I often stayed on late in the office. My colleagues and the caretaker thought I was studying. I liked the quiet hours after a busy day. Sometimes I read but mostly I turned over things in my mind and wrote up my diary even though there were things I could not frankly put down.

It was going to be my last night. I wrote several letters to various people and went over the names of those whom I would have liked to invite to my wedding had I been fated to have one. There were too many. Instead of writing individually I left a few words to each in a notebook. Finally I wrote to the Director.

The Office

8.00 p.m.

24. 11. 1959

Dear Professor Kang,

I have a confession to make.

For the past two years I have led a secretive life that amounts to a disgrace to myself and a betrayal to all those people most dear to me, my family and friends, yourself and my colleagues who cared for me and expected great things of me, and to an extent, to my beloved country. Things came to a point, where I have no choice but to take my life.

I had started it with good conscience, and even now my conscience stands clear. God is my witness. When I entered it in my innocence, I didn't think it would turn out to be like this.

Ah, how lucky I thought I was when you offered me this job a few days before my graduation three years ago. How single-heartedly I loved my job, my colleagues, and the noble ideals that you had set out to achieve through this institution, until this strange fate befell me as if out of the blue.

Even though I have long since bid this world farewell, now I feel as if I am speaking to you in person and it makes me weep all over again. Memories of the happy times I have had here, the eyes and smiles of my dear colleagues rouse afresh in me the deepest love. Even the inanimate objects in this room like desks, cabinets and pictures seem to come alive and cling onto me. But there is no other option, I must go my chosen way.