Chapter 3 prelude

South Korea, Seoul, April 26, 1989. I sat in the dreary, gray waiting room of the defendants, dejectedly waiting for my sentence to be pronounced.Outside, in the lobby leading to the courtroom, an angry crowd swarmed the door as if to knock it down.Their roars were louder and louder, and the whole building seemed to collapse amidst the curse. murderer, murderer, murderer I clenched my fists and trembled all over.Their shouts and curses were directed at me. No!It was literally yelling at me. Listening to their roars, I couldn't help but think of the public trial of traitors by the people's courts when Korea was liberated from the Japanese. That's what I knew when I was in school.Only then did I realize how terrible the feelings of those who were interrogated back then were.

Although there are other doctors, nurses and three special agents in this room, they have been with me day and night except for sleeping in the past year, but I still feel lonely as never before.It doesn't matter how close they are to me, or how close I am to them; but I know it's me, not them, who awaits judgment.At this moment, how much I envy their innocence and their future, I can't help but feel an inexplicable sadness in my heart. I silently recited those comforting Bible verses that the pastor wrote to me a few days ago.But my heart song was interrupted.Four policemen in crisp uniforms and shiny epaulets opened the door and escorted me to court.They surrounded me, protected me, and forced their way through the angry crowd, and led me to the court.Everyone in the auditorium immediately roared.This is my first time appearing in front of a large audience.People are not allowed to listen in the interrogation room, only when the sentence is pronounced.At this moment, people howled, insulted, and cursed like hungry beasts.If allowed, they will tear me to pieces to relieve their hatred.

Bitch, an old woman cursed through gritted teeth in the gallery.You killed my only son.Who will take care of my retirement now? I walked toward the dock like it would never end; when I finally sat down, I couldn't control myself anymore.My heart was beating wildly, I was trembling all over, and I couldn't help crying, chanting one word over and over again in my heart: Mom. She may have had many fantasies about her daughter's fate, but she never imagined that it would be like this today.She brought me up with infinite love and all her heart; and I have now disappointed her.I can still recall how she carefully helped me dress up, put the lace she made on my school uniform, and put it on for me by herself.If she sees me like this today, she will definitely be heartbroken.

Worse: I have not only failed her, I have failed my country as well.My confession to the South Korean authorities will be regarded by my government as a heinous act of treason.Because of my failure, my disgrace, my family will undoubtedly be kicked out of their home by the North Korean government and sent incognito to some horrible labor camp, where they may spend the rest of their lives.Not only did I ruin my life, but I irreparably ruined theirs as well. The dreary court proceedings began, but I couldn't concentrate on listening.For me the ending was already a death sentence.I destroyed a South Korean Airline 858 and was responsible for the deaths of 115 people.Strangely enough, it was not until I entered this packed courtroom that I truly realized the consequences and the horrific repercussions of my actions.Although I hid a bomb on the plane, I neither saw the scene when the plane was blown up, nor the scene of the accident. Until just now, I still had a feeling of wanting to shirk the crime, as if it never happened, or it didn’t happen. Not really my fault.But as I faced the grieving families of the victims in the courtroom, I suddenly felt a deep, genuine sense of horror at the heinous crimes I had committed.I was ashamed to face the people in the gallery.In each of their families there are people who were killed by me.I feel too weak to face them.

What pained me the most was that there were a few elderly women in the crowd still wishing that the whole thing was a hoax, that their loved ones had just been hidden somewhere by the South Korean government and were still alive. I cried even more sadly.I wanted to reach out and hug them and tell them how sorry I was.When I took the assignment about two years ago, they told me it was the highest service I could do for my country.I have no doubts in our great leader and savior Kim Il Sung.But now I understand: how ignorant I am that I believed those words.I didn't bring about the unification of Korea like Kim's minions said.I also didn't become the national hero they promised.In fact, I became a demon contemptuous of humanity; a worthless, despised demon.

Suddenly I realized that I still had a Bible verse written to me by the pastor in my hand. I could not look at it and read it while crying, but I could only repeat it in my heart: Fear not, I am with you; Do not lose heart, I am your God. I will make you strong, I will help you; I will support you with the hand of righting the good and eliminating the evil. Nor did reciting these verses calm me down.I believe that no god, however merciful he may be, will ever forgive me for my sins. During the long days of my detention, my only consolation was an early death, and I had cheated death once; when my accomplice Kim Soon-il and I were arrested at Bahrain airport, both of us, according to the All of them swallowed the poison in their cigarettes and tried to commit suicide.Mr. King succeeded, and he died instantly.But I am alive, alive from the hand of death.Alone, month after month, I endured the remorse and pain that followed the sin, and the grief it caused.I, being much younger, lived a little longer to suffer through it, perhaps more justly.

Suddenly there was a voice telling me to stand up, and I knew that my sentence was about to be pronounced.The judge asked me if I had anything to say before he pronounced it.I tried to calm myself down and stammered: I finally realized the enormity of my sin, and finally had the opportunity to get to the bottom of it and make it public.That's something I'm very grateful for.All I have now is hatred for Kim Il Sung.I feel ashamed to apologize to the families of the victims.I paused, trying to muster up the courage to ask forgiveness.Even though I knew my death sentence was due, and had been looking forward to it for months, seeing it so close, so certain, made me tremble again.But I couldn't say a word anymore, I could only swallow the words in my stomach, kept silent, and thought to myself: Life is really worse than death.To ask for forgiveness would only be baser and more humiliating.But a certain instinct keeps churning in my heart, prompting me to say that I still have things to do, to fulfill my duty, to atone for my sins.I want to live, I want

But the judge regarded my silence as a final expression and proceeded to the next procedure.I heard him read out the verdict in a low and monotonous tone: Because the criminal accepted the order issued by Kim Jong-il and Kim Il-sung's son to blow up Korean Airline 858 and carried it out, 115 innocent people were killed. People must be severely punished for this behavior, so the prisoner was sentenced to death. There was a cheer from the crowd.Although this was the verdict I expected, I suddenly felt dizzy, and my internal organs seemed to burst.My whole body was cold, my blood seemed to freeze, my body froze, and tears welled up in my eyes.

Farewell, Mom, Dad, Hyun-ok, Hyun-soo, farewell. I was taken out of the courtroom shaking, and I couldn't hear the yelling and insults from the angry people behind me.On the prison van, I desperately and sincerely hoped that I could meet my family before I died, even though I knew this hope was futile.I thought of my naughty brother and my beautiful sister, and I prayed that they would take care of themselves and not end up like me.I also thought about how cruelly the North Korean government would treat them.Even though my family was completely ignorant of my mission (they didn't even know that I was a spy), they would be forced to pay a terrible price for my confession, my betrayal of my country.

I was in so much pain that the only thing I could do was to start counting, yes, counting the day until I was executed.