February 2013, Buyeo, South Korea
Buyeo, Korea – a place where history and tranquility blend seamlessly, a town rich with heritage and scenic beauty. The winter air carried a crisp chill, but the warmth of family filled the home of Pyo Sang Mi. The eldest daughter of her family, Sang Mi, was born on February 9, 1994, and today, just a few days before her 19th birthday, she found herself surrounded by boxes and the bustle of moving.
It was February 4, 2013. Sang Mi was in her family's house, helping her parents pack up their belongings. The home, nestled amidst the serene landscapes of Buyeo, had been a haven of memories. As she folded clothes and wrapped delicate items in newspaper, her mind wandered through the years spent in this house. Despite the memories, she had never really liked the house. She saw the move as an opportunity to start fresh, to be different, and to make life better for herself.
"Mi-ah, can you please bring the boxes from the attic?" her Eomma called from the living room.
"Yes, Eomma!" Sang Mi replied, making her way up the narrow staircase to the attic. The wooden steps creaked under her weight, a familiar sound that echoed the many trips she had made up and down these stairs.
Meanwhile, her younger sister, Pyo Hye Jin, was playing with their aunt and uncle in the backyard. Laughter and shouts of joy drifted through the open window, a stark contrast to the melancholy of packing up a home. Hye Jin, only thirteen years old, was the light of the family, her infectious energy a constant reminder of the innocence and joy of childhood.
Sang Mi reached the attic and surveyed the cluttered space. Old photo albums, seasonal decorations, and forgotten toys were scattered around. She sighed, knowing that each item held a piece of their family history. She carefully lifted a dusty box labeled "Memories" and carried it down to the living room where her parents were sorting through their belongings.
Her grandparents, who lived with them, were seated at the kitchen table, sipping tea and reminiscing about the past. Her Harabeoji, a stoic man, shared stories of his youth in Buyeo, while her Halmeoni, listened quietly.
"Harabeoji, do you need any help?" Sang Mi asked, setting the box down and brushing her hands on her jeans.
Her grandfather shook his head. "No, Sang Mi. Just keep doing what you're doing."
Sang Mi nodded. She had always been the responsible one, taking care of her family and ensuring everything ran smoothly. Her Appa, a hardworking man, was busy labeling boxes in the hallway. He looked up as Sang Mi approached.
"Need anything else, Appa?" she asked.
He shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow. "No, Mi-ah. We're almost done here. Just a few more boxes and we'll be ready."
Sang Mi felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness about the change. She swore she would be different, seize this new beginning, and make life better for herself. The house they were leaving behind held many memories, but it also represented a part of her life she was ready to move on from.
As the day wore on, the house gradually emptied of its contents. The once lively rooms now echoed with memories of laughter, love, and the passage of time. Sang Mi felt a pang of sadness but knew this move was necessary for their future.
In the evening, as the family gathered for dinner amidst the boxes, Sang Mi looked around the table at the faces she knew so well. Her parents, grandparents, and little sister—all were together in this moment, and that was what mattered. Despite the changes ahead, they had each other.
After dinner, Sang Mi took a moment to herself, stepping out into the cool night air. The stars above Buyeo shone brightly, and she felt a sense of peace. Change was inevitable, but it was also a chance for new beginnings.
As she stood there, a thought crossed her mind. She decided to start writing letters—letters to her future self, to remember these moments, the love of her family, and the strength she found in times of change. With a deep breath, she vowed to cherish every memory and embrace whatever the future held.
She carefully placed the last of her books into a box, sealing it with tape. As she looked around her room one last time, a mixture of excitement and nervousness filled her heart. Moving to a new place meant leaving behind the bad memories and the negativity that seemed to linger in every corner of this old house. It was a chance to start fresh, to be different, and to make a better life for herself.
"Sang Mi, can you help your sister with her things?" Eomma called from the hallway.
"Yes, Eomma!" Sang Mi replied, wiping her hands on her jeans. She headed towards the living room, where Hye Jin was busy playing.
"Mi-ah! Help me pack my toys!" Hye Jin said with a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Alright, Hye Jin. Let's get this done," Sang Mi replied, smiling at her sister's enthusiasm.
As they packed, Sang Mi couldn't help but think about how her family seemed to pay more attention to Hye Jin. She often felt like an afterthought, just someone who happened to live in the same house. But she was grateful that she had a roof over her head and food to eat. It could have been worse.
When they finally finished packing, Sang Mi found a quiet corner in the now-empty living room. She took out a small notebook and began to write a letter to herself, something she had done many times before.
Dear Future Me,
Today, we are leaving this old house. I'm not really sad about it; in fact, I'm almost glad. This place holds too many bad memories and negative feelings. Moving away feels like a chance to start over, to leave behind the sadness and the times I felt overlooked.
It's always been clear that Hye Jin is the center of attention in our family. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just here, an extra. But I'm grateful that I wasn't thrown out, that I had a place to stay and food to eat. Maybe in the new house, things will be different. Maybe I can find my own place, my own way to be seen and heard.
This move is a new beginning. I swear to myself that I'll make the most of it. I'll be different and make my life better. I don't want to carry the negativity of this old house with me. It's time to move on.
Love,
Pyo Sang Mi
Sang Mi carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her treasured ornate box. Writing down her thoughts gave her a sense of closure and hope for the future. She stood up and joined her family outside, ready to leave the old house behind.
Her Appa, loaded the last box into the truck and looked at her. "Ready, Sang Mi?"
"Yes, Appa," she replied, giving the old house one final glance.
As they drove away, Sang Mi felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The city awaited, full of new possibilities and a fresh start. She was ready to embrace it and make her own path.
