, I thought that if I travel to California, I could be a exchange student. I know, I know, I have to check the availability and whatnot. But, all I'm saying is that, hopefully I could escape this hellhole that I lived all of my life and start a new one in a new country. "In New York, you can be a new man…" those lyrics kind of remind me of my situation, not that I'm going to NYC.
Just you wait, I'm going to write my way out. That's one of the only good things I am very capable of doing. I woke up in my apartment and got dressed to take the exams to go into the exchange student program. One of the prompts for the writing portion included a background of you and your past. I am probably going to write the most depressing one, but whatever. One week later, I get the test results back. I passed. I'm eligible to go to the United States! There was a letter attached, it read, "Please meet us tomorrow morning back at the testing center to get what city/town in the United States you're going to be placed." It was from the test center. I was really happy. I never really thought that I would pass this test, but I was really grateful. For years, I taught myself English. Now, this is it.
The next morning, I went to the testing center and they gave me my end result and a brief description of where I was placed. "South Park, Colorado, U.S.A" it read.
The lady told me, "It's a small, quiet, mountain town in Colorado. I heard that some Koreans live there."
"Ma'am, will I be able to live in a apartment there?" I asked her, since I had an apartment here.
She looked at me, "Well, yes, just make sure to find a job there. Those American apartments are much more expensive that you think."
I nodded and looked down on my paper, "Am I going to leave tomorrow, or?"
"Yes, you are leaving first thing tomorrow morning. Your flight leaves at 9:00am. You will go to the Incheon International Airport. Hopefully you'll enjoy the United States." She told me the instructions as she gave me my plane ticket. I nodded and thanked her, I felt tears coming out of my eyes, tears of joy. I left the building to see what's going to be in store for me. When I got home, I packed my bags for the big move to South Park, Colorado. The morning of, I headed to the airport at 6:00am to check in and go through security, and by the time I got through security, it was already 7:10, just less than two hours of the flight. I bought some breakfast at the airport and took my medication. I had to carry my oxygen tank, wear my surgical mask, and carry on a bag that had my phone and other necessities.
I looked at the time and it read, 8:45. Almost time to board the plane. I saw that the plane was starting to board and I went in line to give them my boarding pass. I got closer and they scanned my boarding pass and the flight attendant said, "Thank you, have a great flight!" as I enter the plane that was American bound. I look outside the plane window and think of what possibilities are going to bring me at the start of a new life.