- Author
- 02/11/2018
- 1,477 Words
- 2,464 Views
- 40 Comments
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Girl Who Stole the Sun - 1. Pyeongchang 2018
She was always surrounded by people and that morning there seemed to be more than usual. It made me wonder if the rumours had already reached the practice rink.
Surely not. I had to remain positive. The thought of losing her right at the end, after making it this far, would have broken my heart. I don’t think that I would have been able to carry on.
I was choking on my nerves; too much time to think. How could she remain so calm, knowing what she was about to do? I could only imagine what must have been going through her mind at the time, yet her face betrayed no emotion as she listened to her sombre-faced coach. I doubt if she was paying much attention to that bitter old hag, the routine didn’t matter anymore and soon she would never have to see her again.
Earlier I had watched her on the ice practising her routine with steely precision for what I hoped would be her last appearance in a North Korean uniform. She looked focused and resolute, producing a near-perfect performance in front of worlds press and raising expectations of a possible gold medal for the North. It seemed to please her entourage and may have bought her some valuable time.
After a flawless performance in her first routine yesterday Sun Song-Jung was now everyone’s favourite to become the first North Korean figure skater to win Olympic gold and what a place to do it. In Pyeongchang, the home Olympics of their arch enemy.
My coach gave me the all-clear when as I left the ice following my practice. For the first time, his words had no relevance to the approaching competition which we had been training, every day for, for the past six years. It no longer mattered, even the Olympic gold medal which had seemed fleetingly within our reach, suddenly seemed insignificant in comparison. We were aiming much higher than that now.
She looked a little tense as I walked past her towards the women’s locker rooms. Her eyes met fleetingly with mine before she looked away and I kept my head down and picked up pace knowing that she would soon follow me.
There were only three other girls inside the large wood panelled locker room. Two American girls and a Chinese skater who I knew well. We had been competing against each other since we were kids. Figure skating was a small community, but a fiercely competitive sport. I acknowledged the American girls with a nod and a false smile and they did the same before whispering to each other and leaving. Rumours perhaps of something that I had been trying desperately to contain but which was probably now spreading around the Olympic Village like wildfire.
I placed the bag on the bench next to me and waited for my angel to appear.
Sun Song-Jung was a priceless catch and the jewel in the North Korean crown. She was their brightest hope in a competition overshadowed by the constant threat of hostilities between the divided nations. It had reached fever pitch a few days prior to the opening ceremony with rumours of a North Korean withdrawal amid intense security measures that were stifling what the organisers had hoped would be a games of reconciliation. It was nonsense from the beginning; we were technically still at war and the North had been testing ballistic missiles capable of carrying nuclear warheads.
To lose such a prized asset to their hated enemy would be a huge blow to the dictatorship and a massive propaganda victory for the South and our American allies. For us though, the politics meant nothing. It wasn’t about that, although they would probably never understand. She was risking her life. If she failed, she would likely never be seen again but she wasn’t doing this out of any misguided loyalty to another country, she was doing it to be with me and the chance to be with someone who she wasn’t allowed to love.
In my mind, we were still in my room. In bed, safe, warm, secure. It was light years away but less than three hours ago. We had talked and made love the whole night, too excited and too frightened to sleep. Then the time had raced forward and hours felt like minutes but now a minute was an eternity. I stared at my watch, tapping it furiously trying to make it go quicker.
She arrived on the stroke of eleven, her timing on and off the ice was perfect but she looked startled when she saw me almost as if she hadn’t expected to see me there, in the place where we had arranged to meet. We embraced quickly; it was instinctive but something we were told not to do. There wasn’t the time for that and they didn’t want any of the other competitors to see us together.
I spoke in Korean. “Be brave,” I said as I handed her the bag. It was a ridiculous piece of advice to the bravest person that I had ever met. “We have to hurry.”
She changed in one of the washroom stalls as I stood guard outside, nervously counting the seconds in my head. If she took too long, then her coach would come looking for her. The would sometimes panic for no reason at all.
Sun Song left the stall and came to stand before me dressed in a South Korean tracksuit. It was an exact replica of the one that I was wearing even the competitor number and security pass was the same. She released her hair band and allowed her hair to fall forward similar to mine and I arranged in the same way as I would my own. She was only slightly smaller than me but we looked similar. Both Korean but from different sides of the divide. For the next ten minutes or so she would have to become me.
“The time,” she said. “I must hurry.”
The final prop was my necklace; a gift from my father. It had brought me luck in the past and had never left me. I unfastened it for the first time since I was a young girl and fixed it around the neck of my lover as my hands trembled with fear.
The stakes could not have been higher. If they recognised her they would bundle her away and she would be back in the North within hours. The price for such a blatant act of treason would almost certainly be death, carried out as soon as possible to placate an irate and unpredictable leader.
“Whatever happens,” she said. “I love you.”
Those words went through me like a bullet.
“Go,” I said. “I’ll see you outside.” I kissed her on the lips and smiled as she took a deep breath, turned and walked out. There was nothing else that I could do except hope and cry as I held her old uniform in my hands.
I hid in one of the stalls and waited for the inevitable chaos. Perhaps ten minutes that was all they allowed before her sour-faced coach entered the room looking for her. I could hear here searching and calling Song Sun’s name but the more desperate her tone and more frantic her hunt became the more I was able to relax.
Within twenty minutes the locker room was filled with security and I was forced out of hiding. It no longer mattered; if they were still searching for her then I knew that she had made it.
“You,” she said. “Where is she?” It was the first time that her coach had ever talked to me directly but she knew who I was and she knew my connection to her protégé. She had seen us talking in the beginning and recognised the danger. Sun Song was forbidden from seeing me, but we found a way and her efforts were ultimately doomed to failure. This was the old lady’s worst nightmare.
“She’s free,” I said, “and soon she’ll be happy.”
Her hand smacked my face knocking me sideways before the security guards intervened and dragged her away. I knew that it would be the last time I ever saw her and I didn’t blame her for hating me. I had robbed her of everything; her superstar, her career, her status, maybe even her life.
A North Korean figure skater defecting to the South was always going to make headlines but this one came with a love story attached and to make it really interesting it involved two girls. A newspaper editor’s dream. Rumours which were already sweeping through the Olympic Village would soon be with the press and common knowledge. By the morning I would be known all over the world as the girl who stole the Sun.
-
10
-
19
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Recommended Comments
Chapter Comments
-
Newsletter
Sign UpSign Up and get an occasional Newsletter. Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.