Made Easy

Chapter 1

I'd been feeling sick the moment I woke up this morning. My hands shook as I did the buttons of my shirt up, fingers wavered as I attempted to apply mascara, despite the fact I knew it would be smudged and blotchy in the next 24 hours. I could barely swallow an oat bar for breakfast, and when I did, I'd actually physically gagged. The taxi smelt like bad BO that made my stomach churn and when I'd got to my destination, the crazy volume made my head spin. But honestly, there had been only one thing terrifying me that morning.

Customs.

communicating with people is bad enough on my end, speaking to people who speak my own language. Even now, I have no clue how I'm going to be able to get my way through the customs at the end of the flight. Usually, I have someone here with me, but my father decided it would be fine, that his seventeen-year-old daughter could most definitely board a plane by herself. Under normal circumstances maybe. I don't think he understands my reasons although I can't expect him to- I've never told him. Now, I have to abandon my language completely. I have no idea what I'm going to do.

I sigh. Well, I have 11 hours to come up with a plan, I tell myself.

At the airport bookstore, I pick up a copy of 'Korean for dummies'. 

I will have to learn at some point, may as well be now.

* * *

I'm standing in the middle of security, wondering what the hell to do now. I see the convenient English translations of Korean signs and am not stupid enough not to read the arrows, but I can't move. I really can't. How should I do this? Should I pre-write something? What if he can't read English. Oh my God was that a really racist thing to think. No, no it's not it's perfectly understandable to assume someone not from an English speaking country doesn't speak English. Ugh, stop thinking so hard, just go over and-

"Excuse me?"

A man comes into my line of vision. He's in a suit and tie, and his friendly brown eyes hide behind black frames. His black hair is slicked back, taking years off his face. I'd say he's about mid-thirties, the late twenties with the hair.

"Valerie Anderson?"

I nod slowly.

"My name is SungJin. Your father's office sent me to make sure you get through customs okay. I silently thank the Lord and my father's efficiency.

"Thank you," I say, giving him a smile.

He leads me towards the first desk. As we stand in the queue, he makes conversation.

"I trust you had a safe flight? How was the food, typical aeroplane awfulness?" He smiles.

I nod, grinning at the same time to make up for my lack of words.

"Is this your first time in Korea?"

I nod.

"It must be a massive culture shock, huh?"

Another nod.

An awkward pause follows.

"Your dad told me you weren't very talkative."

I look down. Do I want to go as far as to explain this? The guy is trying so hard I feel so bad for not saying anything.

"I don't bite," He smiles again softly.

I recall my therapist's words. Just talk. The more you talk the easier it will get. Don't avoid it.  Avoiding conversation because you feel embarrassed is no way to go about it. You may think people will judge you, call you retarded but they won't. This isn't a movie. People will understand. 

Then he rather sternly added, Or you could just brave it up and talk.

People will understand huh? Coming from a fifty-year-old man. He doesn't know kids my age.

 I take my pad and pen from my bag and write.  "Sorry. It's not you, It's me. Don't worry about it. You seem really nice." I flash him a smile then flip the page. "I think if I wrote this whole time we'd get be stopping and starting all day- I suck at writing while walking."

He laughs. "Same for me and texting!"

We stop talking for a while as we, or he, speaks to customs in Korean.

* * *

Sungjin takes me to a car. He drives in the front while I sit in the back. He looks at me in the rearview mirror.

"Would it be prying If I asked why you don't talk?"

I look downwards. I really do not want to talk about it.

My mind flashes back to that day. I could hear yelling from downstairs even through my hard rock. I pause, putting down my pen and closing the textbook. There are two voices, my mum's and a man- not Dad. I go downstairs, hiding in the railing of the banister. It's so loud. I'm scared. I cast my eyes on the scene just iin time to see the knife, blood everywhere, seeping across the floor as if escaping the body. The person- winner if you wish- straddling their opponant, stabbing and stabbing.

And Laughing.

"Valarie!"

I'm snapped back to reality. Sungjin is beside me in the back seat. He's pulled over. I must have been panicking or something. His hands are on my shoulders where he was gently shaking me.

"Are you okay?"

I nod, breathing hard.

"I'm sorry," he hangs his head. I shouldn't have asked it must be hard for you I shouldn't have been so insensitive."

I shake my head.

Sungjin sighs in mild relief. I look him in the eye, seriously, I mouth, "Don't tell my Dad."

He nods understandingly. "Of course whatever you say."

And we get back on the road.