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[Fanfic] The Story of My Life / Part 1 of 3
The Story of My Life
Chapter 1
Sometimes I wonder if…what if I didn’t do everything the way my parents wanted it.
Would I be the same or would I be different?
Would I still be a good student or wouldn’t I?
Would I still love sports or wouldn’t I?
Would I have the same musical training or wouldn’t I?
Would I have the same friends or wouldn’t I?
But all those are questions and wonderings that I’ll never really know. But it never does stop me from wondering.
Hi, My name is MinWoo and I haven’t always asked what if questions. To tell you the truth I was fine with the way I lived. Until the day I met her.
Up until the day I met her I never knew that there was actually was such a thing were a person could live the life they wanted to have. Make their own decisions. Something I never wanted or knew about but on the day I met her I longed for it.
If you want to know why I grew up to be like this well than here is the story of my life:
I was born on July 28, 1979 to two parents who would be considered old to being giving berth to their first child. For they had tried for many years for a child but had failed. Up to the day that my mother had discovered she was pregnant with me my parents were about to sign adoption papers. So when I was born they considered me a miracle. My parents loved me. Giving me everything at the best that money could buy and teach. They wanted the best for me so they hired tutors for me when I was only two. Because they thought learning earlier would make me smarter. Which to them, my friends, and relatives proved successful. I was hired teachers left and right for everything. By the time I was ten I you could say knew everything. I could play any instrument you put in front of me, I was smarter than my cousins who were in college, I could speak 10 languages bilingually, I excelled in every sport, and I did whatever my parents wanted me too. They say walk north, I walked north. They said do this, I did what they told. As I look back at it I would consider myself a puppet to them. But I was a sickly child. I was a hemophiliac. That only made things worse. They only paid more attention to whatever I did. I couldn’t do anything. “Wooie don’t go on the slide because you might hurt yourself and start bleeding,” my mom or dad would say. Don’t touch that, don’t go on that, don’t go near that. That’s was to tell you the truth the only things they would say too me. Don’t, no, do this, learn this, and be good. Are the only things I’ve ever known. Even up to who I could talk or be friends with was controlled. I would always wonder weather or not I was their child or just a toy. Why were they so cold toward their son, their child, their blood?
Things only got worse when I entered high school. I went to the best high school there was. There I was told where to sit, what classes take, and who to hang around with. High School and my teen years where like hell to me when there supposedly suppose to be the best years of your life. Mine were the worst. Mainly because I only remember my teen years. My childhood years were and are just this big blur too me. You could say I was pressured to get good grades, not only good grades but the best grades. I joined every sport that I could join. And excelled in them. But my parents never really had to tell to do does things. But it was just there. Growing up I had learned to just do things without being told. Because I knew what was expected of me. But by time senior year rolled around. Things only got worse. But one thing did get better my parents you could say actually talked to me. Not really talk but more like tell again. My senior year my dad talked to me my first time in my whole life. But it was an order. Which I was not use to since their wishes were always told through a teacher too me. But this time it was from my father. And I still remember it clearly. That day he had come to my school in the middle of English and asked my teacher to talk to me. Which of course my teacher agreed too. Since the school couldn’t risk the chance of losing such a valuable donor. He took me outside and he told me that his law firm was one day going to become mine. So he wanted me to study law. Something he didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. After those two sentences were said he just handed me a big envelope and walked away from me. Walked away from my life. Something I was use too. My parents always walking away from me.
Inside the envelope was something that I could have easily guessed. Inside was a college acceptance paper to none other than my father’s former school Harvard University, a check for five-hundred thousand dollars, a set of keys, a address for were I was suppose to live, and a paper telling me were to pick up my car. Up to that point in my life I had never felt so alone in my life. Up to that point I actually thought my parents loved me and were only doing this stuff to me only because they loved me and only wanted the best for me. But in the that point in my life I finally realized that the fact was that I was nothing but a responsibility for them a drag and only a person too continue their blood line. To continue the Lee name. I felt like nothing. And for the first time in my life I cried. For growing up I was taught by my various martial art masters that crying was not allowed. Not even a consideration. For crying according them brought dishonor. Which I would say now is all BS. I never felt so alone in my life. My friends weren’t really my friends and my so-called my parents didn’t even….didn’t even I don’t know. But they weren’t my parents. Because parents were suppose to love their children no matter what.
Four months after my lowest point in my life. I traveled my six hour plane ride to Boston’s Logan Airport in Massachusetts. Their I picked up my Lexus the car my father had bought for me. And their following a map I drove the fifth-teen minute bumper to bumper car ride to my studio which offer looked the Boston Harbor. And on the other side their laid the Harvard University Campus. In the Southern District of Downtown Boston. There on the kitchen’s counter laid my schedule that my parents had chosen for me and all the books for my classes.
There really isn’t much too say about my first months at college. I did what I had to do. got good grades and kept to myself. I had no friends and I didn’t want any. But I guess you could say I didn’t know how to make friends. So I didn’t bother trying. I was depressed and miserable. And grew a cold heart.
Soon the New England harsh winter weather started. And I got use too it. But it was still cold compared to the hot weather that I was always use too. So everyday I would visit the local Starbucks that was only a street away from my studio. It was my normal routine. Wake-up, walk to star bucks, get coffee, read the newspaper and walk to school. But on one day I decided to go to star bucks after school for It was really cold and New England was just hit by a big snow storm. And on that day I met her. The minute I walked in I saw her and fell in love with her. But what was I suppose to do. I didn’t know how to interact with other people. And the only people I had talk to in the last months were teachers. Otherwise I hadn’t talked to a soul.
But after three months of just staring at her. I finally talked to her. I found out that her name was HyoLee and I soon found out everything about her. I found out that she was born to a single mother who struggled to raise her and had died during her junior year in high school to breast cancer. And ever since than she had taken care of herself. I found out she was taking classes at a local community college and wanted to travel the world and photograph it. I finally met a person who did what she wanted. And soon we became good friends. And soon we both fell in love. And we eventually moved in together. We were both in love and wanted to stay together forever.
And here I am now. Five years after I felt loved for the first time. Now I’m twenty-two and I’m still struggling to find my identity. But I don’t have to do it alone. And if your wondering ever since that May five years ago. I still haven’t talked to either of my parents. The only communication we have had. Is the check they send me every year.
I don’t know what my future holds for me. But I know I don’t want to do it alone.
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tell me business b4 pleasure..
but to me business is pleasure..
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04-28-2002 08:01 AM
[Fanfic] The Story of My Life / Part 3 of 3
