Age: 17. Birthday: June 20, 1996. Parent’s Occupation. My pencil stopped as I looked at the two words “Parent’s Occupation.” My hand started writing again. Parent’s Occupation: Former contract worker under Winner Group. I finished the rest of the form and handed it up to my homeroom teacher. After everyone finished, a guy named Jaehyun raised his hand and asked, “What’s the point of these forms?” Exactly what I wanted to know.

    “Oh, it’s to diagnose which career matches with you. Since you all are seniors, I’m sure it’s confusing, deciding which path you want to take so this form will give suggestions.” my teacher, Mr. Lee, replied.

     I huffed, are the suggestions even going to be helpful? I muttered to myself, “Doubt anyone’s going to actually follow the diagnosis.” 

     “DId you say something, Nara?” Mr. Lee glanced at me. I swear, he has superhuman hearing. 

     “No.” I replied shortly. My friend Sooyoung who sits in the row across from me leaned forward facing me and raised an eyebrow. I raised an eyebrow back and we both silently giggled.

     “Anyways, I hope you all are thinking about your futures throughout the year. I’ll see you guys tomorrow and don’t forget to ask your parents about the senior trip next month.” he said and the bell rung.

      Sooyoung ran up to me, “Hey, are you going to go to the senior trip?” 

     “I don’t think so. I can’t afford it.” I bluntly said. She already knew that my mom and I were barely holding up with the rent for our small house and she nodded, understanding. 

     “But seriously, I can pay for you.” she said sincerely. Sooyoung’s family was on the richer side, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to accept anyone’s help or pity. I knew Sooyoung wanted to help me, but I couldn’t just accept someone’s money. 

     “What about your brother? Can’t he pay for you?” she asked. My older brother Joowon was luckily able to receive full scholarship for an university in Seoul and he’s now an intern at a Seoul hospital.

     “Joowon’s an intern. He’s barely managing too. The last time he visited, he told me that he eats cup ramen everyday.” I said. Wanting to change the topic, I asked, “Are you going to hang out with everyone else at the boba shop today?”

    “Yup. Suho’s going. So of course I’m going.” she excitedly swooned. Suho, the guy she had a crush on since sophomore year, is the class president and he is one of the nicest guys in our school.  

     “Ok, you better tell me if anything happens between you two. Gotta go, bye!” I waved and ran off. I love running. For some reason, it makes me feel lighter and I can focus better. I ran out of the school and through the streets until I reached our small neighborhood on the hill. My feet pounded against the broken concrete and the small houses blurred around me. I stopped when I saw my house, the one with dirty blue roof. I opened the old rusty black gate and passed by the tally marks I had made on the right side of the house. I used to count the number of days my dad was gone when I was in middle school, believing he would return home safely. My dad was a hard working man, a fisherman who went out diligently everyday on the waves of Mokpo. I looked up to him- my father was a humorous, but wise man who taught me so many lessons about life. Although he was always tired, he would come home with a big smile on his face, embracing me in his jacket that always smelled like the sea. But one day, he didn't come home. And my mom, my brother, and I realized that he was gone, lost in the waves. I didn't want to believe it, but for my mom's sake, I stopped marking tallies on the wall and tried to live on, but it was hard, almost too hard to bear.

      I opened the door and called out, “I’m home!” The empty house replied in silence. Of course it's empty. I rubbed my arms, feeling cold in the small house and my stomach started grumbling. 

     “I guess I’m hungry.” I said to myself and opened the refrigerator for food. It was empty with a couple of rotting vegetables I hated. I rolled my eyes, bitter at this situation the protest had created. But then I found a small pot on the stove with a note on top that read “Eat,” unmistakably in my mom’s scrawly handwriting. I opened it up and found warm soup, the fumes heating up my face as I leaned in to smell the long missed homemade food. At least she’s doing one thing right. 

     I brought it carefully to the table and started devouring it when the doorbell rang suddenly.

   “Hey Nara!” my 3rd grade neighbor Haeun excitedly shouted as I opened the door.

    “What’s up?” I asked with a spoon in my hand.

     “Guess what? Someone’s moving in across the street!” she said, anticipatedly waiting for my reaction.

     “Congrats.” I said in a flat voice and started to close the door when her hand suddenly shot in and opened it again.   

     “I heard a guy your age is moving in.” she grinned. My eyebrows shot up curiously and encouraged by my newfound interest, she went on. “My mom saw him and said he’s very handsome.” she slyly looked at me. I’m not falling for her trap.
     “Good for you. Now good bye.” I said and closed the door to finish my soup. But as I ate, I couldn’t help, but be curious about the new guy moving in. What if Haeun was just messing with me? She’s notorious in our neighborhood for her pranks and tricks. But my curiosity was getting the best of me. I sighed and put my spoon down. Well.. it doesn’t hurt to find out. I casually walked out, secretly listening for Haeun’s giggling, but there was none. I walked out and saw a moving truck a little up the hill across the street. I guess she wasn’t messing with me. I curiously walked by slowly, trying to peer into the house when a middle aged woman suddenly walked out. I jumped a little in surprise and ran away, inwardly groaning. That was smooth, Nara, so smooth, I thought to myself.

