I receive these e-mails from Open Doors USA, and this one I got this morning. This may not be for young readers.
This story, though fictional, is based on first person accounts. Great effort has been made to accurately reflect the reality of life of a prisoner in a North Korean detention camp.
Dear Hannah ,
<>I, Wojung, am still alive. I am not sure how - maybe an unseen force is helping me. I just spent four days in the hands of malicious guards filled with unimaginable evil. I am not sure how many of my bones are broken; my body feels lifeless.
Someone in my cell must have told the guards about my nightly talks with "my angels." As they beat me, they asked if I was a "Christian." What does this mean? They said that Christians were the worst traitors. "I do not know the meaning of that word," I replied honestly. "Tell us the truth!" they shouted. I did not reply. The blow to my head came swiftly.
I remember nothing until the next day, waking up in a strange room, bruised, broken and dispirited. "You’ll tell us now if you are a Christian!" the guards roared, their sinister laughter fueling my fear. They took a canister of water and forced the spout into my mouth. So much water was forced into me that my stomach bloated; I struggled even to breathe. Then they laid a wooden plank across my stomach and pressed down on it...hard. Water came out through my mouth, my nose, and my bladder until I felt as though I was exploding. Still I said nothing. Unable to stand, I was dragged back to my cell and thrown in.
The next day they returned with a vengeance, each having a turn with me. Violated and barely hanging onto life, I lay in my cell and thought longingly of death. I remembered the woman who was executed, her blood now mingled with mine on my filthy, ragged skirt. Why does my mind always go back to that day in the yard? That day, as I stood with hands clasped behind my back, I recalled for the first time whispering words to the unseen person. How good it felt, to speak those words.
With barely enough breath to stay alive I again spoke those words...this time for myself. As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a surge of strength race through my limp and lifeless body. Countless bones were broken, but without pain, I was able to pull my head up from the concrete floor, next my arm came under me and supported my torso...I was now sitting up. Suddenly, I heard a voice say to me, "Stand-up!"...Slowly...slowly, I raised myself up onto my feet.
In the distance, I could hear the guards approaching my cell, and again that voice spoke clearly, "Stand-up." Fear mixed with disbelief as I stood waiting for the door to open. There were three guards; one had a body bag slung over his shoulder. I watched in silence as they quickly turned and ran, leaving the cell door open. Held up by unseen hands, I put one foot in front of the other, then another...again, slowly, slowly; I walked out of the cell. No one stopped me as I made my way outside into the beautiful sunshine. As I felt the warm summer sun on my face, my thoughts turned to my "angels." Peace surrounded me, but this time mingled with strength. My badly damaged body was healed, I do not know how but I heard myself say, "Thank you, Jesus."
In next week’s story, WoJung finds Jesus.
