Naturally Beautiful

Prologue

The pimples on my face and the fat on my body is considered ugly. In South Korea, there are specific standards to beauty and weight. Even if you're all fat and brains, you won't be treated the same as the ones with beauty and no brains.

I am 284 pounds. I am seventeen years old. I am tan-skinned and around 5'3".

I read so many stories and watched so many stupid and lame movies that described people "only" being fat because of losing a loved one or being heartbroken so they end up overeating.

"Whatever!" I scoff every time I came across a "sad story."

I gained all this weight because of the delicious foods I ate.

I grew up never being skinny. I grew up eating and loving food my whole life. I never once cared what people thought of me. Let me live my life! Let me eat my heart out!

But as I walk by many places, I get looked down upon. People laugh at me or stare for long moments at a time. This is abnormal to people because according to the students in my school, I may be the heaviest person in South Korea.

I was thinking about moving to the States again when I officially became eighteen years old.

I am American born and want to continue living the American life because then, I can do what I want and be able to look like this without being judged.

The decision to move to Korea in the first place was due to my father's new wife living here. He was so obsessed with that old hag.

She seduced him and all he ever did was use our money on her. Finally, my mother was tired of my father's affair and committed suicide in our "warm" American home, leaving me helpless.

My father practically dragged me onto the plane with his new wife. He threw me into our new home in Seoul, Korea. I don't consider it home, but rather a creepy and awful prison.

My father used to be pretty wealthy. He owned a few minor companies in America. The old hag left his sorry butt with all the jewels and clothes and useless things he bought her. My father lost all the companies, making me grow up early to provide for myself.

I obtained a job at the age of thirteen as a food stocker. I then became a food server after a year. I am now a tutor at Helping The Need. This is where I met Hei-Ran. She's my best girl friend.

She looks a lot like Sandara Park, you know, the singer and visual in 2ne1. The only difference is that she is much younger than Sandara. 

Anyways, Hei-Ran is now nineteen, two years older than me.

She's like a happy child who throws fits when she doesn't get her way, but not in a bratty kind of way. Or maybe, depending on your point of view. She's just a simple and caring person in general.

Because of her naive compassion, I look up to her and respect her greatly. She was the only thing at the time that made me feel loved and made me feel like I had an actual sister.

At our workplace, Hei-Ran helps feed and clean-up after those with disabilities, usually elders or kids in wheelchairs who are too weak or sick to help themselves. I, on the other hand, help tutor kids with learning disabilities. 

Some children can't read or add simple math problems or maybe have a short attention span; so I'm there to help the need.

Like earlier said, I promised myself to move back when I turn eighteen. Only reasons I hesitate to leave is because of Hei-Ran and another person I consider a great brother.

Ever since I went to Seoul High School, about a few years ago, there was a boy named Yang Hoon. He became my best friend after Hei-Ran.

He told me jokes about skinny people and cheered me up every time someone made fun of me.

We first met when he came to pick up his five-year-old sister. She has learning disabilities and Hoon wanted her to grow up not feeling useless or "stupid."

After Yang So-Mi had her first session, I remember Hoon coming to pick her up. He looked at me as I gave So-Mi her homework.

He grinned brightly, "Dongsaeng, umm...thank you for taking care of my sister..."

He bowed politely and beamed like a little boy, clutching his sister's bag with his left hand and holding her hand with his right.

"I'm not your Dongsaeng...I don't know you well," I said.

"I know that...but I have a feeling we will be close though," He replied, "But not in a creepy way."

From that day on, we hung out and shared many interests.

He likes singing and playing guitar. I love rapping and dancing, though you may not want to see me do either. He loves the color black while mine is grey.

We both love making music, especially during the cold winter months when we would cuddle up by the bonfire outside of his house, playing guitar and just jamming to some good beats.

Anyhow, Hoon is a very appreciable and supportive friend.

He's gotten very tall over the few years, though he's slim. He wears really funky clothing too. You know, his usual thick brown jacket, striped shorts, and polka dotted socks with yellow flip flops and that red cap on his head, the back faced to the front .

Even when I move back to the States, I will keep in contact with Hei-Ran and that silly punk.