Prologue: A Tragic Life
Looking up on the sky, I remember the day that my father taught me how to dream and make a wish to a star. I remember when he used to tease me every time. I said that I was afraid of riding an airplane for i hate heights. But it hurts when I look up at the sky and remember when the war started and my father was one of the pilots bombing the enemies below.
I was proud of him that time and I said to myself that i want to be like him. Soaring up there and bravely fighting those intruders of our land. But I felt my world started to end when I look up and saw that his plane was hit by a bomb from an enemy and it fell and when it crashed to the ground, i didn't hear the explosion but what I heard was my own hysterical cry.
From the day I set my eyes upon the dark sky which had flames and black smoke, I swore to myself that I will continue my father's dream and that is to be someone who can stand on his own feet and the one who build his own wings to fly and reach my aspirations.
This day I went to the lake where my family spent time together. I look on the clear and silent water and I remembered the gentlest face of a very loving and kind person-it was the face of my mother.
Just after my father died we move to another country and lived there. I was just little and I also have a big brother. It was winter and I'm twelve years old, we were just playing on the snow. Our house was beside a lake which was half frozen. My mother was watching us when the chilly wind blows away her hat beside the lake. She went to pick it up when brother and I heard a very terrible sound that was obviously a gunshot. I turned to my mother's direction but what I saw was not the bed of pure white snow but a crimson pool of blood and a figure lying on the ground.
I know was my mother. I can't bear the pain. the person who shot was wearing a mask and he walked to our direction. i want to run but I can't move a muscle as if strength had escaped from my legs and left me vulnerable. He grabbed my brother and with that I instantly pull my elder brother toward me and I felt so hot-warm tears are pouring from both eyes. Something hit my head and everything was a blur. The last thing I saw was my brother struggling for freedom from the murderer's tight grip.
Life is unfair, I now know. And it was, is, and will never fair. My life is tragic. From the day I lost both my mother and brother, I started to become cold. I felt nothing except from deep hidden hatred for the person who is responsible for losing my only family.
I want to become strong. I want to fight for justice. And I know it is a very hard path but I know it is NOT impossible.