Hey everyone, ELF here.

This came to me randomly a few months ago and I decided to try the idea on for size. I did a lot of research before writing this, and I tried to be as accurate as possible. Obviously there will be inaccuracies because we don’t really know what really goes on in North Korea for ordinary citizens, but I did my best. I did take some poetic license with certain parts and I hope you can still find it believable.

If anyone is interested in helping people in North Korea, I recommend checking this website out. I also highly recommend Nothing to Envy, by Barbara Demick which is a really excellent book about North Korea.

I think that’s all I have to say, so I hope you like this story! Please comment your thoughts when you’re done and if you see any inaccuracies or have more information on life in North Korea, please let me know. Thanks!

Jaehwan looked out his dark window at the street, breath fogging the cold glass, squinting slightly to try to see the people walking below his fifth story apartment bedroom. There weren’t many; most were already home for the night, huddled in coats against the winter chill and warming hands over their kitchen fires. The electricity hadn’t gone on today and consequently neither had the heat. Jaehwan considered himself lucky that he even had a coat to wear—his cousin Hongbin had to share with his mother.

“Jaehwan, it’s time to eat.”

“Coming.”

Jaehwan picked himself up off the floor and shuffled his way into the kitchen, where his parents and one of his two older brothers were waiting for him. His father began giving out small bowls of rice mixed with various other grains to everyone and each got a bit of cornmeal and kimchi to go with it. Jaehwan refrained from pulling a weary face at the same fare they’d been eating for the past month. He had to confess, to no one but himself, to stealing some noodles from a peddler a few days ago out of hunger; luckily the man hadn’t noticed him and he’d gotten away without a beating and a prize of sweet, hot noodles in his hand all to himself. The warmth in his belly against the winter cold was enough to make the risk worth it.

The four members of the Lee family stood and bowed at the portraits of Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il, and Kim Jong Un, thanking them graciously for the meal they were about to partake in. Jaehwan saw Jaehyung give him a quick wink, making him grin, before their father sat down and they began their meal.

“How was work today?” Their mother asked their father quietly over the muted sound of worn chopsticks clinking in chipped rice bowls.

“It was all right. We’re getting paid tomorrow.”

There wasn’t much more to be said at the table, and they finished their meal in silence. Jaehwan’s mother gave her husband a quick smile before pulling something out from the counter behind her. Jaehyung and Jaehwan’s eyes opened wider than the empty rice bowls in front of them.

“That’s...you got us an apple??” Jaehwan leapt up and started dancing around the table, arms flailing around in excitement. His mother hushed him, warning him of the neighbors, but smiled all the same.

“Yes Jaehwan, I got us an apple. Sit down so we can enjoy it.”

Jaehwan grinned at her and attempted to give one more leap of happiness, but a fit of coughing interrupted him. They came from deep in his lungs, which rattled with every breath. He rubbed his chest, wincing in pain as he sat down, coughing and choking. His mother silently handed him a cup of water and he took several sips and cleared his throat before he got his breathing under control.

“Don’t worry about me.” He said as cheerfully as he could, noticing his parents’ glances at each other, and Jaehyung’s concerned look. “Let’s eat.”

*          *          *

“Jaehwan is getting worse.”

Jaehwan was supposed to have been in bed long ago, as he was expected to be in school the next day. Instead he found himself eavesdropping on his mother’s whispers outside the paper-thin door of his parents’ bedroom.

“He’s just going to have to manage.” Jaehwan could hear the caution in his father’s tone and could only imagine him looking around for people pressing their ears against the window.

“This cold aggravates that cough, it’s been going on for months now! I don’t want to send him to the hospital, since we can’t afford that either.” Jaehwan went cold at the thought of going to the hospital, where he and his parents would be responsible for his food, bed, and heat. He didn’t want to put them through that and thought about pushing the door open to tell them.

“I know, but he’s a strong boy. He’ll learn to survive.”

“I don’t want him to survive, I want him to live. The boy is only sixteen, I don’t know if I—”

“Yeonmi!” Jaehwan jumped at the sudden rise in his father’s tone, which lowered again a second later. “How could you say such things? The Supreme Leader will get us and our sons through this, you know that. Our country is going through a tough time, but we must all endure until things get better. I have...absolute faith in our Supreme Leader.”

There were a few more murmurs from Jaehwan’s mother before the room was silent, and Jaehwan crept back to his own sleeping mat.

It was true though, he thought as he crawled under his thin sheet, still wearing his winter coat. There was no reason to believe that The Supreme Leader, their one and true Father, would not get the country through the hard times and come out greater than before. He had trust, even if his mother did not. He supposed he should tell her in the morning to not be skeptical of The Supreme Leader, even in the privacy of their home; one never knew who would be listening.

Just last month he had witnessed the deportation of his neighbor Hakyeon’s family. His mother had expressed the opinion that The Supreme Leader might not be doing the job he should be. Jaehwan had gone with Hongbin to her public execution before watching silently as soldiers drove Hakyeon and the rest of his family away to a labor camp. He recalled with vivid clarity the tears shining on Hakyeon’s face and the pure terror with which he was shaking as he got onto the military jeep. Jaehwan had seen his hands trembling as he helped his sickly father onto the vehicle and put his thin arm around him, whispering reassurances into his and his little sister’s ears.

He knew he’d never see his friend again and he tried not to think about it, especially considering The Supreme Leader could very well be listening to his thoughts right this minute. Jaehwan immediately redirected his mental wanderings into safer waters, thinking about school the next day and how he was going to Wonshik’s house tomorrow evening.

It was a good thing they lived here, on the outskirts of Pyongyang. He could only imagine how much worse the punishments for disobedience would be had they hailed from America or South Korea. Just the thought of living in those apocalyptic countries made him shudder with gratitude for his small apartment, pillow under his head, a loving family, and a wonderful, capable ruler. He’d heard horrible things about the rest of the world from the speeches Kim Jong Un made over the radio and echoing in the streets in the morning, and was eternally happy he had such a strong country that everyone else feared to call his home.

