Our family was extremely conservative.
My older sister, seven years my senior, was discriminated against despite being the eldest, simply because she was a woman.
The reason was just that one thing.
A woman.
…I’m sick of it.
My sister was incredibly kind.
Even when she was constantly teased and harassed at home, she’d use her allowance to buy me snacks.
The house was always noisy because of Grandpa, so I’d wait at the school gate for my sister to finish her day.
Ever since Mom passed away when I was young, my sister seemed to take on the role of a mother for me.
“Yongsu!”
“Why, Sis?”
“Want to wait here today? I might finish a bit late.”
“…Okay!”
As time passed, my sister became a second-year high school student.
Grandpa opposed her studying just because she was a woman, but Dad supported her, insisting she at least graduate high school.
Because of this, she spent more days studying at school, and I naturally ended up spending more time at the library.
I don’t want to go home…!
Even though I could return home, I hated the atmosphere there so much.
My sister knew this, which is why she took me to the library.
“Wow… can I really read any book?”
“Of course you can.”
Perhaps knowing my situation, the librarian lady took care of me.
Sometimes, she’d bring me snacks or fruit.
“Want me to recommend a book?”
“Yes, please!”
There were books at home too.
But they were mostly written in difficult Chinese characters, hard for me to understand.
In contrast, the library had plenty of books easy for a child to read.
“Wooow…”
The first book the librarian recommended to me:
[And So We Became Heroes]
A story about poor children becoming heroes, later adapted into an independent film five years later.
It was recommended for elementary students, filled with stories that helped kids grow.
It’s fun…
It was fun.
For me, living a dull and dry life, novels showed me a whole new world.
I… want to be a novelist when I grow up.
The immense shock I felt as a child filled my world, making my heart tremble.
I wanted to become a writer who could create such stories someday.
“No way!”
One day, while I was in and out of the library dreaming of becoming a novelist, Grandpa found the career aspiration form sticking out of my backpack.
“Why, why not?”
“A writer? Absolutely not! You need to become a soldier or a civil servant!”
“No way! I’m going to be a writer!”
“You little—!”
For the first time, I talked back to Grandpa.
Having my dream denied felt unbearable.
“How dare you talk back to an elder!”
Grandpa swung his switch at me.
Dozens of red welts appeared on my calves.
“Why don’t you say you’ll give it up?!”
Sniff… sniff… “No way! I’m going to be a writer!”
“You insolent—!”
Grandpa didn’t stop swinging the switch.
My calves started bleeding, but my stubbornness kept my mouth shut.
-Drurrk.
At that moment, Dad opened the door and came in.
“F-Father?”
Without knocking, Dad entered and looked at me silently.
Until that moment, I thought he’d come to help me.
But Dad’s next action… changed my life forever.
Slap!
“…!”
Dad raised his hand and, without a word, slapped my cheek.
Clutching my reddened cheek, I stumbled backward.
Pain?
There was none of that.
But… my heart hurt more than ever before.
“Say you’ll give it up, now.”
“Hurry!”
“…Yes.”
At Dad’s words, I could only nod.
That day, my world collapsed.
I stopped talking at home.
My sister worried about me, but I ignored her.
I ignored Grandpa whenever we crossed paths.
Family… they’re meaningless.
To lift my spirits, my sister kept trying to cheer me up.
But my heart, firmly shut, wouldn’t open despite her efforts.
“Yongsu… take care of yourself.”
After graduating high school, my sister moved out to live on her own.
She had escaped from a fiancé Grandpa had arranged for her.
From the start, Grandpa had looked at her with disapproval during high school, waiting until she graduated to push her into marriage.
When my sister fled from that marriage and left home, I was left alone.
…It doesn’t matter.
My life didn’t change anyway.
Give up on being a writer? Never.
Though I lived with family, I cut ties with them emotionally.
Like a rock that grows stronger as it breaks, the harsher Grandpa treated me, the more my resolve burned.
It’s time… for me to leave too.
When I became a high school student, I enrolled in a boarding school.
It was to completely sever ties with my family.
Still, I never gave up on my dream of becoming a writer.
Keep writing.
But there was a problem.
South Korea didn’t favor young writers.
No matter how many times I submitted to literary contests, my age as a high school student held me back.
I felt the literary world in this country was too stagnant.
What should I do?
Was I stuck before I could even start?
While I was thinking this, an opportunity came.
“Canada… studying abroad?”