     I ran to the bus stop. I think I need to go clear my head. The bus came and I sat down in the middle of the bus, on a torn up blue leather seat next to the window. I watched the world outside pass by and strangers walking. The bus went by quickly though so the people seemed like a blur. I thought about how some people such as strangers were considered nobodies to us. They have no impact on our lives, they just don’t matter. And I angrily kicked the seat in front of me as I thought about the protest, how the company my mom worked for belittled the workers, and how my mom went out almost everyday to protest, leaving me alone to fend by myself. 

    When I graduate high school, I’m leaving this town. I’m leaving the empty, cold house, and I’m going to start a new life, one that doesn’t involve a stubborn embarrassing mom who wore her protesting sash proudly like it was a suit of shining armor.

  The bus finally stopped and I jumped off, running to an old building behind the grass field in a park nearby. It was my special place, my sanctuary. A dance studio. One that I had been dancing in, ever since middle school when I discovered it. It was run by an elderly woman who I grew close with and gave me a part time job to teach the kids. And she let me enter anytime, granting me a key when she realized how much I loved dancing. I pulled out the key and unlocked the door. The musty smell of the old studio hit me as I stepped in. I looked around, but no one was here. I smiled. Guess I have the whole studio to myself. 

    I turned the music on full volume and I danced as hard as I could for 2 hours, trying to forget and escape this thing called life that I wasn’t really living. After the last song finished, I collapsed to the ground, huffing and puffing, trying to catch a breath. Even though I was tired, I smiled. Dance was the one passion that I held so dearly, it’s beauty amazes me every time. 

    Suddenly, I heard clapping behind me. I whirled around quickly, surprised. A tall good looking guy with light brown dusty hair and dark eyes was smiling with the biggest, warmest smile I’ve ever seen, clapping his hands. I sat there frozen in shock. At last, I finally sputtered out, “ Wh- who are you?” 

    “Me? I’m Kim Jongin.” he said, still smiling. His smile now looked like a smirk, the type that was kind of cocky, like he knew he was good looking.

    “How long have you been watching?” I barely got out, clutching my heart, still in shock. 

     “It’s been about 30 minutes. You’re really good though.” he said in a nonchalant tone, but he stared deeply into my eyes in an almost sincere thoughtful manner.  

     I said nothing and walked out of the studio. It was the first time anyone had watched me and I was furious- I didn’t want anyone to know or see me dance. It was like a hidden treasure for only me to keep and he had stolen it away from me. He walked out after me. 

    “I’m new here. I moved from Seoul.” he said.

    “Do I look like I care?” I angrily remarked and locked the studio door, trying not to let my curiosity get in the way.

     “Geez. Someone’s sassy. Just saying.” he said and smiled. His smile caught me off guard and I could felt something inside me melt just a tiny bit. It was so warm and carefree.

     “Hi. I’m Nara.” I grudgingly said, holding out my hand, giving in reluctantly to his friendly smile.

     “Do I look like I care?” he teasingly said and walked past me. I stared at my hand. But then he quickly turned around and shook it, “Just kidding. You’re the first person I’ve met since I moved.” I cautiously looked up at his face as we shook hands. Now he didn’t look so cocky, just friendly with a playful look on his face. 

    “Wait. Did you move into the neighborhood on the hill?” I asked. 

     “Yeah. How did you know?” 

     “I live across from you.” I said. Finally my curiosity was being appeased. Haeun wasn’t lying to me. He’s good looking, I reluctantly admitted to myself. 

     “I’m a senior. I guess we’ll be going to the same school then?” he started walking and I followed, catching up beside him. The sun shone in his ruffled hair and it looked even lighter, like the color of mocha.

    “Yeah. I’m a senior too.” I said. I was surprised with myself. It was the first time I had been so open with a stranger. I immediately stopped talking and looked at the ground. 

   “I’m glad I found the studio. I’m a dancer too.” he said. My head popped up and I stared at him. There’s finally another like me? A dancer? 

    “Really?” I asked, unable to hold back the excitement in finding one who shared the same passion as me. “The studio’s always ope-“ I stopped myself. To share my secret sanctuary was a forbidden taboo as I had been hiding my passion for years now, but I felt something swelling inside me, perhaps hope. Hope that I can share my passion with someone who understands it and loves it as much as I do. 

    “Can I come by the studio sometime?” he said, sensing my hesitance, “when I need to dance?”  I slowly nodded, startling myself. 

    “Well, I have to go unpack my stuff. Nice meeting you, Nara.” he said and he smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling. 

    I watched him walk away as I marveled at the first full on normal conversation I had ever had with a stranger and now new neighbor. 

 

Exodus 20:12 

 

“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you."

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