The typical immigrant story starts with memory back to zero, and an empty mindset. As I settled on US ground, a sense of wildness overcame me. No tall buildings, no apartments, and no one walking on the street. Unfamiliar scenery did not prevent me from charging forward, discovering the definitive boundaries of the unknown.
I walked into the small metal door that seem always to be shut tight, and entered into a dim living room with simple yet complete furnishings. Ran over a girl staring at me as if I was an object, trailing behind an older brother with no emotions on his face. What met my eyes were four slanted eyes on blank faces with no expressions of warmth and welcome.
My mother lead my luggages and slowly descends to the dim basement. In a room with no windows, we were situated with a provided full size bed. "You guys can temporarily stay here for a while." A pity help which mother responded with cheerful thank-yous to sweeten people up. I stood there, feeling uncomfortable with crushing celling and sticky carpet, dim lighting and stuffy air. I knew we had no choice but to stay there for a while, but I did not know that my mother was able to get us out of there just a month later. I knew I cannot complain about anything in my relatives place since I was a guest, but I did not know that they had so many things to say about me. I knew that I have to get use to this place very soon, but I did not know that a couple of years later I can stay goodbye to this town forever.
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