One day, I will die. One day, you will die as well. We all need to make our mark on the world before then. Days will pass, years will pass, decades, centuries and milleniums will pass. I know that no matter what we do, time will pass, the people who remember us will die out as well and eventually it'll be like none of us ever existed.

But I'm not happy with that.

I want immortality. I want to be remembered. Anne Frank said she wanted to continue to live even after she died; now, decades after her death, kids study her story in classrooms. Jesus Christ? It's been two thousand years since he died, and his followers are still studying his life. That's what I want for myself. I want my time on Earth to mean something; I need something to leave behind.

And that is why I am writing this autobiography.

I was born May 29, 1989 in Seoul, Korea. My mother died of stomach cancer (I am unaware of her name) a year after giving birth but I never knew about it until I was 15. That's a story I'll get into later.

Anyway, my father (Yeh, Deokcheon. Cheon for short) is something like a doctor/chemist/pharmacist crap. I can't pinpoint what it is. But he graduated from the best university in Korea-Seoul University. That's the Korean equivalent of Harvard.

So obviously he didn't have time to parent. He would leave me with uncles, aunts, grandparents...all until I was three. That's when my dad got married again to Shin, Misook. Mind you, I never knew she wasn't my real mother. The family, apparently, agreed to tell me only after I turned 18...and so I grew up thinking my stepmother was my real mother.

"Professor...your daughter...she can read already!" exclaimed his students.

"Of course. She's my daughter-she's a genius." My dad responded.

"Soojin, you know who your father is." my 'mother' would say. "You know why he is so well respected, right? Others always address him with honor. He is a professor-a doctor who graduated from one of the best universities. He worked hard and beat his competition and earned this. That's why you can have stuff other kids can't. That's where you're gonna go to college. You work hard just like your father did, and carry on his honor. You wanna be respected and well off just like he is, if not even better."

My small 5-year-old self went into my room filled with Barbie dolls, books and toys and slipped into another new set of pajamas my aunt had bought me. It was eight P.M. I solved math problems out of my workbook until ten P.M. I practiced writing in cursive (yes, the Koreans have their own cursive for the Korean language) until eleven P.M. and practiced my violin until midnight. I wrote my required journal entry, read some of my books, and then gathered my work in my arms.

I nervously knocked on my "mother's" door, hoping my work was good enough. Some days, I left relieved. Other days...when I got too many problems wrong, or my handwriting was messy, or something else was off, I'd roll up my pants legs. My "mother" took out the rod we kept for times I got in trouble and I counted out each smack to my legs.

"One! Two! Three!"

Usually, by then I'd start crying...but I still stood there and "toughened" it out. I never got any less than a 95% on my school assignments.

Who would have guessed back then...that in ten years, I'd be failing all my classes?

In Asia, corporal punishment is the norm. As a matter of fact, if you DON'T beat your kids, that's considered abnormal. So obviously I received corporal punishment too. Before I go any further, it' a cultural thing and every kid I knew was treated the same. So please do not pity me. I did not pity myself. Hell yeah, I was scared, but I never thought of myself as 'abused'. I don't support it but...that's the way it was.

My father worked a lot. I usually never saw him during the day for he was pulling all-nighters at work. Either that, or he didn't come home until about midnight.

By Korean standards, we were very well off. My aunt (from my dad's side) would spoil me. She'd always buy me dresses, toys, and books. And every summer, I would spend my vacation time at my grandparents' grape farm. Damn straight! A grape farm-cows and everything. Apparently, when my dad was young, one of his chores was to round up the cows. I snuck grapes from there like crazy. I loved it there.

My half-brother (Yeh, Byoungchan. Chan for short) was born when I was five. We shared the same father. We had different mothers. You get what I'm saying. Most only children get jealous when a baby is born because hey're used to having all the attention. Not me. He was adorable-and I'd been wanting a sibling for a while. I fawned over him just as much as everyone else did, if not more.

"I was helpful today, wasn't I, grandma?" I'd ask her while wearing an apron too big for me. I doubt I really did anything that would have helped her out with the chores, but in my mind, I was as good as any housewife. My grandmother always nodded and told me that she wouldn't have been able to finish if I hadn't helped.

