Growing Up in Ferngrave [A Seventeen Fanfiction]

Chapter 1: Preschool and Dr. Dolittle

I was just the right age to attend preschool when my family had decided to move to America from Korea. My mother couldn't have been more delighted, because this meant that I would be completely fluent in English, something she wasn't. My mother always was like that, wanting me to succeed beyond her and my hardworking father. Of course, attending my first day of preschool was frightening; even though I was only four years old, I was able to comprehend that I looked different than my classmates. And it didn't help that my last name was a verb in the English language. For the first few weeks of preschool, I was known as the funny-sounding 'Do' girl.

•

The girl with blonde curls giggled, her hair bouncing with her, when she saw the way you wrote your name in the sand. "Do? What kind of last name is that?"

A redheaded girl beside her pointed at the letters on the ground, that she actually did not know how to write but you did. "And what's that little square thing and line thing?!"

You stood motionless over your creation, stick withdrawn at your side in slight embarrassment. "My...name...hangul."

"Hangul? What's that? Sounds weeeiirrdd!" The blonde girl continued to giggle tantalizingly, only furthering your shame.

"Do! Like Dr. Dolittle!" The redheaded girl exclaimed, causing the other girl to nearly fall over in her mirth. "I saw it in Mama's book once!"

"Dolittle! Dolittle!"

•

Looking back on it, Doctor Dolittle wasn't the most horrible name to be called; but that didn't mean I wasn't upset about being labeled as the girl with a weird name.

•

You dropped your stick completely and continued to dwiddle your fingers. What could you say? Your English was incredibly limited; and even if it wasn't, nothing could have prepared for the ridicule you were experiencing right now. Not even your mother's constant praising.

"Hangul! Korea! Korea!" A voice piped up behind you. Through blurry eyes, you turned and wiped your eyes when you saw a little boy, Asian like yourself. His cheeks were plump and extremely red, that was the first thing you noticed about him. His English seemed to be worse than yours, but he still continued to speak and walk to the two girls. With both hands on his hips, the boy smiled broadly. "Hangul is...from...Ko-Re-Ah!"

You blinked in awe at how large this boy's disposition was. Even though he spoke slowly and thickly accented, his pride seemed to show through his words. The two Caucasian girls seemed less than impressed though, more so perplexed if anything.

"What?" The blonde girl crossed her arms. The boy continued.

"Korea! Home! That—name—Do!" He pointed to your last name. "Mine Boo!" Ah, so he was Korean too.

"Boo? As in, ghosts?" The redhead questioned.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands out. "Ghost—scary—boooo!"

The two girls giggled, and so did you. Maybe if you could be as bright as this boy, you wouldn't feel so bad about your name. So, completely on a whim, you stepped forward and wrapped an arm around the Boo boy. "Do and Boo!" You grinned broadly when the boy nodded along and wrapped an arm around you two.

"You two are funny!" The girls clapped together at the two of you.

•

That was how I met my first friend, Boo Seungkwan. Last name Boo. First name Seungkwan.

•

Of the forty students in your class, there were only three Asians, all Korean. There was you, the Do girl. Seungkwan, the Boo boy. And a boy who had a thick lisp named Kim Mingyu. Following the day Seungkwan saved you from tears on the playground, the pair of you had been stuck at the hip, known across your classroom as 'Do and Boo.' While you still got teased for your name, you didn't mind so much anymore, having earned a friend who was similar to you. As for the other Korean kid, you and Seungkwan would meet with him at your own home the next week.

Your mother, delighted at the prospect of you earning your first friend, quickly invited Seungkwan over for regular playdates. And it was during one of these playdates that your mother brought in Mingyu. Truthfully speaking, Mingyu was a nice classmate of yours, but you and Seungkwan often steered clear of him. This was due to the fact that Mingyu, unlike the pair of you, had never visited Korea in his life and was third generation Korean-American, so his English was a lot better than yours.

•

Now that I recall, it was probably my mother's plan all along to invite Mingyu over from next door simply because of his language skills. After all, what would be a more good influence than a Korean boy who could speak English so well?

•

"You guyth ever heard of Thpiderman?" Mingyu spoke with a broad grin, his skin glowing with the light of your room. You and Seungkwan peered at each other skeptically. Hearing English being spoken was one thing, but to hear it with a lisp was another.

However, Seungkwan was always one to be daring and try his best. "Th...Thopi—doh—man?"

Mingyu shook his head. "No, Thpiderman." He repeated it slowly as if it would make a difference. Seungkwan only shook his head, showing his lack of understanding. Mingyu peered around the room carefully, before his eyes spotted something that made them brighten. Reaching down onto the ground, he picked up a spider that was crawling across the room. "Like thith one!"

Upon sight of the arachnid, you and Seungkwan collectively screamed. "Thopidoh?!" Seungkwan pointed at the insect as he screamed.

Mingyu nodded, unfazed by yours and Seungkwan's reactions. "Thpider!"

"Thopidoh?!"

"Thpider!"

"Th...pider." You repeated cautiously.

Mingyu nodded fervently, only becoming happier with your understanding. "Mmhmm!"

•

It will always be funny to me that for the first few months of my speaking English, I did so with a lisp. It only look me so long to realize that speaking English with a lisp was a lot different than speaking it with the appropriate phonics. But I will always be grateful for Mingyu and his generous nature. Without him, Seungkwan and I might've not been able to make it through our first year in America as easily as we did.