You don’t come home anymore
At best, I would describe the other kids as uneasy allies in a war against circumstance. We were all suspicious of each other, wondering who would steal what, who would be a bully, and who was the most likely to stab you.
Roaches
When I was five or six, I remember sitting by my grandmother in the small shanty that we called home, looking up at the towering hundred-floor-plus apartment buildings of Gangnam, South Korea.
She told me about her past and mine. “We were so excited at first when your mother found out she was pregnant. And then we found out you were a girl.”