With that comforting thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep.

It seemed only seconds later that Jaehwan opened his eyes to the resonating voice of the morning radio broadcast outside his window into the empty streets below. He only knew one person who owned a car and they hadn’t used it since it ran out of gas a year ago. It was still parked outside their apartment building, slowly gathering rust and small animals invading it’s insides.

Jaehwan dragged himself tiredly around his room, using the water in the bucket next to his mat to wash his face, and changed into a fresh uniform for school, occasionally breaking into a cough or two.

His mother greeted him absently as she polished the three portraits of Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il, and Kim Jong Un on their family room wall with the special cloth designed for that purpose. His father and brother had already left at least an hour before. Jaehwan bowed to the portraits and said good morning to his mother before sitting down to the bowl of cornmeal and kimchi waiting for him. He shoveled it in his mouth thinking that if he ate it quickly he could trick his stomach into thinking it was full. He kissed his mother goodbye as he left for school, knowing she’d be leaving for work soon also.

Jaehwan hummed to himself, barely aware of the blaring noise of the radio penetrating the empty streets all around him. He swung his schoolbag from hand to hand as he walked the familiar streets and didn’t care that he was supposed to be wearing it on his back. The sun was glinting on the badge depicting Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il’s faces on his school blazer, a rare occurrence, and it was making him feel undeniably cheerful, more so than he had for a long time. The walk was as long as ever, since the trains were sporadic at best and nonexistent at worst, but the warmth on his cheeks made it more bearable.

“Good morning Wonshik.” He bowed to his friend when he arrived at school and received a bow in return as he sat in his seat.

“You’re coming over after school, right?”

“I’ll come later this evening, I have to be there when my mother gets home.”

“All right.”

The low chatter in the classroom instantly ceased when the teacher walked into the room, and every student straightened their posture with hands folded on the desk in front of them. The lesson began immediately, and there was no talking allowed unless specifically asked. Jaehwan took attentive notes on their North Korean history lesson, though most of it was information he’d already learned. This was followed by Math and English, his favorite and least favorite class respectively; he hated having to learn the western language, symbolic of a country that went against every communist teaching he’d ever learned. Each lesson was sprinkled liberally with praises for The Supreme Leader and warnings against the American bastards.

Lunch and afternoon classes went by quickly, followed by assembly and marching practice. Jaehwan waved goodbye to his friends before heading home to see his parents. He shivered in the cold and wrapped his coat tighter around him; the sun was long gone by now and there were snowflakes coming down from the monotone grey sky. He stopped for a few moments to catch a few on his tongue, laughing to himself in delight as the pinpricks of cold melted in his mouth.

When he got home, the apartment was dark and empty. He flipped the switch on the wall to find that the electricity hadn’t gone on again today and his breath rose in front of his face with no heat on. Years of this had made him into an expert at making fires, however, and he had one going in the kitchen in minutes. The sky outside was getting dimmer, the flames in the fireplace casting dancing shadows through the room.

The door opened and his mother walked through looking exhausted. Jaehwan took her bag from her, not bothering to help her with her coat as she would probably be keeping it on.

“I’m going to Wonshik’s house, okay?”

He saw a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. “Don’t be gone long, Jaehwan. Be back before dark.”

“He lives just down the street.” Jaehwan chided, giving her a brief peck on the cheek. “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t look convinced.

Five minutes later he was knocking on Wonshik’s door. He thought he heard someone call for him to come in and he pushed the door open. “Hello?”

The first thing he noticed was that their light was on and he felt the blessed heat in the air, which meant they had electricity. He wanted to stay all night rather than going back to his own frigid apartment. The second thing he noticed was Wonshik and his mother sitting on their threadbare couch with something on his mother’s lap and they were laughing quietly at a glowing screen.

Every atom in Jaehwan’s body seemed to melt in shock. “Wonshik!”

His friend’s head snapped up and his mother’s face went white so quickly Jaehwan thought she might faint. Both of them fumbled with the machine, stowing it quickly under the couch cushions.

“Jaehwan! I didn’t know you were here! I’m so sorry, I should have been watching out the window for you, were you waiting long, when did you knock?” Jaehwan tried to interrupt but Wonshik went babbling on as his mother bustled into the kitchen, her face now flushed pink. “That math lesson today was really interesting and I think I finally get that bit Mr. Kim was talking about yesterday—”

“Wonshik...” Jaehwan backed away as if in fear of infection. “What. Was. That?”

His friend his lips nervously and ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Wonshik, enough. You know he saw it.” His mother reentered the room looking resigned.

Wonshik hung his head. “My sister smuggled it in from China,” he whispered. “It’s a DVD player and a few South Korean dramas.”

This was so outrageous Jaehwan didn’t even know where to begin. He was watching videos from that cowardly state run by Americans? What on earth was he thinking? The most Jaehwan could do was stand there clutching the doorway and stare at Wonshik, who looked the same as ever, if slightly more terrified, but for some reason he didn’t look like the friend he knew anymore. He didn’t think his comrade would ever break the law so seriously and he wanted to flee from the scene of the crime, but he couldn’t make his legs move an inch.

“We understand if you want to turn us in.” His mother said quietly, eyes on the floor. Jaehwan closed his mouth and thought for a moment. He’d always been a loyal citizen; it was his duty to turn them in. They had every right to expect to be sent to a prison camp at best and executed at worse. But he and Wonshik had always been friends—before Hakyeon had been sent away, the three of them used to ride their bikes through the streets and steal fruit from black market vendors when they weren’t looking. He would always share his portion with Hongbin, who never wanted to come because Hakyeon annoyed him, and try to avoid a scolding from his brother.

