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Amira and the Red Bottom Shoes
The war changed everything. My life unwound like a ball of yarn tumbling down a flight of stairs. The streets that were once filled with laughter and children playing were soon replaced with the sounds of war. Gunfire, bombs, and the wails of mothers who had lost their children too soon became my new normal.
In October, my school crumbled to the ground. My brother had been lost in the rubble. Mother and Father died on their way to collect his body. In an instant, I became an orphan.
The call came three days later. My father's sister offered to take me in. She lived in America. Even in a time of great sorrow, I can still remember the first time I said the magical words out loud, "I'm moving to America." The butterflies in my stomach started fluttering at that very moment and didn't stop until I stepped out of the airport and into my aunt's outstretched arms.
But, like most fairy tales, mine new life was not what I had expected nor would it be easy. Would I live happily ever after or would my new life in American turn into a living hell?
My name is Amira and this is my story.
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