Park Young Gyu, Year
8, Taylor’s International School
The Visitor
A man would
visit every day in a grey uniform with shiny black buttons and medals on his
chest. He would march into our home and salute my father at exactly the same
time every day and my father would be waiting for him. I was bored all the time
so I watched them like a hawk and I found out that their timing was perfect, to
the second. In school, I could only say my father was a man in uniform because
I had no idea what his job was. I was ashamed because everybody else’s fathers
were businessmen or shopkeepers.
One day,
while I was waiting for the man in uniform with a watch in my hand, I noticed
that all his actions were exactly one second late. I compared the time on my
watch with that on the grandfather’s clock downstairs to make sure it wasn’t
late. The next day, the man came two seconds late and all his actions were also
two seconds delayed. This trend continued until the tenth day when we moved
out. I know that most people would not notice these things and would not think
they were related but I found it suspicious. I was told that we were moving
somewhere more peaceful and quiet so my father could work more efficiently. But
I was never told where we were moving to. I tried to stay awake on the train
and to guess where we were heading to but I fell into deep slumber. I woke up
in a soft bed with a window right next to it allowing sunlight to glare into my
face. I went downstairs to find my mother cooking and my father in his room
working. I was never allowed inside but I could hear voices and the sound of
typing on a typewriter.
A new
visitor comes now, at the exact same time the last one did, performing the same
actions. My father worked longer now and it seemed like he was getting more frustrated
every day. I asked him about it one day but he avoided the question and instead
told me I was very smart and observant. I realised he was hiding something from
me but I knew he would never tell me anything. I could see a column of smoke in
the distance and it never went away. Sometimes it was white and sometimes it
was black. Sometimes I even saw planes in the sky like massive birds but my
father made me stay inside. I wished I had someone to play with. A dog or a cat
would be perfect but my mother hated their fur. One day, I tried to talk to the
visitor but my father scolded me and the visitor just ignored me. The visitor
didn’t visit the next day and I was worried he got into trouble because I tried
to talk to him so I questioned my father about it but he said I had nothing to
do with it.
My mother
and I were going to leave for an even more “peaceful’ place but I reckoned it
was going to be even more boring. Father would stay. I tried to convince him to
come with us but nothing could change his mind. We got on a train very
different from the last one. It was much smaller and less comfortable but
nonetheless I fell asleep. I woke up to loud and scary noises that I found out
were sounds of planes. We went into an airport which was pretty much empty and
arrived at an airfield which was also empty except for one plane. We got on the
plane with a few other people who looked tired and anxious. I dozed off again.
Father used to tease me saying that I was a pig because I always fell asleep.
I felt a
thud and heard tire squeals which woke me up. We got out of the plane and were
greeted by hot wind even though it was still April. I looked around and saw
many tense and anxious people. I noticed a car heading towards us. It stopped
in front of my mother and me. We got in and left for a new life of secrecy. My
mother wouldn’t let me mention my father’s name again.
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