“Yeah. What do you think?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Your grades are excellent, Yongsu, so you can study abroad. You can get a scholarship, so living there won’t be hard. Want to apply?”
“Canada…”
A chance to study in Canada, something I’d never considered.
I’d need my parents’ permission, but it felt like a new opportunity for me.
If I immigrate to Canada… will I get my chance?
I thought a lot, but in the end, I made my decision.
As a second-year high school student, I decided to leave Korea.
“Please sign.”
Back at my family home, I shoved the documents in front of Dad.
Seeing the study abroad papers, he stared at me silently.
“What’s this?”
“I want to study abroad in Canada.”
After looking at me for a long time, Dad quietly signed.
He didn’t say a word as he handed the papers back.
“…Are you coming back?”
As I was about to leave, Dad spoke to my back.
A voice so small it could’ve been drowned out by the slightest sound.
A voice that sounded like a sigh, almost making me burst into tears.
“…Take care of yourself.”
I didn’t say anything.
Perhaps sensing my resolve, Dad quietly let me go.
…Sob, sob.
Tears streamed down my face as I left the house.
I had given up everything.
I had given up on family.
Despite my repeated vows, my heart still didn’t seem to understand my decision.
I’ll succeed… I absolutely will. Absolutely…
And so, with a scholarship, I headed to Canada.
That was my last memory of Korea, and my final memory of family.
In Canada, I succeeded as a writer.
My work was recognized for its artistic value, winning several awards, which allowed me to complete my immigration process quickly.
My works were even adapted into films, and those films achieved remarkable success.
A bestselling rookie author.
That was me.
“Fifteen years… already.”
At 33 years old, I had been writing tirelessly.
Canada had many foreigners, but few Asians, so I endured countless instances of discrimination.
Driven by passion, I pushed forward, but now, for some reason, I started to hate writing.
Having shed the label of rookie and taken on the title of professional, I no longer wanted to write.
No, I was afraid to write.
“Sigh…”
It had been months, and I didn’t know why.
Am I getting old? Dopamine addiction? Or is there another reason?
I didn’t know.
Writing was still fun and made me happy.
But at some point, it started feeling terrifying, and crafting stories felt like hitting a wall.
My fingers… no longer moved.
“…Sigh.”
I stared at the soju bottle in front of me.
After becoming an adult, I tried Canadian whiskey, but it didn’t suit me.
Out of curiosity, I tried Korean soju, and strangely, it felt just right.
Can’t change my roots, huh…
I’d never drunk in Korea, but did my roots still lie there?
-Brrring!
While I was drinking with some simple snacks, my phone suddenly rang.
It rarely rang, so I knew who it was.
“Hello?”
“Writer, what are you up to?”
“Just… the usual.”
“Hahaha. Still struggling with writing, I see.”
It was my editor.
Having worked together since my childhood, they knew my struggles better than anyone.
“Calling me this late to nag about writing?”
“No, no. It’s not that. Just… we got a call at the publishing house.”
“A call? This late?”
“Yes. Well… if it wasn’t important, I would’ve told you tomorrow, but…”
The editor hesitated.
They were usually straightforward, separating work and personal life, so seeing them hesitate was a first.
“Writer, do you have family in Korea?”
“…What?”
What did they just say?
The editor’s sharp voice pierced my heart, leaving me speechless.
“A call came from someone in Korea. They introduced themselves as… Shin-ae Choi? Do you know them?”
“No… never heard the name.”
Shin-ae Choi?
A name I’d never heard before.
I should’ve felt relief, but my heart pounded strangely.
Though my head spun from the alcohol, my ear stayed glued to the phone.
I felt that if I missed this moment, I’d regret it forever as a human being.
“They said they’re a friend of Mihye Kwon.”
***
Mihye Kwon.
My sister’s name, one I hadn’t heard since she left home as a child.
Hearing her name made my heart race faster than ever.
It was as if my body was warning me to hang up, but my hand wouldn’t move.
“Do you know them?”
“She’s… my sister. My real sister.”
At that, the editor fell silent.
Thump, thump, thump, thump!!!
In the silent void, my heart felt like it would explode.
“…Mihye Kwon passed away at 8 a.m. Korea time in a drunk driving accident.”
“ ”
“We’ll look into the earliest flight available. Our deepest condolences—”
To Korea…
Writer…
That day, I heard news of my sister for the first time in 20 years.
In the worst possible way.