Every Falling Star: The True Story of How I Survived and Escaped North Korea

by Sungju Lee

Greed and ego, however, lay a foundation of destruction. The house that is built on such a foundation, one day, no matter what, will be torn down.”

“And Bo-Cho?” I asked instead. My father looked down and bit his lip as if he were trying not to weep. “Who will look after him?” I cried out. “Someone will,” he said. I turned quickly and ran to the front door, my father not far behind me, calling my name and telling me to stop. But I didn’t stop until I was outside, where I saw one of my father’s colleagues leading Bo-Cho away on a leash. I willed my feet to move faster than they’ve ever moved in my life. I chased after the man, but as I turned a corner, I ran right into a lady pushing a baby in a pram. I landed on the hard concrete with a thud. I lay on the ground wailing, as my mother had wanted me to do when Kim Il-sung died,

“I think, when we stop dreaming, we’re just as good as dead,”

I think the worst thing anyone can do is make them stop believing in something higher, something good, something pure, a reason for everything—hope, maybe. God, maybe.”