CHAPTER I The ride to the airport was stifling, filled with silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Who knew that a lack of noise could be so suffocating? My mother and I had barely exchanged a single word to one another since we left home, and the hour-long journey was filled only by coughs, snuffles and the sounds of breathing. My mother's controlled, placid breaths and my rushed, anxious ones. And for what, I kept wondering? Over an argument? I still couldn't recall what I had done so much to be sent away. Dismissed from the city that I loved, torn away from the friends that I've made, and forced to say farewell to the family that was nearby. My eyes still stung with tears, dry and puffy for sobbing softly in the seat. I tried not to cry, not wanting her to know how I felt over this. Being sent overseas to Korea, to meet people I've never met before, in a place I've never been in, to partake in a new culture that was so different from the one I was used to and loved so much. She gave no explanation, keeping a passive expression on her face - eyes glued to the road that the car's headlights led us on. The darkness of the tunnel overhead shrouded everything, including my tear-streaked face, or so I had hoped. I felt weak, perhaps stupid, compared to her ever calm demeanor and unbreakable resolve. The crying was first, anger and screaming soon followed -pleading to know why, was next, and finally, begging fervently to stay. I'd do anything, I told her. I'd work harder on my homework. I'd achieve better grades. I'd be nicer to her. I'd never argue with her again. I'd even give up my phone, my laptop and the television in my room. Every attempt was futile, I quickly realized - and I could only help but wonder why the woman I had looked up to so dearly throughout my seventeen years of life was almost willing to give me up so easily. "I hate you!" I even screamed to her. It was harsh, maybe even a desperate attempt to rouse some kind of reaction from her. To upset her, and make her cry like I had been for being sent away so mercilessly. I was scared. Very. I didn't travel much, if at all, and Pennsylvania was my home. I'd wanted to spend my life there, to grow old with a husband and three children. Only four more years though, I reminded myself - only four more years until I was twenty one and I was an adult. Only four more years until I could pack my bags and leave Korea to return home. Home, Pennsylvania - for Korea would never be my home. We left first thing in the morning, where my flight to Seoul would take me. She'd cared enough to make sure that I had packed everything I would need for the unwanted trip. The drive was over an hour and a half away, and halfway along, she'd tried making conversation to lighten the silence. "It'll be exciting. Yooa is nice. You'll like her," she said, both hands on the steering wheel. Seeing how tense she was even while driving didn't placate me any. Still upset, I didn't respond. Fiddling around with my phone had long lost its entertainment -a distraction, and I had eventually settled with looking out of the window. The traffic was fairly dense this early in the morning, light barely within the horizon, and yet I still felt wide awake. I yawned once, but was far too anxious to fall asleep. I pretended as though I couldn't hear her instead, and I could see in the corner of my peripheral that she didn't even glance my way. Sometimes, I wondered how she could keep such a mask on her face. Did she really not care? Did she really want me gone? By the time we'd made it to the airport, the sky was painted with a brighter shade of indigo -the world no longer shrouded within a blanket of darkness and vague shadow. The bright illumination from the airport's lights stretched across the streets and I could feel the pebbles knot up in my throat. My stomach turned, heart hammered quickly against my chest. My fists had been balled up tight in my lap, one hand clamped around my cell phone, until it was left wet and clammy. This was it. … Was this really it? I'd sworn I had stopped crying by now, but if I had, it'd promptly started again - initiated by the soft sound of sniffles. I tried hiding closer beneath the strap of my seat belt, hoping it wouldn't be obvious. Had my hair not been peeled back in a sloppy raven ponytail, I could have hid behind it and gotten away with what I was trying so desperately to conceal. I suddenly had the brilliant idea of opening the door and rolling out of it, as I'd seen in action movies. I wouldn't get injured... would I? I could run away, stay here and my mom wouldn't have to worry about it. But I couldn't. I was neither brave nor crazy enough to pull off anything like that. I had quietly given in to my fate - letting others dictate who I was, where I should be, and where I belonged. I was the wallflower, the follower, the introvert - and I'd never really considered the possibility of changing all of that. To me, it was beyond normal; I wasn't cool enough to make the decisions, I wasn't pretty enough to have a number of boys at my disposal, and I wasn't entertaining nor charismatic enough to draw attention to me and gain the popularity and positive aura I saw radiating from so many people as I passed them by in school or on the street. To my surprise, when the vehicle was parked in the unpredictably crowded lot after smoothly moving through the line into the entryway checkpoints, my mother wasn't in a hurry to leave the vehicle. She sat there, fingers still held tightly onto the steering wheel - looking straight ahead at seemingly nothing, as though she wanted to see everything but me. My nose was running, sure to have been tinted a light pink from the sniffling mess I was reduced to. I didn't quite glance at her, nor did I make any attempt to leave. I hoped, prayed, even, that she would change her mind. Come to her senses, fight against whatever irrational possession she was under to do this. To tell me what she was thinking and why. Lifting my gaze from her forearm - covered in a light denim jacket - to her profile, I noticed the waiver in her eyes for the first time. And as quickly as I had hoped this would be a sign that she would stop this - let me stay, forgive me for whatever I had done so fitting for this, it was gone. Snuffed out like a weak flame atop a candle. "Alright…" She breathed out, and the lump in my throat grew. "Let's go?" Was that a question? Was she /asking/ me? My lips slackened in disbelief, but I'd noticed the reluctance in her dark brown orbs - I'd seen it, even if it were only there for a second. Did she not want to see me go, or perhaps was I just misinterpreting what I saw? I didn't get the chance to ask because before I could argue; before I could croak out ANYTHING about how stupid this whole thing was - how unfair it was, and how I didn't even have a choice - she was climbing out and popping open the trunk to gather my luggage. Any fragment of hope I had seemed to dry away with a sponge. I felt my very heart plummet to the pits of my stomach. Self-consciously, I pulled over the hood of my hoodie to cover my head -trying to drag its hem