Open Doors

I originally wrote this for an assignment in the Gospel-Centered Discipleship Writer’s Cohort as a short story that illustrates biblical truth. This is a work of fiction. Although some details have been borrowed from true stories about people who have escaped from North Korea, the characters and plot are a product of my imagination.

***

Iseul opened the door and gasped. Two Chinese police officers stood outside of her great aunt and uncle’s apartment.

“Iseul Park?” the older one asked.

“Yes?” the teen girl answered, voice quavering.

“You’re under arrest on suspicion of being an illegal immigrant,” the older officer said. The younger officer spun Iseul around and handcuffed her.

Iseul was escorted out, tears streaking her cheeks. Her great aunt and uncle were out shopping. She had no one to vouch for her, and she knew she couldn’t pass the police’s investigation. They would return her to North Korea.

***

Iseul opened the door to the prison camp’s eating room and stared at a young woman on the other side of the room. Dark hair curtained her lowered face, shielding empty eyes that looked at a near-empty bowl.

Iseul hurried over. “Hwa-young?” she whispered.

The woman looked up. Life surged into her eyes. “Iseul?! It can’t be! I thought….”

Neither could speak in their tear-filled embrace. Iseul recognized her sister, but in the year that they had been separated, she had become like a pale, thin blade of grass.

“How are you here?” Hwa-young asked as they sat. “I thought you escaped into China?”

“I did,” Iseul answered. “I stayed with Uncle Jae-young and Auntie Sooah, but the police found out and deported me. This is my first day in this camp. Have you been here since our family was arrested? Are Mom and Dad here?”

“Yes, they sent us here. Mom and Dad….” Hwa-young’s voice trailed off. She looked down, wringing her hands. “They starved. This is all the food we get.”

Iseul looked at her sister’s bowl. A dozen grains of corn.

“I’ll be right back,” Iseul said. She retrieved her bowl from the line and returned, adding her corn to Hwa-young’s.

“What are you doing?” Hwa-young exclaimed.

“I’ve had it easier than you. I can skip a few meals if it means keeping you alive.”

Hwa-young smiled through fresh tears and silently mouthed “Thank you.”

***

The door to the women’s cell clanged open. A guard barked, “Iseul Park!”

Iseul scrambled up. The guard grabbed her and pushed her toward the warden’s office. She stumbled in, and Warden Chue smiled, gesturing to a chair opposite where he sat.

What have I done wrong? Iseul wondered as she sat. I’ve only been here a few days.

“Are you enjoying your stay here?” asked the warden.

“The administration is kind to provide shelter and food for unworthy–”

“Oh, stop acting,” Warden Chue interrupted. “I know you hate it.” He paused. “Would you like to leave?”

Iseul didn’t know how to answer. This had to be a trap.

“You’re fortunate that you happened to come to my prison,” Warden Chue continued. “I run a secret little business, and you’ve caught my eye as a prospect. It will get you back into China, and it will make me money. Interested?”

Iseul stared at the warden with suspicion and fear. Did she dare hope?

“Can my sister come, too?” she asked.

***

Iseul and Hwa-young slipped through the door their handler had unlocked. He peaked out a window into the night. After Warden Chue had transported them to the Chinese border, they had raced across the frozen Amnok River, where their handler had paid Warden Chue. Then they had carefully but quickly stolen across the countryside to a nearby town. Now they waited in a two-room building.

“Your bed is there,” said the handler, pointing to a small mattress. “Tomorrow we leave for another town. I have two men interested in buying you.” He entered the other room while Iseul and Hwa-young huddled on the mattress.

***

Iseul looked through the peephole. She unlocked the door and flung it open.

“Iseul!” Hwa-young cried.

“Hwa-young!”

The sisters hugged. This was their first reunion since their husbands had purchased them six months ago.

“Come, sit,” Iseul said. “I have tea ready. I couldn’t believe it when you contacted me. I didn’t know if we’d ever see each other again. How did you get my phone number?”

“My husband Eun-woo. He’s a wealthy South Korean businessman. When I told him our story, he insisted on helping me find you. He’s so kind, Iseul. At first I didn’t think it was real, but he’s a genuinely good man. How is your husband?”

“That’s great, Hwa-young. Wei is… nice, I suppose. He doesn’t take much interest in me. I think he wanted a wife mainly for the hope of having a son.”

“I see,” Hwa-young said. She seemed to hesitate. “Iseul, Eun-woo says we’re going to move to South Korea. I know you can’t come because your husband is Chinese, so I don’t know when I’ll see you again. That’s why I want to share something with you now. Whenever I ask Eun-woo why he’s so nice to me, he says it’s because of this.” Hwa-young reached into her purse and pulled out a Bible. “I believe him, Iseul, and this book has begun to change me, too. I want to give you one. Will you read it with me?”

***

Iseul opened the door to the house and paused just inside. Many others had already gathered in the common room. A kindly middle-aged woman caught her eye.

“Would you like to sit with me?” she asked. “My name’s Ming. Is this your first time here?”

“Yes,” Iseul answered. “I’m Iseul.”

As she nestled into a chair next to Ming, Iseul heard a ding. “Hush, you,” she muttered, silencing her phone. She smiled at the notification, however. Another video about Hwa-young’s escape from North Korea.

An older man with a Bible stood up in front of the room. “Beloved, today we will look at Revelation 3:20, ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.’”

That day, Iseul opened the door.