Two Men's Diaries by Eric K. Mun

There’s a guy sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper …

(The boy’s side - Son)

I am an orphan. I was adopted when I was nearly five years old. Now I am 17, and was raised for over 10 years by an old white couple. About a decade ago, they met a little boy at a local orphanage. The boy had beautiful brown eyes, but those filled with much sadness. They both felt they must protect those little eyes, so they decided to adopt me. This is what I’ve heard from them. Anyway, my adopted parents have been taking care of me with all their hearts, and gave me an opportunity to live with “parents.” In short, this is definitely the luckiest part of my life.

           

I am bi-racial.  Speaking of my birth parents, I don’t have much memory of them, and now I can’t even picture their faces. But I can think back to the old days. First, my mom was an Asian woman and my dad was an African-American soldier. Second, they often fought loudly at night.  And third, I saw my mom murdered brutally on her bed when I got home from school, but my dad was gone. Cops took care of me until I was moved to an orphanage, and my dad never found me. Those were pretty much all of my memories. And that was the day I lost my parents simultaneously.

I still can’t forgive my dad, and I don’t understand why he killed my mom. I strongly believe they were fighting again on the day she died. My dad probably couldn’t control himself and killed her; then he ran away forever. My dad is a terrible murderer. Also, he abandoned my mom and me. But what I’m really mad about is that I miss that man so much. My adopted parents are the most precious people to me. Also, I am deeply grateful for what they have done for me. But, you know, I feel pain and emptiness whenever I see our family picture. It makes me realize that I am not their real son. I definitely know I shouldn’t think this way. I hate myself.

           

It is raining softly. I have no idea why I feel so gloomy today. I think I have to go take a walk or something. This chair is little wet, but it doesn’t matter. There is no sunshine, but I can see some people out there. Oh, I see there are two lovely girls playing baseball, and their dad is sitting on a bench watching them. How adorable! I can’t imagine how happy they feel to be with their family. I wish that I wasn’t born at all. Then I wouldn’t be in any pain.

Well, it is okay. Today I am free from all these pains forever. I am pretty nervous. I never knew a gun was this heavy. I know my mom will never forgive me up in heaven. But my life ended already since my two precious people were gone. I can’t live any longer without you, mom. Farewell…

(The man’s side - Father)

I feel mortified. I was falsely charged with murder. I had unjust punishment for 13 years in prison. I’ve nearly gone mad with vexation, but no one trusted or listened to me. An unknown stranger killed my wife, and I also lost my little son. I could never accept this truth. But everyone said it was true. I must have my life back. It is the day. Today I was released from prison because the court finally proved that I was innocent. Now, I got to go find my son. I hope it is not too late.

I was a promising soldier. I had been in service for 12 years and four months since I was 19 years old. I became a captain in five years and commanded a company that included 480 soldiers. I earned a couple of decorations, and one of them was given by the president. All the chiefs trusted and supported me with unlimited confidence. At that period, my wife and I were arguing frequently because I got an order to dispatch my troops to Iraq. She was always proud of me, and she wanted me to keep the honor as a soldier. To be honest, I didn’t want to do that because I would be discharged in six months, but I had to agree to two more years of contract if I went to Iraq. I just wanted to stop living as a soldier, and I wished to spend more time with my family. Most importantly, this country wasn’t my priority anymore since my son was born. I didn’t want my family to have to move every two years as my battalion was moved. Also, I didn’t want to come back home anymore while my wife and son were sleeping. I just wanted to become a normal daddy and husband who could share this short life more often. That was all I wanted.

It was May 18, 1989. It was my son's 4^th birthday. Colonel Mike dismissed us early, so I was heading home with a gift for my boy. When I was nearly home, there were numerous military police and a couple of ambulances in front of my house. They arrested me as soon as they saw me. They claimed that I had killed my wife, and also there were a couple of witnesses. Moreover, they said they found my fingerprints on a bloody kitchen knife. Everything was perfectly matched to make me a suspect. My direct chief, whom I gave devoted service to for a decade, turned his face away and ordered me a dishonorable discharge. The cops didn’t give me a chance to wait for my son and just threw me in the prison. Thirteen years have passed. I swore revenge against the world at first. I had lost my wife, my little son, and my life. But now, there is no revenge. I just want to find my son. And I will ask him to forgive me for leaving him alone so long. If he does, I promise I will protect him for the rest of my life.

It is raining softly. The heavens probably feel pity for me. This chair feels little wet, but it doesn’t matter. It feels pretty awkward to read the newspaper sitting on a park bench. I see some people out there, even though it’s raining. And I don’t want those two girls in front of me getting colds. Everything is pretty similar to the old days. Anyway, I need to check all the local orphanages first. God, my son must be 17 this year; he’s already a man! He probably got taller, just like that boy sitting on a bench. I promise I will give a big hug whenever I can get to see him. Well, it’s time to go check the nearest two orphanages.  

Jesus! Somebody shot a gun. It was the boy. That boy shot himself. I got to get going quick. I shouldn’t be involved with any problems now, and I can’t spend even a single minute for other people’s lives. I didn’t see anything. I got to go. Let me leave…