Wasn’t this just as bad? No, this was worse. Wonshik just spoke treason against the regime! But he was his friend...

“I...I won’t turn you in. That’s what happened to Hakyeon.” He said, cringing inwardly as the words made him an accomplice to something worse than murder.   

“Oh thank you Jaehwan. We owe our lives to you.” Wonshik’s mother bowed low to him and he nodded uncomfortably. He sat stiffly on the couch next to Wonshik and glanced at where the DVD player was hidden as though it would jump out and bite him with its democratic ideals. But the longer he looked the more curious he became.

“What were you watching?” He whispered as quietly as he could. Wonshik looked at him slightly suspiciously and Jaehwan opened his eyes wide to show he wasn’t going to use the information against him. “I’m just curious, I swear.”

The corners of Wonshik’s mouth turned up into a tentative smile. “It’s a drama my mother likes called Boys Over Flowers.”

Jaehwan tested the words on his tongue; they sounded strange to him. “Boys Over Flowers...”

It seemed Wonshik couldn’t contain his exhilaration and just started talking about it without prompting from Jaehwan. “Jaehwan, it’s so weird, South Korea is nothing like I ever thought it was!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not bombed out and the people aren’t suffering, for one thing. They’re rich, and have nice clothes, and lots of food and electricity and running water and everything!”

Jaehwan clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shhh!” He hissed, eyes darting around the apartment for prying neighbors. “What if someone could hear you? That can’t be right. It’s probably a propaganda video you’re watching or something.”

“It’s not!” Wonshik insisted, voice muffled through Jaehwan’s hand. His eyes were unnaturally bright and his hollow cheeks were glowing with excitement. “It’s a real drama with actors and singers and everything.”

Jaehwan couldn’t think of a thing to say in response to this and was spared having to when he caught a look at the clock and gasped instead. “I have to get home! It’s far past when I was supposed to be, my mother will be worried sick.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah...”

Jaehwan jogged home, simultaneously reluctant to leave and tripping over his own feet in his haste. The wind whooshed right through his worn coat and into his body, which was suddenly shaking with more than just cold, nearly blowing him right over. What on earth would his Supreme Leader, and loving father for that matter, think if he knew that Jaehwan had been talking about other countries? On second thought, forget if he knew, there was no way he didn’t know what Jaehwan had been doing! He could have sent soldiers to his family right this second!

Half sobbing with fright, Jaehwan sped up, imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios, with most involving a faceless soldier shooting his mother on the spot, and then turning the rifle on him. They could be at his house right now, and it would all be because of Jaehwan. His breath came in short pants and his chest began feeling tight as he neared his apartment building.

He ran up all five flights of stairs without stopping and slammed the door open with both hands as if attacking it. His mother, who was standing in the kitchen, shrieked in surprise and his brother ran out holding a stick. Jaehwan collapsed onto the floor, unable to breathe from his run, coughing and retching so hard he couldn’t explain himself. His mother collapsed to her knees next to him, yelling for their father to come and take him to the hospital. Jaehyung tried to calm her down and pounded Jaehwan, who had tears streaming from his eyes in pain, on the back in an attempt to force some breath into his weakened lungs.

His father came running into the room and paled at what he saw. By then, Jaehwan’s mother had stopped screaming and was simply holding Jaehwan’s shoulders as his spasms finally slowed to a stop. He took several deep breaths and lifted himself to his knees, wiping his eyes on his shoulder in embarrassment at his own fright and theirs.

“Jaehwan!” His mother’s voice was like the shot of a bullet in the sudden silence. “What happened? Are you all right? Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“No.” He whispered, unsure if his voice was up to speaking properly. He cleared his throat and shivered suddenly, noticing the cold in the apartment for the first time. “I’m all right, I just ran too fast. Sorry.” None of them looked convinced, but Jaehyung helped him to his feet and led him to the table, where dinner was waiting. He saw his parents exchange a glance but pretended not to notice. What he did notice was that his portion of rice and grain was smaller than usual and had a bad feeling that their food supply was diminishing.

His parents were whispering to each other after they ate and were placing the bowls into the bucket full of water by the sink. He strained to hear what they were saying but only made out “factory,” “out of production,” and “manage.”

Jaehwan went into Jaehyung’s room after dinner. “I have to go into the military service next year, hyung,” he said. “What’s it like?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jaehyung already had his pajamas on and was hanging up his uniform. “Go away, Jaehwan.”

“I don’t want to.” Jaehwan puffed his cheeks and lay upside down facing his brother. Jaehyung rolled his eyes and pushed him over. “Ottokaji!”

“Oh lord, don’t start that again. Go to bed, it’s late.”

Jaehwan pouted but obeyed his brother, feeling more depressed than he was accustomed to. He lay on his sleeping mat, suddenly feeling like it was harder than it had seemed last night, his pillow slightly flatter, the darkness from behind his window blacker than ever. He put his hands behind his head and stared at the stained ceiling, wondering if South Korea was what Wonshik said it was, and the people there weren’t staring at the same thin, peeling, worn four walls in their tiny apartments as well; if they didn’t see their friends and neighbors being deported for small infractions, and knew where their families were. Jaehwan’s family hadn’t heard from his other brother in months—the police had already questioned them about him perhaps defecting to the South—and it was just he and Jaehyung to keep their parents company.

Jaehwan sighed and turned over, wheezing slightly with the change of position. He sometimes wondered if there was more to offer him out there than the military in a year and a government job in a few more. Suddenly giving up on sleep, Jaehwan reached under his sleeping mat and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He tiptoed into the kitchen where the fire was still burning low and carefully took a piece of burnt coal, touching it to one of the papers and delicately sliding it over the hair of a half-completed portrait of his brother.

