It all started that night seeing my mother getting killed by my own father.

I can still feel the pane scuizing my heart every single time I remember her screaming from pain. And all that I’ve got to do that night was to run away, far from this hell that became more painful than before.

I don’t remember exactly the time I have run like that, I was terrified and depressed after seeing that scene.

The day after, I remember standing with the same torn pajamas, in front of our house which was full by the police cars and ambulance, a minute later I saw my dad being pulled into one of this cars and my mom was all covered with a white blanket that barely covered her bloody face. At that point I quickly run into her embarrass trying my best to memories her smell that I was going to miss so much, and gradually I felt being drawn by somebody who I suppose was my aunt. By seeing her being pulled away from me I start crying with hard sobs and all I kept saying was: “sorry mother”.

The next thing that changed my life was hearing that my father has suicide of the shock of his action, and I likely had to leave my hometown to South Korea, a country in which I could only memorize the name.

I was fully depressed and all I wanted was to follow my mother to heaven where I was sure she would be living happily but until now all I can do is waiting. Yes, waiting cause that is what my dear mom taught me as she make me promise that I‘ll always be strong whenever happen and I’ll make sure to keep this precious promise of mine.