Chapter 1: Entering the Residence

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Hi guys! Compared to my usual Regency era historical romances, this is quite a departure from what I usually write. I have a huge interest in the North Korean regiment, ideology, their way of life and the stories told by the defectors however, and somehow this story concocted itself in my head.

Please be reminded that this story is wholly fiction! The facts about life within North Korea are tidbits and information I got from the biographies written by the defectors, but the story of my main character and her escape is ENTIRELY fictional, so please take them all with a pinch of salt.

As always I will not be posting alot of Author's Notes as I believe in an unhindered form of reading and immersing one's self in the world created here, but I always welcome comments upon the story and plot, and it's my most favorite thing in the world to know people are connecting with the characters I've made up in my head, just as much as I connect with them. Enjoy! :)

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My mother was beautiful, from what I remember of her. Her name was Song Rinam, and she used to be a stage performer, up till she had me. We lived in a small town off the main city of Pyongyang, in the streets where boys skinny like scarecrows would scavenge. My mother often had to fend those boys away when we had our rations delivered to us at the beginning of every week. I would ask her why do we get the food, when the others didn't. And she'd always respond in similar fashion. "Suu Ji-ah, we're lucky your father takes care of us. But we must take care of ourselves as well, or we'd never survive."

I soon learned who my father was. Mother had been in pain ever since I could remember. One day, when I was twelve, she had collapsed, and never got up. I remembered shaking her, crying out "Umma!" over and over again, but she never woke up. Her body grew colder despite it being in the middle of summer. When the party member arrived the next day to deliver our rations for the week, he was shocked to discover my mother's still body, and my tear stained face.

In the days to follow, I was left in the care of a stoic faced governess who ensured my studies were still in order, as official party members streamed in and out of my house.

By the end of the week, I was asked to pack what belongings I had. Left with little choice, I did as I was told, and was bundled into a car. It was the first time I had sat in a car, and it fascinated me. Mother had always brought be out on the back of her bicycle, and even that was rickety and old. I had always wondered where it came from. The children in my neighborhood would stare at it in wonder, and at me in envy. Even despite it's rusty hinges and old parts. Mother had said it was a gift upon my birth from my father. I had asked her again, if appa takes care of us, why do I never see him. She had told me to hush, lest I get punished should anyone hear me.

Ever since we were children, we were taught fear. We were taught to be careful, and to never go against the Kim's. The Kim's were a name revered in every household around where I stayed in Dongdaewon. Every morning, the televisions and radio's would be turned on to listen to the only broadcasting channel in North Korea sing praises and wax about how our Supreme Commander, as well as his father the Dear Leader Kim Jong-Il. Mother would listen intently, but unlike others, she did more than just remind me to stay loyal to the Kims.

"Suu Ji-ah," she would say. "You must remember to be grateful to him. The Supreme Commander has done us a great service. You must not forget him."

I was confused back then, at how earnest Mother had been in reminding me. It wasn't till that car ride I was taken in, as I marvelled at the soft hum of the engine, at how everything went so much faster by me then it had when Mother had ferried me on the back of her bicycle, did I finally realize that it meant so much more. In the short two years it had taken to grow out of my childish innocence, suspicion had also somehow crept it ways in. A part of me grew suspicious as the bulky, black suited men hovered around me as I got out. They respectfully handed me the small bag which held my meagre belongings, and then stepped back as I turned to face my destination.

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