Jaehwan lost himself gratefully into his imaginary world as Jaehyung’s uniform hairstyle and the necklace he always wore took shape with the guidance of his stained fingers. There was nothing in the world that calmed Jaehwan like transferring an image in his head perfectly onto the paper. Secretly, he’d never told a soul, he wanted to become an artist; he loved to draw on whatever paper he could find that would hold up to the gentle of his charcoal and he wished he could hang them up, but nothing was permitted on the wall except the portraits of their Great Leaders.

School did much to convince him that becoming an artist was not in the picture for him, especially since his family was nothing special. All there was in the foreseeable future was the military, application to the Workers Party, a job, marriage, and then death from natural or unnatural causes.

Unnatural causes seemed all too common these days, a situation brought to Jaehwan’s attention a few days later when Wonshik stopped coming to school. Jaehwan told himself he was just sick, he had to be home with some sort of dreadful illness to miss a week of school. It couldn’t have anything to do with those DVDs he’d been watching and discussing with me.

It was harder to concentrate on his studies than usual.

Jaehwan knocked on Wonshik’s door after school two weeks after leaving his apartment, feeling as if some large animal was attempting to push his heart out of his chest. The door opened and a girl about his age wearing an unfamiliar uniform and a long braid down her back stood there; Jaehwan knew Wonshik’s sister and knew that this was sure as anything not her.

“Who are you?” He blurted out before he could stop himself.

The girl raised an eyebrow and held the door only half-open. “Min Dohee. Who are you?”

“Lee Jaehwan. Where’s Wonshik?”

“There’s no Wonshik here. My father was relocated and we just moved in this afternoon.”

Jaehwan didn’t wait to hear the rest, and simply turned away to go back to his own apartment. There was no reason to linger around here anymore. He descended the stairs and noticed one of Wonshik’s neighbors shutting her door with an echoing click as he passed. Perhaps she was the one who reported him, or perhaps that was Jaehwan being paranoid.

“For good reason,” he whispered to himself, knowing that spying on neighbors was little more than idle pastime around here.

As he walked down the street, he took in the crumbling buildings surrounding him, most of their windows black and cold, and yet still inhabited. There was no one around but him walking the streets in the fading daylight and he felt suddenly lonely in the knowledge that another friend was gone. How many more would go before Jaehwan was alone?

Dohee joined their class the next day, and Jaehwan pretended he’d never seen her before as they all bowed to their new classmate. She was directed to a desk two rows down from Jaehwan, and she glanced at him as she sat. He took extremely diligent notes on what their instructor was saying, making his letters more illegible than usual before glancing back at her, catching her smiling at him, and he looked away quickly.

They played this game throughout the school day and the following few days. Jaehwan had known he was interested in girls in a generalized sort of way for a while, but had never focused on one in particular before, as dating and relationships were not exactly encouraged, to say the least. He didn’t know what it was about her that made him take a second look, and he would reflect on the mystery that was Min Dohee when he lay in bed each night when the shortage of air in his lungs made it hard to sleep.

Perhaps it was the way her bow-shaped lips twisted into a mischievous smile whenever she thought no one was looking, or how she blew her too-long fringe out of her eyes every minute or so, or her small face and large eyes that looked inquisitively at everyone, as if analyzing their every move. A new paper smeared with charcoal had joined the rest under his sleeping mat, every detail of her face rendered in dark . He’d never seen anything like her before, and he decided to talk to her again one day a week after she joined his class.

Jaehwan psyched himself up all day and when they were at last dismissed, he took a deep breath and approached Dohee’s desk, where she was putting her books away. She looked up as he came closer and he forgot what he was going to say.

“Um...it’s nice out today, isn’t it?” He winced, wanting to slap the idiot that had just said that.

Dohee looked like she would quite like to snicker, but was holding herself back out of politeness. “It is.” She agreed.

Jaehwan looked around. Their classmates were mingling around, not paying attention to them. He cleared his throat as she waited expectantly for him to continue. He blushed and decided to call himself a coward for today and try again tomorrow.

“I...hope tomorrow is just as nice.” He mumbled, his face burning at her half-grin.

“Me too.” She said, and Jaehwan slunk away from her and out the classroom door, mentally slapping every inch of himself so his face would have a reason other than embarrassment to be red.

He wondered if it was this difficult for everyone to talk to a female, or if he was just the lucky one who got the chance to be awkward about it. It wasn’t like he’d ever really spoken to one before, at least not in the way he intended to with Dohee.

Well, maybe tomorrow would give him some inspiration.

*          *          *

Jaehwan listened at the door to the utter silence within the apartment that night.

Everyone was asleep, and he could hear Jaehyung’s snoring even from over here and he gave a small snort of his own in amusement; he was worse than Wonshik, who could probably wake the dead. Two minutes later he was outside in the chilly night and he breathed the fresh air in deeply, for once not feeling like it would attack his lungs. He started walking aimlessly; it wasn’t like there was really anywhere to go.

His misty breath sparkled in the moonlight as if he’d brought the stars to the street just by breathing. The blackness around him was comforting, as if he was wrapped in a thick blanket of silence with no one to watch him, no one to judge him, and no one to make him be something he wasn’t.

He tilted his head back as he walked, admiring the sprinkle of stars far above him. He’d often remarked to Wonshik and Hakyeon when they used to sneak out at night that he wished he could reach up, pluck one out of the sky, and put it in his pocket. Wonshik used to laugh at him and say that he’d set his pants on fire. He usually got a smack on the arm for that. Jaehwan sighed, suddenly missing those nighttime walks with his friends, and lowered his head in time to smack right into someone else walking toward him.

Jaehwan’s heart jumped right into his throat and the sudden acceleration of it’s beating made him pant slightly with fear it would be a soldier looking for nighttime prowlers. He gasped in relief when the voice he heard next was distinctly female.

“Oh!” He heard the same fear in her voice that was making his heart run a marathon. “Who is that?”

Jaehwan squinted at the girl and nearly collapsed in relief. “Dohee. It’s just you.”

