I ran away and reached the mountain I used to hike, as a child, with my father. I looked and saw the pond where my father taught me where to swim, and knew that this was the right spot. I didn’t have a shovel, so I got down on my knees and used my hands to dig underneath the nearby tree stump. As I cleared the dirt from a root, I found a small bag. Inside was a piece of paper, a passport, and a notebook. The paper was a letter from my father:
My dear son: If you are reading this I am dead. My enemies have become too powerful, and the Great Leader has become corrupt. You must cross the border to safety, even if it is without me. I thought my position would protect me, but I was wrong. You must escape to the land of the free, where you will not have to worry about who will betray you next. You must experience the joys and freedoms I never dreamt to have. Use the passport to cross the border, and the red notebook to gain American citizenship.
I looked at the passport, and saw the gold lettering spelling out the words, Republic of Korea.
I knew crossing the border to the South Korean was suicide: too many guards (and landmines!). I settled for crossing the Chinese border. I found a broker with the little money I had left. One day, while in the broker’s apartment, a police officer visited and asked who I was. I handed him the South Korean passport, and he flipped through it, and after checking, he left. Both the broker and I collapsed on the floor, relieved,
When I finally traveled across China to Mongolia, I was sent to South Korea. The South Korean officials asked me for any information. I said I would gladly give top secret information in exchange for passage to America. I handed over the notebook, filled with details about North Korea’s nuclear development sites. One week later, I was flown to America. Today, five years later, I am now swearing my oath for American citizenship. I will always remember my father, and the chance he gave me.