Family.
Family, huh!
Family is a social structure made up of specific individuals, if I were to define it scientifically.
We've heard such lines countless times. They're so familiar to everyone that they've lost all meaning. But this social structure doesn't always work the way we expect it to.
What I mean is we don't get to choose our family, nor are they always like the ones in fairy tales.
Of course, who wouldn't want to be born into the richest family in the world or the royal family of some nation?
"Meet the new prince of our kingdom."
Or,
"Now, my trillion-dollar company and wealth have an heir."
Kids born into those kinds of families are undoubtedly lucky. Every door is open for them.
Want a car?
"Dad, can I have a car?"
"Here you go, son. A brand new Mustang."
Want a palace?
"Dad! I want to buy this house."
"Of course!"
Who wouldn't want to be born into such a family? Probably only 0.000001% of the world's population is lucky enough for that, I think.
Still, there's no reason to be upset about being born into a regular family. After all, if you have a kind mother, a father who's always ready to help, and siblings who annoy you but love you—it's more than enough.
We're used to seeing families like that: middle income, small but cozy homes, everyone living together happily.
But despite all odds, my life didn't turn out that way.
I was born into what seemed like a regular family: a father (the breadwinner), a mother (a homemaker), a younger brother, and a little sister. We all lived together until I turned six.
Everything before six is full of warm memories. Everything after is dark and bitter.
Because at six, my father suddenly changed. He began drinking.
Every day he came home drunk, barely able to stand. Mom would see it and plead with him to stop.
"You've been drinking again?"
"Yeah, I've been drinking."
"You're setting a bad example for the kids again…"
"So what?"
"You're scaring them."
"Ha-ha! My kids are scared of their own father?"
"Don't shout, you'll wake them up. They're sleeping right now."
"Don't teach me how to live! I know what I'm doing!"
"Just talk a little quieter."
"Go wake the kids! I'll teach them not to fear but to respect their father! I said wake them up!"
"But they're asleep!"
"Do as I say!"
During these arguments, I'd sit behind the door, scared, listening to them yell. Sometimes it turned into physical fights, and Mom would end up with bruises on her face or body.
It was terrifying. Heartbreaking. In those moments, I'd go to my bed, curl up tightly in my blanket, and cry silently. That was my way of escaping.
But Dad would still wake me, my brother, and sister from our sleep and lecture us through the night.
My brother and sister, terrified, would start crying. Dad would scream at Mom to make them stop. Sometimes, he'd hit her right in front of us.
My siblings would come running to me in tears.
"Big brother!"
"Brother, I'm scared!"
Seeing them afraid, I'd wrap my arms around them.
"Don't be afraid. Everything will be okay."
This went on for a long time. To avoid it, I started spending my evenings outside. I didn't care what happened as long as I wasn't home to see them fight.
Eventually, Mom noticed. So she started sending me to sports clubs in the evenings so I wouldn't waste my time.
Until I turned twelve, I trained in sports until another fight at home made Dad demand I quit.
Still, I didn't stop. I kept going for evening runs, repeating my old training routines.
Even so, I had more free time now. So I began studying more, attending extra lessons.
Three years passed. I turned fifteen. I had spent the last three years learning and doing sports.
My hard work paid off; I became the top student at school.
But the family problems hadn't disappeared. Years of witnessing my parents' fights had worn me down mentally. I was exhausted, and I started to feel the desire to run away.
One day, I heard about a boarding school in the city center. It was known for its discipline, intelligence, and academics. It felt like a chance to rest, to get away.
So I took the entrance exam and passed with a high score. By fate, I was accepted. It felt like I was finally free.
The day I left for school.
I went to Mom.
"I got accepted to that boarding school I told you about. They said I can move into the dorm today."
"That's wonderful news! Congratulations!"
"So I'm leaving today. I just wanted to say goodbye."
When we stepped outside, Mom, my brother, and my sister saw me off.
"Travel safely! Text us when you get there."
"Okay, Mom."
"You all take care of yourselves too. Goodbye!"
Even with all my classes at boarding school, I still had free time left over. I tried using that time wisely—but even then, some remained.
To avoid wasting it, I started looking for ways to earn money. I began helping my fellow students with homework, summaries, anything they needed—for a fee.
It wasn't much, but it was something. Since the school covered food and clothing, I had no reason to spend the money, so I saved it.
Eventually, I graduated and took the entrance exam for university. I passed with high scores and was accepted on a full scholarship.
I was overjoyed.
'I can't wait to go home and share the news!'
I came home smiling. But as I walked up to the door, I felt something heavy in my chest.
'I've been so focused on school… I forgot about them.'
'I tried so hard to escape this place… that I forgot to even think about what might've happened to them.'
It was cloudy. Rain poured from the sky. Still, I walked to the door, holding flowers.
Ding-dong.
'I'll surprise them with a gift.'
I waited… but no one came. The sound of rain made it hard to hear anything inside.
'Why isn't anyone answering? Is anyone even home?'
Then, suddenly, I heard shouting from inside.
"When will you stop drinking?! We're sick of this!"
It was my mother—sobbing, screaming in pain.
I burst inside.
The house was cold. Dark.
What I saw froze me in place.
Dad was hitting Mom again, right in front of my brother and sister. Blood ran down her forehead. He held a glass bottle. My siblings stood frozen in horror.
'What the hell is this?!'
My heart stopped. I ran to her.
"Mom! Are you okay?!"
She lifted her head weakly.
"I'm fine."
"I'm taking you out of here." I helped her up.
Then… he blocked our path.
"Where do you think you're taking her?"
He could barely stand, reeking of alcohol.
"Somewhere else. Get out of the way!"
"She's not going anywhere!"
"That's not your decision!" I shouted and shoved him aside.
He stumbled and fell. I turned to my siblings.
"Get dressed. I'm taking you too."
They ran upstairs and returned with their clothes. I held Mom's hand and led them outside.
"Where are we going? We don't have anywhere…"
"Don't worry. Anywhere's better than this."
From the ground, Dad yelled:
"Stop! I said, stop—you little brat!"
I ignored him.
I took off my jacket and placed it over Mom's shoulders. The rain was pouring.
We stepped outside. I pulled out my phone and handed it to my brother.
"Call a taxi!"
As he opened the phone, Dad came running—furious—and grabbed me by the collar.
"None of you are leaving!"
In that moment, I let go of Mom. She fell to the ground.
I snapped.
"How long will you keep doing this?! Aren't you tired of torturing us?! Do you enjoy our pain?!"
He froze, then slowly released my collar.
"Leave us alone!"
My siblings stared at me, stunned. Their eyes were filled with fear.
'Even they're afraid of me now…'
It crushed me.
Tears welled in my eyes. I screamed into the sky:
"Why?!"
I stood there, eyes closed, letting the rain fall on me. It mixed with my tears.
When I opened my eyes, I noticed the clouds were changing.
'What's happening to the sky?'
Lightning flashed through the clouds. Then—
Right above us—
'Now—'
It happened so fast, I didn't have time to think. Everything went black.
***
Slowly, I regained consciousness. My eyes were still closed, but I could hear birds chirping and leaves rustling.
Then I opened them. The surroundings were unfamiliar. Trees. Plants.
I was lying in the middle of a forest.
'Where… am I?'
'How did I get here?'
'Where is everyone else?'