“Jaehwan?”

Feeling ridiculously happy that she’d recognized his voice without seeing his face, he nodded. “Yes, it’s me. What are you doing out so late?”

“Well what are you doing out so late?”

Touché. Jaehwan thought in slight alarm. He thought he’d have all night to think of things to talk to her about. “N-nothing important.” He pinched himself on the leg and decided to leave in the haze of his own embarrassment before it got any worse. “I should go. See you tomorrow!”

“Wait!” He felt her hand on his arm and he stopped. “I could use some company. Would you walk with me?”

It wasn’t exactly a hard decision, but he pretended to think it over for a moment anyway. “All right.” He knew she was smiling and he only wished he could see it properly. They set out in a random direction, at first walking in silence. The sound of their footsteps on the cracked pavement accompanied the occasional cricket’s chirp coming from somewhere around them.

“Where do you live?” Dohee asked him after a few minutes. Jaehwan pointed vaguely behind them.

“A few blocks down that way. Not far from here.”

“Why did you come this way?”        

Jaehwan felt his face get warm. “Habit I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

He stopped walking and pulled her arm for her to join him on the ground. They sat on the curb of the street and stared at the opposite building. “Wonshik and Hakyeon and I used to come out at night and just walk around. We’d meet at Wonshik’s apartment.” It wasn’t until his two friends were gone that Jaehwan realized how much he’d enjoyed their company. It had been comforting to have two people with whom he could be at least somewhat himself. In Jaehwan’s world, there was no such thing as absolute trust and that extended to everybody, no matter who they were or how long he’d known them.

And yet that itchy feeling of not quite trusting anybody seemed to melt away in the nighttime hours that the three of them wandered the streets and whispered their thoughts to each other. Hakyeon liked to talk about school for some reason, and how the teacher had praised him for this or that recently. Wonshik used to show them the poems that he’d written when he had free time; sometimes he would recite them out loud for them. They would always admire his talent and make him shuffle his feet awkwardly. Jaehwan would usually just blurt out whatever random thought passed through his head and the other two used to about his fixation with the night sky.

There was something about those nights that represented possibility. Hakyeon’s good grades would have surely gotten him a good job, and his father’s background certainly wouldn’t have hurt. Talents like writing were highly prized in the capitol, and Wonshik could have gotten into a good university. Jaehwan’s surprisingly insightful insights in symbolism and philosophy would also have provided him with a good reason to go into the heart of Pyongyang for university. So much possibility and so much wasted potential languishing in prison camps.

Perhaps that was why Jaehwan liked the night sky so much. It was endless possibility burning in the stars far above their heads. It was darkness broken by small lights. It was inspiration and imagination for Jaehwan and a place where no one, not even The Supreme Leader, could find him.

He didn’t say any of this to Dohee, but he had a feeling he didn’t have to.

“Do you still do that with them?” She asked after a few moments of quiet recollection.

Jaehwan swallowed and looked back at the sky. The Dog Star, Sirius, was winking at him like an old friend. “No,” he said to it. “We don’t.”

He stood up and held out his hand for her to take. “Let’s keep walking, shall we?”

Dohee smiled, and this time he could see it in the shadowy light. “Let’s shall.” Jaehwan laughed and pulled her to her feet. They continued walking for a while in a comfortable silence, much like the silence that sometimes fell between himself, Hakyeon, and Wonshik. He didn’t think that was possible with a girl to be perfectly honest.

They passed a shrine to Kim Il Sung and paused for a moment. It was lit with dim lights at the bottom, making the statue seem much taller than it probably was. But then, that was only necessary in order to portray how great the man himself was when he was alive. Jaehwan thought he felt the awe that the statue was supposed to invoke, but he suddenly felt weary, jaded by the thoughts he was supposed to be having. He looked around sometimes at his classmates and fellow citizens at rallies and noted their blank stares and practiced recitations and wondered if that’s really all there was for them in this world.

“I wish they sold flowers at night.” Dohee remarked. “We should be able to pay our respects to our deity at night too.” Jaehwan wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not, but he agreed anyway just to be on the safe side. They both bowed low before the statue before strolling on.

“What do you like to do, Jaehwan?” Dohee asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Like what do you like to do in your free time?”

“I like to imitate the sound of a mosquito.” Jaehwan answered promptly. Dohee giggled.

“No seriously,” she insisted. “Do you have any hobbies?” When Jaehwan didn’t answer for several minutes, she continued. “I’ll tell you mine,” she offered. Her companion gave a brief nod. “Well, I like to sing. I’ve been in a bunch of choirs and my mother says that Pyongyang has been looking at me.”

“At least your hobby will get you somewhere in the world.” Jaehwan muttered to himself. “Mine will get me absolutely nowhere.”

Dohee didn’t say anything for a moment before asking him what he meant. He hesitated; he’d never told anyone about his drawing, not even his brother. When she didn’t press him, he found himself telling her everything on his own. She listened to him describe how he first discovered that he could draw, doodling in the margins of his notes in school. He told her about the hidden pictures under his sleeping mat that he would take out when he couldn’t sleep. He told the night sky about the satisfaction he felt when his fingers were inky black with the residue of charcoal from the fire and he had a finished picture on the floor in front of him. The neighborhood and the girl next to him were witness to his tale of trying to draw with pencils but found that it was too impersonal for his taste.

Jaehwan asked Dohee why she liked to sing and he listened with pleasure to her impassioned response about how it made her feel beautiful and talented and someone who really mattered in the world. She regaled him with the story of how her mother made her sing in front of visiting co-workers of hers and how they loved it so much they insisted she sing more often for them. Most of all though, it made her feel free, as if she was flying on the notes of her songs away from her apartment and right into somewhere that must be heaven. She was happiest when she was singing.