When we had family reunions my uncles and my dad would go tend to crops. Apparently when he was young, he was often excused from chores his brothers had to do because he studied harder than they did-and was most likely busy studying. But at a family reunion he had no choice.

The ride over to my grandparents' was a long one. The traffic in Korea is the same as it is in New York. I learned to get used to long car rides at an early age.

I never regretted taking those long trips. At grandma and grandpa's, I didn't have to study half as hard as I did with my parents. There was no rod to use on me. I could play within nature during the day, and before I went to bed at night my grandparents would tell me old Korean folk tales.

When my dad came back to pick me up...there was this one time I literally broke down and started sobbing. My grandma handed me a dollar trying to make me feel better, but I really felt like my heart was breaking.

They were my grandparents on my father's side. On my "mother's" side it was a different story. They lived in the city...not Seoul, but somewhere else I can't remember. This "grandma" had an attitude and temper worse than my "mom's". I'd get in trouble for not eating something. "Grandpa" usually wasn't around. All I know is that he had several large scars on him from surgery. They weren't my real grandparents, but I didn't know that back then.

On top of that, my "aunt" from my "mother's" side was completely different from my aunt on my father's. My real aunt on my father's side was the one who'd always buy me stuff and take me places. She was very religious and she took me to church although my parents held no interest in religion at the time.

The one from my "mother's" side was, in all honesty, a bitch. I recall one time when my seven year old cousin got hurt and she threw a book at her, saying that it was her fault for not being more careful. My other cousin, her son, even stood up for her, saying that it was justified because "women place importance on their looks".

My dad's side of the family always preferred me over my brother, while my "mom's" side always preferred my brother. At the time I didn't understand and didn't really care as long as I got to stay away from my "mother's" side of the family and visit my grandparents...but now that I look back, I see it now. I was the biological grandaughter/niece/whatever to my father's family, and my half brother was the biological grandson to my "mother's" side. He was their real son, and I was a stranger and my dad's side felt the same way about me.

Being my father's daughter, I had expectations to live up to. My father with his PhD's and all that...of course his daughter has to follow in his footsteps.

We had money, so I was enrolled in everything you could imagine in order to 'get ahead' of the other kids. Ballet (though I sucked), tutoring, piano, violin, everything. My grades had to be top-notch.

Korea is extremely competitive when it comes to education. It's unbelievable; nothing like it is in America. It's normal for high schoolers to stay in school studying until midnight. Education is everything. There's a lot of emphasis on discipline, hard work and dedication. I hear people here complain about a few hours of studying, but it's common in Korea for high school students to study eight or nine hours a day and not go home until very late.

That pressure was tough on me. Everytime I'd study or whatever, I'd shake because my stepmom would watch me. And if she didn't like something-uh oh, the broom again. Same with all of my activities...I was really paranoid about pleasing my parents. I hated brooms.

We moved around very often because of my dad constantly getting better jobs. the longest I'd ever lived in one place was two years. When I turned seven, my dad found another good job he wanted-this time, in America.

And so, we took a plane to California.

Ring. Ring. Dammit, I don't wanna answer that phone! I'm almost at the final level! Still, I pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Soojin." It was my "mother". "We're gonna be there to pick you up in a few, so get your bags and get ready, okay?"

"But mom!" I whined. "Not now! I'm playing this game, and I'm almost done!"

Silence on the other line. "We've been preparing for this the whole year! And you wanna delay us because of a video game?!"

"...Um..."

"Listen, do you want to go to America or not?!"

"Not until after I'm done playing this game..."

"Listen, when I get there, I'm gonna make sure you know how to set your priorities straight, you hear me?!"

Yup. Okay, stop laughing. That's what happened right before I went to board the plane. Was I nervous? No. I was a kid...and I had no idea what a drastic, life-changing event this was.

I'll never go back to Korea. I wouldn't be able to fit in. They look down on foreigners. Imagine how they'd feel about me-I can barely speak the language I was taught. I have pride in my heritage, but I strongly disagree with their moral beliefs and I wouldn't be able to live that lifestyle.