Blood on Pointe Shoes

Our first task was to shoot the rebels.

I was one of them. But the Corporal didn't need to know this crucial piece of information. But talking about shooting people and rebels must confuse anyone reading this for the first time. So, let me clarify the situation. We were beginning our North Korean military service on a snowy morning, on October 23rd. And each enrolled youth had to shoot their rebellious comrade in front of them.

The young boys who didn't want to cooperate would be then buried in the snow. No one apart from the learning soldiers and the Corporal will know about this crime. Even their family. The Corporal will tell their families that their sons died as honorable soldiers.

One of my comrades next to me shot his bedroom partner. The blast was quick, too quick to register it. The next time I blinked my eyes, a deep red flower bloomed from the rebel's chest. He fell on the cold snow, and like that, life was stolen from him.

That was horrifying to see. I wanted to cry, to run, or to hide from the terrible nightmare that was my life. This was Reality. Truth. And if I showed signs of compassion for the freezing corpse in front of me, I would soon join them. I had to be strong. To swallow those tears.

The guy on my left killed another guy he had nice chitchat with. And one by one, the line of aspiring soldiers spat bullets. Not too long after, I was the only one who didn't fire his gun.

Reluctantly, I had a look at the rebel standing before me. The one I had to kill wasn't even dressed properly for the weather. We were in fur coats and boots, when he was wearing a dirty T-shirt, smalls shorts, and wounds colored his pale skin.

I held tight to the weapon they gave me for this occasion, "Everything will be okay." I muttered. I tried to convince myself to do it; I will be in his place if I don't obey.

I pulled the AKM up. It was so heavy. How was I supposed to shoot him in his head or his torso? My hands were shaking because of cold and fear, unable to do anything.

The corporal's shadow covered my body, "A problem, Yoh Song-ho ?"

I was unable to answer. Unable to act. But I had to do it! How could I live without having the balls to sacrifice another human being?

Especially when this human being was one of my biggest fans.

Precisely at that moment, the rebel opened his mouth, "Corporal, he won't do anything to me. We're talking about Chihye's son here, have some respect for him."

He looked at me with his eyes full of trust, "You wouldn't betray your country by befriending the Revolution's enemy? I know you're dying to fight alongside your mother and fuck Kim up!"

The whole group screamed like there was a fire. My neighbor on the left pointed his rifle at the rebels, "How can you talk about our Beloved Suprême Leader this way?"

The corporal put a gloved hand on his pupil's rifle, "Control yourself," He said with a deep and raspy voice. "He will be punished, but Yoh Song-Ho will do it. Don't you?"

I felt everyone's eyes on my hands. They wanted to know what I would do with my rifle.

The AKM was heavy. It was cold. The boy sentenced to death in front of me smiled, believing in me.

"I..."

Overwhelming thoughts drown me: Mom. The Revolution's symbol. My lifelong dream to survive dictatorship and dance to my heart's content. The pressure crushing my guts.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it! I threw my weapon on the ground, "Mom! Help me! Don't leave me!"

"This is unnecessary." The corporal answered, "She'll be executed this afternoon. There are only a few hours left. Be grateful. We could have judged you by your unhonorable birth."

"That's true. I'm lucky you accepted me even if my mother is the leader of the Revolution. But...I can't. I just want to get out of here, and stop thinking about Big politics in my tiny head. Just leave me alone!" I ran as fast as I could, as far as I could.

"If you wish for it that much...Welcome on the other side."

Behind my back, rifle's clicking announced their will to kill me. They just shot one bullet: their ammo was full.

I ran towards a fence afar from us. To reach it, I would have to run for a bit inside the ankle-deep snow, but if I did it, I could escape this world I never wished to live in the first place.

One of the soldiers shot in my direction.

An overwhelming pain bit my back with sharp hot teeth. I tighten mine and kept on running.

"Come here, Chihye,'s son." Behind a huge car, the boy I should have killed made a gesture toward me to come over.

I took refuge between the car and the wall, "Thanks. And sorry to have pointed you with these horrible things. I'm never touching one of these ever again."

"For a Revolutionaire, not touching a gun will be a bit difficult."

The car's glass broke and some shards hid in my tangled hair.

I was panting and my heart ran like crazy across my chest. I'd do anything to have a quiet time near a fire, with some cotton blanket and a Dumas novel in hand. Why wasn't I born in another country?

More bullets penetrated the car. We hid, face in the snow, waiting for the shooting to stop. Then... no more. No more bullets, no more glass breaking, no anything.

"Did they give up ?" I asked.

"I think it's only the beginning."

"No, they just have understood our will to live." I stood up and looked at what was beyond the car.

Lines and lines of armed people shot at me.

Their bullets were all aimed at me. Turning on themselves at incredible speed, they showed me in advance where they have headed: the wall. I'll just have to go down if I didn't want to be touched. Without hesitation, I did a side split.

My comrade's eyes widened, "Man that was...awesome?"

"You were right. It's merely the beginning."

We separated ourselves from the car and ran without anyone noticing. We didn't have any reason to stay there; the soldiers were about to investigate the car for themselves. In a way, I was glad our assailants were first-years who never touched rifles or bullets in their entire life. It made their shoots easy to calculate.

They were still aiming at us. While my friend ran as fast as he could, I jumped to dodge the bullets. A perfectly executed Saut de Chat. When another bullet came, I only had to let myself fall behind then run again.

Focus, that's what I needed. People were trying to kill me, and if I wanted to avoid bullets flying near my skin, I'd have to focus on the poses.

Think about what Mom always says. Tighten the butt. Dance with the grace of ballet while having control of my muscle. My body danced on a melody no one could hear. This was my paradise in the middle of the blood-stained snow.

Soon, their assailants couldn't shoot. Since the pupils didn't have any ammo anymore, I ran towards my friend, not hiding his enthusiasm, "You're not her son for nothing." He said.

"It's embarrassing me when you compare myself to my mother. She lives on another level. Call me Yoh Song-ho, please.

"Who would disregard their noble ancestor's name? You're Chihye's son. You're lucky § I'm only Lee Jieung-yong. That's all."

I internally rolled my eyes and I focused my eyes on the fence before us. The soldiers had finished filling their ammunitions, and they walked toward us.

I hit the fence. It seemed like there wasn't any door. The soldiers came closer. Some even aimed at us.

Crap. We were done for.

I looked on my right, on my left, everywhere to find that goddamn door. They shot at me. I finally found a little opening on the far left. I slid down, avoiding bullets in the process. I tried to open the door, I even hit it.

Nothing. It didn't even budge. It seemed I needed a key.

The caporal played with some keys on his index, "It's finished for you."

The whole first-year class circled us, and even they couldn't miss us if they closed their eyes. We were screwed.

The corporal ordered them to shoot. I closed my eyelid for what I thought was the last time.

A burning stroke blew me and threw me behind. Before I could understand anything, I was hot, hurt, and my mind blank.

When I came to my senses, tons of sensations overwhelmed me. I had burns on my legs and, in front of me, a fire was eating the corporal and his pupils like puppets thrown into a fire. I was seating on the fence, blown by the explosion.

Sounds of turning propellers forced me to put my hands on my ears. Lee Jieung-yong woke up from sleep and looked up at a helicopter.

A rope ladder was thrown from an open door, and a black hand made a gesture inviting us to enter.

I didn't understand anything anymore. I couldn't process pieces of information as clear as I should. This person wanted us to go in, yes, but what will guarantee that I would be safer up there than down there?

While my mind debated what I should do, an alarm rang throughout the building, and other corporals exited.

Jieung-yong and I stared at each other. Without hesitating, we grabbed the rope.