Jaehwan thought he’d never find someone who was as passionate as he. The thoughts and feelings she described were identical to his and he told her that. He could hear the smile in her voice when she said how happy she was that he felt the same. He asked her to sing for him and she complied; Jaehwan thought he’d never heard such a clear and beautiful voice, even when she was singing so quietly he could barely hear her. She asked him to draw something for her and he scratched out a sketch of her in the dirt by their feet with a stick. She said she wished she could take a picture of it. As he straightened up, his hand brushed hers by accident and both jumped apart, blushing; he marveled at how soft her hand felt in that moment of contact. He told her he would show her his drawings one day. She said she’d like that.

They didn’t notice the passage of time, but soon the time came that they knew they had to part ways.

“Thank you for walking with me, Jaehwan,” Dohee said when they found their way back to her apartment building. “I had a wonderful time.”

“I did too,” Jaehwan agreed. “Would you like to walk again tomorrow night?”

She smiled and nodded. She waved at him and disappeared into the entrance. Jaehwan stayed there for a moment with a foolish smile on his face, wondering if life anywhere could get better than his night had just been. For a while, the place he lived, his family background, the loss of his friends to the government, didn’t seem to matter so much.

He approached his own apartment, grinning like a child with his favorite candy as he replayed his and Dohee’s conversations tonight. Such was his excitement that he failed to notice the trucks parked across the street, an unusual enough sight in a place with no motor vehicles to be found.

He made it to his apartment just ahead of the soldiers who followed him.

The door crashed open just as Jaehwan reached the door to his bedroom and he twisted around in terror, smile sliding off his face, at the unexpected blast of noise. He wasn’t given an opportunity to call for help, as the soldiers stomped around the apartment, searching for his family. Jaehyung appeared out of nowhere next to him and Jaehwan felt relief flood into his frozen legs. He knew things would be better now; his brother had never let him down.

One of the soldiers came out again holding Jaehwan’s mother’s arm, followed closely by his father. Both were in their nightclothes, and Jaehwan never wanted to see that look of fright on his parents face ever in his life. He started forward but Jaehyung stopped him, shaking his head. Both knew there was nothing they could do but wait.

“You have been charged with smuggling contraband from the South and expressing disloyalty to the regime. For these crimes you and your family will be sent to a prison camp for three generations to rid the country of your tainted blood. Do you contest these charges?” The soldier sounded bored in the proceedings, as if he’d said the words a thousand times before and the sentiments behind them had simply lost their meaning. Jaehwan waited for his parents to protest, to say there had been a mistake. They were loyal citizens who had never gone against the law a moment in their lives. They must be at the wrong apartment and Jaehwan waited for them to apologize and let them go back to sleep.

He stared beseechingly at his father, who just looked at the soldier and shook his head. He did not contest the charges. Jaehwan sagged onto his brother’s arm, and looked up into his equally shocked face.

“I’m sorry, boys.” Their father spoke quietly, but they could still hear him. Their mother simply nodded her agreement.

The soldier didn’t seem to care much for their sentimental apologies. He moved toward Jaehwan and Jaehyung and the former felt his brother tense and move in front of him, shielding him from the soldier’s view. The soldier just grabbed Jaehyung and forcibly moved him to their parents, leaving Jaehwan by himself.

“You three will be sent to a prison camp. This young one will be rehabilitated in a labor camp.” Jaehwan was sure he’d heard wrong. They were forcing him to leave...alone?

“No!” Jaehwan’s mother started to struggle for the first time. “I won’t let you take him away!” The soldier holding her slapped her in the face and told her quite calmly to be quiet.

“Umma!” Jaehwan tried to cross the room but was stopped by the soldier in front of him. 

“Your sympathies should not lie with traitors to the regime.” He spat, reminding Jaehwan of a snake he had once seen on the side of the road. Another animal had gotten too close to it and it had reared up and spat venom at the smaller, defenseless creature. This soldier seemed just as merciless, and for good measure walloped Jaehwan in the stomach with his rifle. Jaehwan doubled over, feeling fluid coming up, and he coughed straight past his lungs and from his abdomen, spewing it all over the floor.

“Let’s go.” The soldier who had read their charges marched them out of the apartment without letting them get their bearings or collect any personal belongings. Jaehwan had to be half carried by one of them down the stairs and outside toward one of the trucks. He watched with watering eyes as his parents were loaded onto the other truck. Jaehyung kept glancing at them and down the street and back again before fixing his eyes on Jaehwan.

He suddenly broke free of the soldier holding him. As he ran past Jaehwan, he slipped something into his younger brother’s clenched fist and took off down the street. The soldiers yelled at him to get his back here before the head soldier nodded at one of the others. He raised his rifle and pointed it straight at Jaehyung, shooting a perfect round into his back. The noise was deafening in Jaehwan’s ears.

Jaehyung stumbled and fell and stopped moving.

Jaehwan’s world stopped. The thunderous noise of the blasting gun reverberated through his mind, repeating over and over again. The clock stopped ticking. The moon went dark. The stars were extinguished. His legs lost their ability to support him completely and he crumpled to the ground, staring at the unmoving form of his brother just twenty feet away, completely beyond Jaehwan’s help. In the back of his mind he was grateful his parents were already in their truck and didn’t have to see what he was seeing.

There was unbearable pain in his chest from the force of the breath stuck in his lungs, unable to come out. His heart disappeared into a black hole. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe at all and the world was spinning, the clock no longer stopped but on hyper speed.

There was a slap on his back, forcibly releasing the cold air trapped in his chest and Jaehwan’s breath rasped as he was lifted to his feet by his arm and into the truck behind him. He slumped against the canvas wall, a soldier on either side of him, and he stared dully into space, left with no will to summon the energy to even cough out the ache in his lungs, which he suspected had nothing to do with the usual reasons for chest pain.

