Strong. That’s what my father always said to me. “If you are a man, you have to be strong. You can’t cry”. I still keep those words in mind. My father is a taekwondo coach. He owns a dojo. My mother….well….I haven’t see her in my life. My father said that she passed away when she gave birth to me. I felt sad but I wouldn’t cry because I’m ‘strong’ but my father’s eyes were b of tears. I remember the first time everyone called me ‘monster’.

It was when our only one rabbit at kindergarten died. Everyone cried. I wanted to cry too but when I saw that everyone cried including the teacher I felt that I need to be ‘strong’ for them. The problem would not be solved by crying so I held my tears and tried to dig a hole for the rabbit. Everyone looked at me weirdly. They asked me “Why are you digging a hole Chimin-ah?” and I answered that I wanted to bury the rabbit so that it would be in peace. Everyone was shocked by it. They yelled at me and called me a monster. I was sad but I couldn’t cry because ‘I’m strong’. Later on the teacher came with a spade, probably wanting to bury the rabbit. She saw me being pushed to the wall. She called my father and we went home. I only told my father when he asked me why I did it. Then I told him the full story. I noticed that he had a worried expression on his face.

“Why didn’t you cry Jimin?” My father asked. I looked at his side profile for a long time before answering “I’m strong. Strong people can’t cry.” I heard my father sigh and he didn’t say anything to me after that. When we arrived home, my father said that I have to show emotion or else people will isolate me. No one wanted to be my friend. I knew that. I understood. I always smiled, I felt sad and happy but I couldn’t bring myself to cry.

The next day I went to kindergarten, everyone looked at me, disgustingly, while whispering the word ‘monster’. From that day on, everyone called me the ‘emotionless boy’.

Even though everyone isolated me, there were two boys that always watched me. I didn’t know whether they wanted to insult me or be my friend. It couldn’t be the latter right? But I hate if it was the first one. I ignored them, afraid that they would insulted me.

It was on recess, when a group of students gathered at my desk. I was confused. Why did they gather here? Do they want to eat with me? Are they finally wanting to be my friend ‘again’? But oh, how wrong was I. One of them took my lunch box and started eating it in front of me. I was speechless. I wanted to take my lunch box back but was pushed by the big fat guy. Usually there would be a teacher watching us when it was recess time but as always, when I was in trouble, the teacher would not be here for me. The boys said something about me but I couldn’t understand it. I felt cold. My chest suddenly felt heavy. I saw that they wanted to throw my food at me so I clenched my eyes