I was born in Korea. But I do not know the language. I do not know the culture. I do not know the land. I do not know my family.

My earliest memory is of a run-down house. I was lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling that had dripped and sagged for as long as I could remember. Touching my back was a threadbare rug; thrown on the floor to cover the holes forming in the rotting wood. I do not remember any voices nor any sounds for that matter, other than the steady drip-drip of the water leaking in through the run-down tin ceiling. Other than this memory, I have no more until a day when I was 7 years old.

It comes back in flashes of green. Running through the forest alongside a wagon holding my younger brother, pulled along by two faceless figures. Lying on the ground, shivering from the cold seeping into my bones that would not go away. The earthy smell of the moist moss underneath my head. Waking up alone. The two faceless figures were gone. I do not know why. I do not know where they went. Alone in a strange forest with my 5 year old brother, a moth-eaten blanket, and a toy wagon. And so we walked, rather, I walked and pulled as my baby brother slept on. I do not know for how many minutes, hours, days I walked but finally the trees began to thin out. I walked out of the forest and onto a small, paved road, and so I altered my direction, following the road, assuming it would lead to people. I followed that faded road, surrounded by trees on both sides until I noticed a small building in the distance. As I got closer I realized I must have come upon a border of some kind, and a man walked out to meet me. He too was faceless. I do not know who he was.

I do not remember the burns or the beatings, but I recognize the scars for what they are. I mindlessly drifted through my next 5 years in an orphanage along with the hundreds of other crying, dirty, starving children. Then came along the first figure that also came with a face.

I did not know her name but I would remember this woman for the rest of my life. She and her husband took my brother and I from this hellhole to give us a new life in America.

The house was small but attractive and it was kept orderly, with a neat little yard surrounding it. We lived on a military base because the woman's husband was in the army.

I quickly learned that this new place was not so different from the old place. I do not remember any good things or any parts of my daily life. I remember that the woman would burn me with the butt of one of her cigarettes that she was constantly smoking. I remember her swinging me around by my hair. I remember my younger brother taking baths happily and I given freezing cold water. If I asked for warmer water I was forced to bathe in scalding hot water.

We lived in California. The kids in school did not like my brother very much. My brother came home from school with bruises and scratches. I went to school with bruises and burns.

I remember hiding in a cornfield, keeping quiet for fear of being found. I remember being afraid of every face on the street, unable to trust anyone. I remember, but I do not know.