They drove for a few minutes before slowing and stopping before another apartment building identical to Jaehwan’s. Jaehwan didn’t pay any attention to what was going on, not even when they dragged a bewildered looking Hongbin in his pajamas to his truck, and his mother, Jaehwan’s father’s only sibling, to the other. Hongbin was pushed into the truck and he fell on top of Jaehwan’s legs. He pushed himself up onto all fours.

“Hyung, what’s going on?” His cousin, three years younger than himself, sounded pitifully frightened. Jaehwan just put his arm around Hongbin and held him close, settling his cousin’s head onto his shoulder and resting his own head onto Hongbin’s hair. He unclenched his other hand, where Jaehyung’s necklace, the one he’d been wearing for years, the one he’d slipped into his brother’s hand as he ran knowing he’d be shot, had left marks on his palm. Jaehwan knew it was his brother’s apology for leaving him so brutally. He did not know why Jaehyung would choose death over their fate, but he had a dreadful feeling he would soon find out.

“Hyung, where’s Jaehyung-hyung?” Hongbin asked quietly. “Where’s Umma? And your parents?”

The black hole in Jaehwan’s chest spit out his heart and he felt it clench painfully at the sound of his brother’s name. He just shook his head, feeling Hongbin’s soft hair rub against his cheek and closed his eyes. He didn’t know if Hongbin understood, but that was all he was capable of doing right now. The rumbling of the truck beneath them eventually lulled both teenagers into an unrestful sleep.

*          *          *

“Out of the truck.” Jaehwan was roughly shaken awake and he blinked in the sudden daylight filtering into the truck. Hongbin’s head slipped off his shoulder and onto his own chest and Jaehwan found himself smiling slightly. Nothing could wake the boy up, not even Wonshik’s snoring. He shook Hongbin but he only slapped his hand away and snuggled closer to Jaehwan.

They weren’t moving fast enough for the soldiers, who promptly slammed a truncheon on both their heads to get them moving. Jaehwan’s vision went white for a moment before becoming aware of the pain, and Hongbin woke up with a yelp and grabbed at his head.

“What was that f—” He yelled at the soldier before Jaehwan clapped his hand over his younger cousin’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, he isn’t fully awake.” He said, ignoring Hongbin when he tried to his hand.

“Shut up and get out of the truck.” Jaehwan scrambled out as ordered followed by a sullen Hongbin, who clearly wasn’t awake enough to feel scared. They were taken to a hut on the outskirts of what Jaehwan was beginning to realize was a huge camp with barracks and mud roads. The two soldiers were their “welcoming committee,” who threw a tan shirt, a pair of brown trousers, and a pair of cloth shoes at each of them.

“Change. These will be your uniforms. Leave your clothes here, you won’t be needing them.” They were left alone and the guards stood outside the door. Jaehwan and Hongbin looked at each other and then at the clothes they were clutching.

“Come on. It’ll be all right.” Jaehwan said, beginning to remove the clothes that would soon no longer belong to him. He didn’t believe the words himself, let alone think that Hongbin did, but the younger boy did as his older cousin.

The clothes were worn and thin; clearly they were not their first owners, and would most certainly not be the last. As Jaehwan pulled the shirt over his head, a wave of realization swept over him, images of the night before flashed in his memory. He couldn’t help the sobs that suddenly made their appearance. He just stood there, shirt half on, tears running down his face. Hongbin glanced over at him and stopped his own dressing, unsure of what to do.

“Jaehwan hyung...”

All Jaehwan could say was “Jaehyung...”

Hongbin didn’t ask and just put an arm around his cousin and waited for the tears to stop. The guards banged on the door for them to hurry up, and Jaehwan quickly wiped his face. The two of them dressed in silence.

The shirt hung on Jaehwan’s thin frame, making him feel like he was wearing a waterfall—cold and falling. The pants were too short, contrasting with the loose waistline. If his clothes were hanging off of him, Hongbin was swimming in his, as he had always been smaller.

Jaehwan removed his sneakers and put on the cloth shoes he’d been given. They were too small and he felt like he was walking barefoot.

“Switch with me, hyung.” Hongbin held out his shoes and took Jaehwan's when he didn't hold them out. “These are too big on me.”

The soldiers came back as they swapped shoes and led them back outside. They had not been given any coats against the frigid air and Jaehwan and Hongbin huddled together as they walked to keep warm. The two soldiers saw and snickered at them.

They arrived at one of the barracks and held the door open mockingly. The cousins peeked in and were suddenly pushed from behind into the filthy wooden building, little more than an oversized shack. Jaehwan stumbled when Hongbin crashed into him and he avoided falling to the floor with the soldiers’ laughter for background by another prisoner who caught him just in time.

“Welcome home,” he heard before the door shut. The other prisoner helped him to his feet and Jaehwan muttered his thanks before looking into the other man’s face. Well, more a boy around his age.

He was thin to the point of skeletal, matching the rest of the prisoners. Apparently food was a rare commodity around here, but he’d known that the minute they’d arrived. The boy was wearing the same uniform as he and Hongbin, and it hung on him worse than them with the appearance that he used to weigh more. His skin was bronzed from working outside all day, blisters and callouses on his feet and hands and his black hair was brittle and thin. The boy was staring at him just as intently as he was staring at the boy, and all of sudden he recognized him.

“H...Hakyeon?”

The boy opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the door opening and the demands of the guards for them to get their food and get to work. Jaehwan and Hongbin were taken separately and given profiles including their hometown, physical health, age, connections outside the camp, and occupation before becoming a prisoner. Jaehwan was assigned to a unit that moved packages and supplies from a nearby train station into the camp by foot, no matter the weather. Hongbin got lucky; he was assigned to the kitchen. Hongbin looked to Jaehwan as they separated, but instead of fear, his eyes seemed to be telling him stay strong and they would get through this. Jaehwan had to swallow before being led out to where the other people in his unit were working.

