Hello…
My name is Hae-du.
I am a Korean girl of Arab descent. I grew up and lived in Korea, but my story did not begin there… It began somewhere else, in a time when war swallowed everything.
I was born on March 20, 2003, in Baghdad, a city plunged into chaos by war. That day, the world was far from a safe place for a newborn… yet I came into it anyway.
My mother was Korean… and my father was Iraqi.
They met while working at a foreign base, where my father also worked. My mother always says their story began with a simple glance that turned into a great love.
But that love did not last.
Before they could marry… before my father could even meet me… he passed away, leaving me with my mother and only the memory of a brief love.
After that, my mother had no choice but to leave her work and move elsewhere.
And there… my life began.
Years passed quickly.
But my childhood was not like that of other children. Sometimes, I feel as if my childhood was a long horror drama; just when you think it's over… another chapter begins.
When I was five, my mother remarried.
To be honest… I don't really remember her wedding day.
But my first real memory of him is when I was eight.
I was a somewhat spoiled child back then. When I wanted to take a bath, I would always go to my mother and ask her to bring me clothes. It was a very normal thing for a child my age.
But… there was something strange.
A feeling I didn't understand at the time.
I always felt like someone was watching me.
I wasn't sure… and I didn't understand that feeling.
I was just a child, so I ignored it.
But that feeling never went away.
Years went by, and I turned eleven.
At that age… the first incident happened that truly turned my life into that horror drama.
One day, I heard loud noises coming from my mother's room.
It wasn't unusual for my mother to be hit—her husband often abused her. But my mother always endured silently.
She never screamed… never asked for help.
But that night, his voice was louder than usual.
I slowly opened the door.
What I saw there… I will never forget.
My mother was on the floor, blood flowing from her head.
My body froze in shock.
But despite my fear, I ran to push him away from her.
I was just a child… but I wanted to protect her.
What happened next… was far worse than I imagined.
He grabbed my hair roughly, lifted me, and threw me to the floor.
Then he started hitting me with something like a wooden stick.
One strike…
Then another…
And another…
My body quickly became covered in bruises.
It hurt so much…
But what hurt me the most wasn't the pain—it was my mother's silence.
Was she shocked…
Or scared…
Or simply unable to do anything…?
I didn't understand back then.
I was just a child.
So… I said nothing.
My mother took a few days off school for me, claiming I was sick.
But in reality, I stayed in my room almost a whole month until my body healed.
From that day… fear took root inside me.
I was afraid of my mother's husband.
But strangely… I worried for my mother more than myself.
Years passed, and I turned seventeen.
During those years, I always tried to avoid my mother's husband—not for myself… but to protect her.
Outside the house, my life was completely different.
At school, I was a strong girl… sometimes social, sometimes quiet.
Even I didn't fully understand my own personality.
But I had only one friend…
A very close friend, someone precious to me.
At the time, I didn't know… that this friend would later save my life.
Her name was Ji-hye.
She lived next door to us.
We became friends in ninth grade.
We shared many moments together, but most were brief, between returning home from school.
My mother didn't allow me to go out much.
Ji-hye never asked why.
Perhaps because she was shy… or maybe she sensed that there was something I didn't want to talk about.
But one Friday…
Something unexpected happened.
My mother needed to visit my grandmother, and her husband said he was going to see his brother.
So my mother left the house in the evening.
It was seven o'clock.
As soon as she left, I went straight to my neighbor's house and knocked on the door.
But the person who opened it… wasn't Ji-hye.
It was a young man in a military uniform.
I froze for a moment…
Then I remembered what my friend had said about her older brother.
It was him.
He was nearly 190 cm tall, with a strong, impressive build.
For a moment… I stared at him without realizing it.
It was the first time in my life I had looked at someone for so long.
I thought to myself:
"Why is he so handsome…?"
A little embarrassed, I said,
"Hello… is Ji-hye here?"
He answered quietly,
"Yes."
Moments later, my friend appeared behind him.
At that time… I had no idea… that this quiet young man…
Would later become the most important person in my life.
His name was… John.