September 17

I don’t know what I’m supposed to write.

I don’t even know why I’m writing. It’s dangerous, illegal. If they find out they’ll kill me – no, they’ll do worse than that. I don’t know what they do to you when they catch you – they always catch you, it’s not if  it’s when- nobody knows what happens, but it’s no secret that they make you wish you were dead.

The lines I’ve just written are reason enough for them to come after me.

I should stop. I can’t stop.

All these feelings bottled up inside me, I have to let them out somehow. I can’t talk to anybody, I can’t trust anybody. If I try to think things by myself I end up more confused than before. That's why I write I guess, to help me untangle the threads of my thoughts.

I’m scared, I’m confused, I’m trapped.

I don’t know of anybody else who is keeping a diary. I’ve read about them in old books in the public library but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to write; what I’m allowed to write.

My feelings and my opinion would be considered a crime. Just the fact that I am sitting here right now doing this would be considered a crime against him.

What if they find out? What if somebody sees this? Where am I supposed to hide it? I can’t carry it around with me all day and there is no place to hide it.

I’m dead. I was dead the moment I thought of writing this. There is no point in continuing, it won’t change anything, and nobody will ever read it. I’ll stop.

September 23

I should have burned this book. I should have destroyed all the evidence of my crime. I came close to cutting it to pieces and flushing it down the toilet many times but I decided not to.

I read my previous entry again and one sentence kept replaying in my mind.

“I’m dead. I was dead the moment I thought of writing this.”

Then it occurred to me: it doesn’t matter if I continue or not, the end is already decided, so I’ll just keep on writing. If I’m going to die I want to at least understand why. I think writing helps me. I can put my thoughts in an order.

It’s late, about 3.00 am. My roommates are sleeping; at least I think they are. I stop writing from time to time to listen to their breathing, check if any of them woke up. It’s completely dark and I can’t even see the tip of my nose but I’m not going to risk turning on a light.

I don’t trust my roommates. I think that no one is to be trusted. You never know who will be the one to betray you. Most of the people are obviously sick of him but everybody is afraid of going against him. His people are always watching you, patiently waiting for you to make a mistake and then one day they come after you and you just disappear. Nobody ever hears of you again. Soon they even forget you ever existed.

That’s how they control you, with fear. If you don’t trust anybody you are alone, if you are alone you are weak. Weak people are not a threat to them.

I’m not sure how long it’s been like this. I know that the Cho family has been on top for the last 70 years but when did it become a dictatorship?

Yes I said it, dictatorship. Just saying writing this down makes me excited for some reason. Is it the adrenaline rush of doing something illegal? Writing things down might seem like something so unimportant but it means so much to me. It gives me a freedom I have never experienced before. My hand can’t follow my mind fast enough. My thoughts are always a step ahead so it seems like there is no coherence to what I write. I change topics as easily as one would change shirts. I need to focus, to say what needs to be said.

They say we have democracy but really we don’t. I believe that the only reason we still have elections is because they know that nothing will change. People are not interested in putting much thought into their votes, many don’t vote at all. Maybe the elections are just a theater. A show they put on to keep us in a small perfect bubble while they make all the decisions. Literally a handful of people decide for a whole country and the consequences of their wrong decisions are all paid by the citizens.

Maybe it has been like this for years but we were just too blind to see. That’s why many people still believe in him and support him. Because the perfect world they live in hasn’t been shuttered to pieces yet.

 If it wasn’t for that incident I would be just like them, a puppet in their hands, a faithful follower. Then again I would give anything for her to be here with me again. Even being a slave would be fine if we could be together.

My dear sister, the only person in the world I ever trusted and loved, I miss you so much. You’ll never read this, we’ll never talk again and you’ll never be there for me when I am scared. What did you do to make them come after you? I’ve heard the rumors about the revolution; did you take part in it? If you did you would have told me right? Or were you trying to protect me like so many times before? They never said anything, they didn’t even give me your stuff after you disappeared but I know that I lost you.

I’m going off topic again. Hyomin is in the past and there is nothing that will bring her back. I have to focus on making it through the day for now. I can’t afford to cry for the past and there is no point in worrying about the future. This moment is what matters.

I’m tired. I can see the sun rising from the window. I can’t think straight anymore. My eyes feel heavy; I can barely keep them open.

I can hear Narsha shifting in her bed. I think she is about to wake up. I’ll just put this under my pillow for tonight and sleep. If possible no one must know about this diary. The longer I can keep it a secret the longer I will stay alive.

~ ~ ~

Sorry if it's a kind of short.

Here it is! I really really love this story and I am really excited to write it. I loved the book when I read it a few years back (if any of you haven't read it you really should) and I thought of writing a story based on it. I'm still not sure how this is going to end but I have the rest of the story pretty much figured out.

If it seems like it doesn't make any sense it's because it's not supposed to. Sunny is still confused and writing her feelings and experiences is something foreign to her. She gets better as it goes.

Comment and review people. I love feedback <3