I don’t remember what the weather was like that day. Nor do I remember what time of the year it was. It took me hours in therapy carefully calculating my life, just to remember which year it was. I do remember the place though – SM city Megamall, Manila, Philippines, approximately four hours flight from Corea. It was a sprawling monstrosity of commercialism established to feed off the money of the wealthy and the sweat, tears and labor of the poor. It was an eight hour trip from my home – Zambales; now with the construction of highways it take four.

             Usually my brother, father, mother and I would walk hand in hand looking at electronics we had never even dreamed of, and food that we were too poor to afford. But that day, on that particular day, a new movie was out that my parents really wanted to see and the rating was too high for my brother and I. Hence, we all walked together to a child/daycare center. It was colorful; I remember yellows and reds and blues, but mostly, blue. Most kids (in developed countries) have been to the sort of place I am describing; now they’re in every McDonalds and Burger King big enough to be titled “family size”.

             My parents, being as concerned as they were about our safety, even took a tour of the place and decided that it was okay after seeing the science play/learning center. It was, in their eyes educational, as well as entertaining. I will say that it was educational.

             The workers/babysitters there wore yellow shirts, polos, and one of them wore a golden necklace chain around his neck. His hair was immaculately parted down the middle and greased to perfection. I hesitate, but honestly have, to say that he was a stereotypical 불량배, what you call in English – someone who’s “good for nothing”.

             Soon after we met we exchanged ages but not names. “Hey there, what’s your name?” ~~~

             He was nineteen. He thought I was cute. Of course, all children, tend to be cute at this point. Some times, I wish that I had been somewhat ugly. He followed me around, helping me up and down slides, holding my hand when I was jumping off little child platforms, and when I would skip off to places too small and young and innocent for him to come with me – he would complain, whine and ask me to come back.

             Initially, he just annoyed me. I wanted to play with my brother but he kept leading me to blue and deserted tunnels where the light was muted and the sound echoed.

             I don’t know how exactly he looked at me. Maybe like a crocodile looking at a gazelle, teeth glaring in a deceitful smile, passing judgment whether it would be easy prey or not. Maybe he looked at me through a child’s eyes – jealous of my carefree-ness, my exuberance and happiness. Or maybe he looked at me with anger reflecting off of the disgust he felt towards himself. I do not know, nor do I care to know what he was thinking in the hours previous and in the split second it took for him to ask me “Can I kiss you?”, or was it, “Do you want a kiss?”. I do know that I thought him a strange man for asking such a strange question. I gave consent – for that was what it was to him.

             I had been expecting a quick kiss on the cheek. It was wet. And it went on for a confusing amount of time. I could feel his large and rough tongue probing my lips open – I did not open them. He pulled away and asked me whether I had ever been kissed that way. I gave the obvious answer. No. He laughed then grinned. Today I hope desperately for his mental health that the fleeting expression on his face had not been triumph.

             Maybe my child’s heart had been a little smitten with this teenager; but I agreed to the proposal to be his girlfriend. And I also agreed to walk with him into a small blue closet away from the prying eyes that did not want us to be together.

             My parents asked if I’d had a good time, when they came to pick me up. I asked them what the movie had been about. They answered that I was too young to understand, that it was only for adults. But I had had my first kiss – and they were too old to understand.

Copyright of Seongsin Kim. Infringement will be prosecuted.