Child trafficking victims, whether for labor, or organ trafficking, come from all backgrounds, include both boys and girls. They span a wide age range from 1 to 18 years old.

“What about a name?” Myungsoo suggested with a smile. He was too scared to frighten the other, so he continued to plaster on a large smile to relax the other.

“I don’t have a name.” He replied quietly, still avoiding his gaze.

“We can make one up! It can be your name, and only yours.”

He saw the other nibble on his lower lip, before nodding in hesitation.

“Alright, tell me which one you like, alright?”

He nodded.

~

His master was being kind. Something he had hardly described a person with. He was still suspicious of his mater’s motives, but for now, he wanted to enjoy this fluttering feeling in his heart. The soft toy that he had received was amazing. He wanted to hug it, but his master was still here, so he mustn’t act so foolish.

After his master had suggested to call him a name only he could have, for once, he felt special. He had been called many names, from the name he grew with to the various names his master had called him. . . Pet. . Dirt. Idiot. All these were his name. The first time his masters had called him that, he thought that he was lucky to have a real name and not a number. He had heard his master’s names, they were never numbers, so he was almost ecstatic when he was called something other than a number. Little did he know that they were devaluing names that were worse than numbers. He felt weary and suspicious of the words his master was going to call him, but he was in no position to disagree.

“Hmm, which surname do you like?”

He hadn’t known any other surname other than Lee. That was the surname of a kind old man who gave him a free apple one day, when he was forced to trail behind his past master. It was surname he wished he always had, but still, he refused to say it out loud. Instead he shrugged.

“Kim?” He shook his head.

“Jung?” Another shake.

“Nam?” And another.

“Uhm, Choi?” And another. He chewed on his lower lip. Will his master be mad?

“Lee?” His eyes travelled to the side, where he saw his master’s lap. “Yes?” His master asked.

He nodded. “Great.” He master smiled. His smile was very charming.

“Now first name.”

“Changdo?” He murmured quietly. He didn’t like that name, neither did his master it had seemed, as he saw him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

“Hyejoon?” His master wondered.

“No.” He whispered.

“Yeah, I don’t like that one either.” He agreed. There was a short pause, and he took the chance to look up, seeing his master’s focused look. His frown became a small smile as he uttered a word that made his heart flutter slightly, “Yeol.”

He liked that name. “Sungyeol.” His master concluded. “That’s a pretty good name, I think. What do you think? Don’t lie. I won’t get mad if you don’t like it.”

He loved that name. He nodded in approval.

His master smiled widely, “It means to become fierce or passionate. It suits you.” He smiled.

Fierce. He liked that. He liked to think that he was fierce. After all, he had lived in hell for 16 years. Of course he was fierce. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t have lived for so long.

“Thank you mast-” He paused, remember his master’s small request, “Thank you, Myungsoo.”

“You’re welcome… Sungyeol.”

He let out a small smile.

He finally had a name.

It wasn’t a number.

It wasn’t a degrading adjective to describe him.

No. It was unique.

He had a real name

Lee Sungyeol.

That was his name

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