Somehow, some god somewhere got him into the same work group as the boy who looked like Hakyeon. They were forbidden to talk, but as Jaehwan approached, the boy looked up and nodded at him. He took this as confirmation of his earlier disbelieving question. He made sure to work next to him.

Hongbin and Jaehwan reunited that night after a paltry dinner of barely a handful of beans and cornmeal at the nightly ritual of memorizing the rules and regulation of the camp, mandatory for all prisoners. When they were finally left alone, Jaehwan went straight to Hakyeon’s bunk.

“Hyung...” He didn’t know where to begin. Hakyeon had changed more than just physically. There was something about his blank and emotionless eyes that made him appear almost inhuman—a living corpse was standing in front of him. Hakyeon just looked at him, waiting for him to say something. Jaehwan looked at the ground; the Hakyeon he remembered hated awkward silences, he was one of the most talkative people he knew.

“How...how is your father doing?”

Hakyeon’s eyes didn’t change as he spoke for the first time since Jaehwan’s arrival. “He died.”

Jaehwan didn’t know what to say to that. “Oh.”

Hakyeon met his eyes. “Nothing matters but surviving, Jaehwan. You should remember that.”

Jaehwan’s eyes hardened as he looked at his friend. “You can’t possibly believe that.”

Hakyeon shrugged and turned away. “Believe what you want. It’s time for bed.”

On cue a guard came in and ordered everyone into his bunk. Jaehwan returned to Hongbin, who had been watching their “conversation” from across the room. “How’s Hakyeon?” He whispered.

Jaehwan looked over at Hakyeon’s thin backside rising and falling with shallow breaths. “He’s dead, Hongbin. He walks and talks, that’s true, but he’s dead inside.”

They lay down on their bunk, crammed between two other people. Hongbin put his mouth close to Jaehwan’s ear. “We’ll just have to help him live again.”

*          *          *

The work was exhausting. Rather than getting used to it as the weeks and months dragged on, the lack of proper nutrition, sleep, and warmth wore Jaehwan’s body down and made the work harder and harder every day. Before long, his body resembled the rest of the prisoners in the camp and he could barely draw breath without a prolonged coughing fit, something that got worse and worse as time went on. The cold wind blasted through the thin, dirty uniform, the walking on harsh ground back and forth every day wore the soles of his shoes down and gave him blisters. If he didn’t have Hongbin, Jaehwan knew he would have turned into Hakyeon long ago; both he and Hongbin made sure to keep the spark of life in their eyes despite the attempts of the guards to stamp it out. Often one or both of them would return to the barracks with bruises and winces because a guard had tried to beat the smile off them. Hongbin would sneak some extra food from the kitchen for him and they would eat it when they were supposed to be asleep. Jaehwan would save some for Hakyeon and give it to him when they were on their work detail.

At first Hakyeon ignored him and his offers of food. He would speed up his walking and tighten his hold on whatever he was carrying at the time, almost like he was resisting the temptation of a friendship long over. But if Jaehwan knew his friend, Hakyeon would cave eventually. He stubbornly offered his extra food and whispered inane thoughts in his ear when they walked together like he used to on their nighttime walks with Wonshik. When it got dark Jaehwan sometimes sat outside for a few stolen minutes and stared at the night sky and swallowed tears of regret. Sometimes he would scratch drawings into the lifeless dirt with a stick; he didn’t want to lose himself to the harsh reality of the camp. He welcomed anything he could do to escape reality and retain his humanity.

One night Hakyeon sat next to him. Neither said anything.

The next day was the first time Jaehwan made Hakyeon smile during work. The boy’s lips cracked with the unexpected twitch of movement and Hakyeon looked shocked at himself before his face returned to its normal expressionless expression. Jaehwan grinned, his own lips cracking, with excitement. He knew Hakyeon was still there.

He and Hongbin sat outside that night together. Hakyeon joined them hesitantly. Jaehwan put his arm around his friend’s shoulder and Hakyeon didn’t shake it off.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jaehwan.” Hakyeon murmured. “It makes it so much easier to live.”

“We’re going to escape, hyung. We’ll go to the South.”

These words were so shocking that now Hakyeon shook his arm off him. Hongbin stared at his cousin. “Hyung...that’s impossible. We’ll get killed!”

Jaehwan looked at the stars above them and shook his head. “Nothing is impossible.”

                                                            *          *          *

Two soldiers picked through an uninhabited apartment, readying it for a newlywed couple that would soon be moving in. They gathered all the remnants of the previous tenants, piling them into the center of the main room for disposal.

“Hey Taekwoon, look at this.” The younger one called to the older one, who looked impatient as he entered the other room.

“What is it Sanhyuk?”

“Look what I found.” Sanhyuk held up a sheaf of papers he’d discovered under a sleeping mat. “They’re really good.” Despite himself, Taekwoon moved closer to look.

There were dozens of sketches, harshly imprinted onto the cheap paper with thick black lines. Sanhyuk flipped through them, black coal staining his fingers, remarking on the detail the unknown artist had etched out. There was the night sky with the words “I wonder” scrawled in messy handwriting underneath. Below that was a portrait of a young man with regulation hair and a non-regulation necklace captioned “brother.” A rusted out and abandoned car in front of an apartment building. A woman standing in a kitchen, concentrating on what she was cooking. A wall with three portraits on it, a cloth hanging neatly on a hook below them.

Taekwoon lost interest. “Come on, we have to finish.”

“Ok.” Sanhyuk flipped over the last drawing, a girl with a braid and a too-long fringe with large round eyes peeking through. Her bow-shaped lips had the hint of a mischievous grin, and it was titled “Dohee—the girl who smiled.”

“Sanhyuk!”

“Coming.”

The young soldier strode out of the room and threw the whole pile into the garbage heap carelessly. As he did, the portrait of the girl tore along her cheek. It seemed almost as if she was crying.