"Am I really the victim here?"
My name isChonabut my friends used to call meChoiI was born on May 5, 1995. I'm the third in five siblings. I grew up in the family that everything or my actions were always comparable to my siblings.For a long time I had a hard time becoming myself. I tried to be a daughter that they're dreaming of. When I was in elementary I couldn't have a failed grade in fear they might be ashamed of me. I tried to be a perfect daughter as I wished to be better than my siblings.But all of that was ignored and not enough. So I decided to enjoy being myself. I did everything that would make me happy. Good thing is I have my best friend, Luke. He's a funny but kind guy. He's always by my side.
"Did you hear the news? You are now a candidate for Arts and Design."-Luke.
I smiled. Well who cares?My parents did not feel good about it.My dream is to become a popular artist but my mom says there is no money for it.
"Aren't you happy?" hewas cynical in my arm. Again, I just smiled.
"Don't be sad... Food?" he took a sandwich with his paper bag. He really knows how to make me smile.
Not only at home, even people here in the school are hurting me. But as I say no one cares.
Even though I know she would not be happy I still excited to tell her about my schools.
"What is your plans for your life? You will be burdened by your siblings in the future if you still playing around." that's what I always hear from my mom. I always want to shout that I'm not a bad person, I just want to be appreciated and feel that they know I'm existed. But all of that seems to be a joke. I often hear my mom and sister talking about how wasted I am. I came to the point of my life that I had the best award in school and I was in a second rank, but my mom refuse to join me in the stage so I had to borrow a mother from my friend. I was hurt over and over again but I have to show that I'm fine, because they don't care if I say I'm hurt. I tried to fix myself even though I knew it was not important to them. I tried not for them but for me. I study not hard but I study because I wanna learn a lot. I became matured to the concept that in our life no one is willing to protect you, but ourselves.
No one asked me if I was okay.
Year 2009 we find out that our dad has another woman in abroad. It became more complicated in our house. Every night I hear my mom crying. Even though she didn't love me as she love my siblings, I still hurt. I want to hug her but I know she don't want to see me. I was angry with men. We had a problem with money and my mother was in debt. My study was very affected. Everyday the situation is getting worse.I'm depressed and drained. I can't breath. I want to lose or cry out loud. I don't know who I'm going to ask WHY this is happening. Because of the lack of money I worked as a cashier in the store just to complete high school because I knew that my mom would not support me I did not tell them that I'm working. One night from work when I got home my mom slapped me with no reason. I asked her why did she do that.
"Why did you come home late?"-mom.
"I just finished my project in library." I answered.
"Library?! At this time? Don't fool me! You did nothing but trouble here. You don't have a difference to your dad.You will never be like your sisters." I didn't wait for her to finish. I left the house. My eyes glistened because of my tears. I don't know where I'm going. My mind is full of questions. I went to the Luke's apartment but there's no body. Its funny to think that its look like the situation was playing with me, the rain fell. So I had no choice but to sit over the door of Luke. Because I'm waiting to rain stop and getting tired I did not realize I was asleep. Until someone gently tap my head.
"Choi?" his eyes is asking. I have nothing to say so I cry. I repeatedly asked him why they didn't see my value. He tried to calm me but I was surrendered, thinking that the only way to get rid of the pain is to end my life. I'm exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel. His room is on the 9th floor so he's afraid of what's running in my mind.
2AM of August 7, 2009 still in his room. I can't sleep. Istill hear how they laugh at me.I repeatedly hear the words of my mom, how worthless I am for them. I did my best...did Ido it? I'm so mad at my mind. There's a lot of question that cant be answered. Or maybe there's an answer... i just cant really accept it...
I found myself standing on the window of Luke's room. I can see the lights down the road and the cold air that invited me to join 'em. Slowly, I close my eyes and feel the sound from the outside as I pressed my body over the window. Very close... a little bit more and all the pain will end. And finally the last part of my body has slipped. But suddenly there is a hand grab me.
"Let me go..." I can't look at him.
"You're stupid to think that no one loves you. How important is the love you begging for them? I'm here... I love you..." after I heard those words I was forced to look up. He's crying.
"You don't know how hurt I am when you're struggling. Even though I know you're strong woman, I'm still worried about you... so please stop this nonsense and take my hand." as I was listen to him, I came back to my mind that yes... there's a Luke.
I tried to reach his hand. I cling to his arm. I gradually feel that my body is rising, but it seems like something is wrong. My body is rising but Luke's body goes down the window.
"Keep climbing..." I think I know what's going to happen.
Things are so fast... the only thing I hear is the wind and the noise coming from the road. I can't peep, I don't want to see. I wanna cry but no tears are released. I gently stared at my hands... What did I do?Luke is gone because of me. Now what? ...It feels like everyone else moving on with their lives, while here I am stuck in this hole that I can't climb out of.
Am I really the victim here?
Crying may help but I have to be stronger. I know there is a monster inside of me but I have to beat it.
Hopefully everyone will be aware and sensitive. Not everyone smiles are really fine. No one wants to be alone and feel unloved. If someone comes to you and wants to talk about his/her struggle, let's not ignore it. Sometimes they don't need someone to understand, they need the person who's willing to listen.