On April 9 last year, Room 201 of the Jeonju District Court in Jeonju, North Jeolla Province. A (44), charged with arson of an inhabited building resulting in death, stood in the dock. While her boyfriend B was drunk and asleep, she set the house on fire and escaped alone. B died, and A was sitting near the outdoor restroom on the property when police arrested her in the act.

Having kept her head bowed throughout the previous trial, A looked toward the gallery that day for the first time. Then she burst into tears. In the gallery, about 100 women standing in solidarity with A were watching over her.

A was sentenced to 10 years in prison. She abandoned her Supreme Court appeal, finalizing the sentence, and A is currently incarcerated at Cheongju Women Correctional Institution in North Chungcheong Province. On the 9th, through her lawyer, A said, “In court that day I thought I was alone, but I realized I was not.”

A grew up in a small neighborhood in Iksan, North Jeolla. “Tomatoes are famous there, so I grew up eating a lot of tomatoes,” she said. Living with her father, A was a quiet child of few words. “Kids’ games felt childish,” so even when friends asked her to play, she spent time alone. Fond of books and music, A grew into an adult who disliked flowers because it saddened her to see roses wither, and who loved quiet winter streets where few people passed. And in the summer of 2019, she met B.

The two mostly spent time drinking the alcohol they liked. At some point, when he was drunk, B would bring up A’s ex and hit her. Between July 2019 and May 2023, at least 31 reports were filed with the Iksan and Gunsan police stations. On October 23, 2022, when A sent a 112 text message saying “Please save me,” B held a weapon to her throat. He repeatedly struck her face to keep her from going out. If she fought back or refused his demands, he beat her more severely. A learned that “staying still meant getting hit less” (A’s police statement).

B, who had been sentenced to one year in prison for assault, was released on May 3, 2024, after serving his term. A week later, a relative’s cell phone rang. A believed B when he said, “I really will not hit you; please come home.” When she went to the house in Gunsan, B said, “I went to prison because of you,” then choked her and again struck her face. Her phone was taken away, and there were only fields around. While B, drunk, slept, A set the living-room blanket on fire.

As A’s case became known during her trial, women formed a joint countermeasures committee. At the closing hearing in the appellate trial, the court said, “Around 4,000 citizens signed petitions asking for leniency for the defendant.” A burst into tears. At the next sentencing hearing, she neatly tied back the hair she had always worn loose and lifted her head. As she left, she looked toward the gallery.

In prison, A said she reads books as she did in childhood. She asked the committee to send ‘sad books.’ “If I am crying while reading, it looks as if I am crying because of the book,” so she chose only sad books to read, but recently she began reading letters. On the 7th, the committee delivered to A 56 letters sent by citizens. In the letters, women called her a ‘survivor’ rather than a ‘victim’ or a ‘perpetrator.’ They wrote, “Please keep living.” When she reads those words, A keeps breaking into tears even though they are not sad books. “What stays with me are the women who say they went through the same thing. I am grateful, and I am sad. Now I want to be a source of comfort to them.” A now wants to pass on to other women the letters that said, “Thank you for staying alive.”