Alone, walking the streets of an unfamiliar country, I struggle to locate my new home in Brooklyn, New York. After nearly an hour of searching with no luck, I face my fears and ask a tall brunette woman for directions. Leaving the conversation a slight less confused than I was before, I attempt to remember every left and right direction in the exact order she told me.  

 It is now 10:33 PM, just three hours after I arrived to New York. Three hours of wandering the streets of Brooklyn with my suitcase and backpack, helplessly searching for a place I was beginning to believe I would never find. Strange people were now wandering the streets, I begin picking up my pace, hoping I will arrive at my destination soon. As I look down from a street sign I make eye contact with a drunken man. He yells at me inaudibly, and begins walking towards my direction. Panicking, I run as fast as I can, dragging my suitcase behind me, to an alleyway. Once I am deep into the alleyway and know I've lost the drunken man, I lean against the gang sign tagged wall to catch my breath. Just when I thought my experience in this foreign country can't get any worse, I hear a loud bang. Turning my head to the right, I see a man standing opposite me with a revolver in his hand. Trying not to make eye contact, I look at his feet. My eyes widen in fear as I witness a dead body laying in a pool of blood. Unable to stop myself, I make eye contact with the man holding the gun as he begins to laugh, 

"What's a pretty boy like you doing in an area like this past your bedtime?" The man continued, "Before you die, do the pleasure of entertaining me. Do you like knives? Because this guy didn't. So I shot him instead. How boring." 

I stand still, my eyes wide, wishing I never ran down this alley. No, wishing I never left Korea at all. I turn to look at the direction of the alleyway I came from. I feel something hit my shoe, immediately I look down and see a pocket knife. I pick up the pocket knife to defend myself, when the man takes a swing at me. Scared for my life, I swing wildly as the man dodges my every move, 

"Not too bad for a pretty boy." The man says. 

Kill or be killed, I tell myself.