SUM: Prologue

The iron that never breaks, or the fortress no one could pass—that’s what I want to be.
However, despite my eagerness, on 20 October 2017, I, pretty shabby, was sitting on the bench at the airport gate and stuffed a sandwich into my mouth. I was at the point of no way to find out how and when I had been rolled around; therefore, there was no way to recognise who I was. While many people in the airport looked excited about their journey, I was the only one with an empty face. I was reminded of my mum’s face that morning, somehow. Our farewell, which we never expected to be facing again, was peaceful. I thought it was good not to cry, but honestly, I was too exhausted to cry. At that moment, I lost everything I had before: love, friendship, family, career, and myself. The only thing I had was the ticket—no return.

I read and watched the stories about people who lost everything and ran away—like Elizabeth Gilbert from ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ and Cheryl Strayed from ‘Wild.’ I got inspiration from their stories to go on the journey. Still, I had zero expectations that I would be in the same situation as them. When I started preparing for this travel, when I said I would go to Australia for a living, at least at that time, I had a father who was proud of me for that decision. Well, after all, now, he is less than a stranger passing by on the street.

That day, I should have taken off the earrings. While touching my earrings presented by my friend for farewell, I thought like that.

I can’t remember the beginning, but I can remember exactly how the ended. That thick palm slapped me and knocked me to the ground. I grabbed my bloody ear, which in pain I had never gotten used to, and I looked around to look for earrings that had flown away. That was my favourite earring. Thanks for that; after all, I never even looked at it. I still remember the reason for the argument. I weirdly memorised well things like that. Every good memory faded away without difficulty and couldn’t be recognised to exist; on the other side, every hurt memory sat their ass on, never healed, and became scars.

‘You should become a human first!’

That word, I couldn’t erase from that time, even now. It all started with money issues; it was about his sacred pride. ‘Serve your elders’: just like our family motto, he was always obsessed with being the king of this family. Perhaps it was all because, after he got caught cheating by my mum and their relationship became a disaster, he couldn’t bear his own children’s attitude, which didn’t want to deal with his excuses. He wanted me to pay the bill for supporting my family, which I had already paid to my mum and started chattering about money, money, and money. The first daughter is seed money for livelihood, that old tale in South Korea, which I hate; he talked to me with depreciation, dealing with me like I was some sort of ATM. And I was not that easy a person who ignored all those spiky words. All those scars, pains, and hurts, after, I was toxic. All that blame, he said like he had debts or something; he said I never kept my promises. Fair enough, I just mentioned the same thing he had done to me. That promise, that he would pay back all my student loans, which I never trusted. That promise he made with his massive ego. And then, he didn’t even treat me as a human being. Keep that stupid money. I’m not taking that shit. I just replied like that. After that, I could see myself on the floor.

Was I scared? The violence was my dearest friend in the entirety of my life; the venomous words from that dirty mouth never got into my ears. That day, the reason I picked up the phone was all my pure stubbornness. Half a year earlier, he had yelled at me only because of his bad mood, which made me wonder all night what I had done wrong. I couldn’t figure it out, so I waited for an answer, but he pretended nothing happened. Even when, one night, my brothers and I decided to speak up about all the violence he had done to us, he laughed and said he couldn’t remember. So, after all, if I expected his apologies, I must be foolish. Still, I only wished to hear that he said sorry. No mum interceded between us, no brothers protected me in the last line; therefore, at least, if he said sorry, even that simple word could let go of all that happened that night.

That day, for the first time in my life, the police came to our house. After the situation, escorted by police, I left my house, called my mum, and explained the situation without emotion. When I met my friend H, I finally could cry. I went to her home, I cried like it was the end of the world, I drank soju like drinking water, and I fell asleep with tears in my eyes. The following day, I got a text from my father that I wished for, saying sorry. But there was no apology. Only his claim that I must have to understand about him, which there was no way to understand, was all. I shut my mouth after all. I became silent, like sinking under the water.

One year later, I stood on the starting line. During long breaks of silence, I held my breath enough. I sank deeply to the bottom, so the only thing I had to do was swim up to the surface. Yet, I still had my word. I said I would leave, so I left. Not like my father, I wanted to be someone who kept the promise. Even if the future was blurred, I felt comfort from the fact that, at least, this was my first kick. I knew this was running away from all my problems; even if I tried to describe it as a glorious beginning, it wouldn’t matter to me. Having a resolute start, I had already been halfway. Just like my mum cut out her marriage after twenty-seven years, I had to cut out my cycle of scars.

I wanted to breathe.

So I ran away.

Listening to the announcement of opening the gate, I got up from the bench. The destination was Xian, China, the heart of ancient history. And therefore, it might be big enough to hold the new history I was about to write.

It was the beginning of my first step.