I Escaped North Korea!: A North Korea Survival Story by Scott Peters & Ellie Crowe

Author:Scott Peters & Ellie Crowe [Peters, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Best Day Books For Young Readers
Published: 2019-03-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

That night, Dae and Ki-moon found an empty warehouse with broken windows like smashed eyes. Thrilled to have a place to call home, they climbed the stairs to the third floor and made nests of cardboard and newspapers.

Early the next morning, Dae washed at the river and brushed the dried mud from his pants. He'd found a navy shirt in an alley trash can. The dark color hid the dirt. He pulled it on, certain he could pass for a China-born ethnic Korean. He was ready to find work!

Back at the market, he took a deep breath and approached a vendor's stall, bowing politely. He asked the bent, wrinkled woman if she had any job he could do.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Where are you from, boy?"

"Baihe," Dae said. He'd heard of the small Changbai mountain town and knew that a lot of ethnic Koreans lived there. "I am a good worker."

"Show me your ID card," the woman said.

"I lost it," Dae lied. "I'm getting another soon."

"You think I want to be arrested?" she said. "Go now, boy. Go away."

The same thing happened vendor after vendor.

With a sinking heart, Dae realized his plan would never fly. He couldn't work without an official Chinese ID card. And he had no way of getting one.

That night, he returned to the warehouse, depressed. I am a lousy son, he thought, overcome with guilt. My father is in prison, and I can't help him. My mother is starving, and I have no way to buy her food.

Ki-moon came charging up the stairs, hopping over abandoned construction material and broken glass. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he dug into a paper bag and began munching on his loot: crispy seaweed snacks and crackers.

Dae watched, stomach rumbling.

When Ki-moon pulled out a sunflower seed chocolate ball, Dae turned weak with envy. Ki-moon was much better at surviving than he was.

"Where'd you get that?" he said.

"The market," Ki-moon muttered, his mouth too full to talk.

"Someone gave it to you?"

"Yeah. They like my face."

"You stole it, didn't you?" Dae said. "You better be careful. You'll get caught."

"I steal from the rich to feed the poor." Ki-moon laughed. "Poor me." Reluctantly, he handed Dae a chocolate ball. "It's the only way, my friend. You don't steal, you don't eat. You don't eat, you die."

Dae resisted wolfing it down whole. He wanted to make it last. He'd never tasted anything so sweet or so good. He ate slowly, savoring the delicious treat. When he was done, he thought, I might be in China but I'm living like a kotjebi, hiding from the Chinese police and stealing food.

The next day, he went to the market and watched the vendors, hoping someone would throw away some spoiled vegetables. He looked like all the other beggar boys and girls, eyes filled with hunger and desperation. The market vendors weren't rich, and he hated to steal from them. Yet if he didn't steal, he'd never eat. Until he could find work, he had no choice. When you're hungry, you'll do anything, he thought.

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