Draft+Three

10/4/09 7G ** Scribble, scribble. The sound of a Hello Kitty pencil scratching on a notebook filled the room. I still remember the time when I would look at my notebook and find myself staring at a clumsy drawing of a girl. Satisfied, I would hug the drawing and proudly show it to my mom. The green, old notebook never left my little hands, even if I was at a grocery store, shopping with my mom. This notebook was my favorite toy from childhood, or I should say, my best friend. I saw my notebook during a usual grocery shopping at Hyundai Department Store with my mom. It was a humid, hot summer day; I can still recall the nice warmth beating down on my face. The bustling crowd in the store somehow made the temperature rise. The young, innocent, 7-year-old me was skipping down the rows of goods, admiring everything I saw. But something //really// caught my dancing brown eyes -- a brand new green cover notebook. I stepped, frozen in my tracks. My mom called out my name, rolling the shopping cart and dropping purchases on the counter. But the little me grabbed the item off its place and scurried toward my waiting mom. She curiously stared at the notebook I was eagerly shaking in her face. After what seemed about a full minute, she chuckled, plucked the notebook out of my tiny fingers and handed it to the lady who held the barcode scanner. I jumped with joy and hugged my mom's leg gratefully. And that was just the beginning. I almost immediately began to doodle on it. Clutching a nearly worn out crayon, I drew and drew, not minding the fact my hands were aching. Soon, the empty pages were spotted with big and small drawings of mermaids, dragons and other legendary creatures. When my mom tried to take the notebook away from me, I would tightly hold it in my chest until she would give up and get back to her work. I spent most of my childhood drawing, probably the reason why I am so carefree now. The only time I would let go of it was when I was attending kindergarten or I was out at an restaurant. That's how much I loved the little notebook. Now, I couldn't just keep drawing and not care about what is happening out in the world. When I began to attend elementary school, I lost about 3/4 of my free time doing my homework and going to after-school activities. I didn't lose my interest in drawing though; I would still privately sketch few things on a page. As the number of the grade got higher, the less time I had for my favorite toy. When I was doing my load of homework, I would take a peek at the lonely notebook sitting in the corner of my desk and sigh. It was as if I lost my best friend. But the real climax barged in when my parents declared me, mom, and my brother were going to America. The first thought that came to my mind was, //"But I made so many friends! I can't leave them behind!"// then a sad wave of thought reminded of my forgotten notebook. No matter how much I begged my parents to stay here, they would just shake their heads and replied, "This will be a good experience for you." Every night, I would wait for the tears to come while holding my notebook. I kept the notebook's cover closed, for when I would look at the old drawings, nostalgia would crash in. At last, it was the day of leaving. The night before, I made a promise that I will come back and look for my notebook. Then, I tucked my best friend under my bed, where I kept my most important things. With a last look at Korea, I left the grounds, wondering what would wait in Rhode Island. Here I am now, back in my home country, South Korea, studying in Korea International School. Nobody expected for my life story to twist into a such complicated tale. Of course, when I arrived, I searched under my bed, only to find the tiny cargo empty. I have a smile on my face, caused by the film of memories going through my head. I have to tell you, that little notebook was a such admirable thing to me. It was my favorite toy of my childhood, no, my best friend in the whole entire world.
 * Lizzie Jeon