From War to Peace

From War to Peace

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jan 16, 2017
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Non-Fiction
Peace is knowing that one can go through trials and tribulations and still rise to tell their story. Born in the war-torn country of the former Sudan, Nyibol did not expect to walk over a thousand miles at the age of 5, or live in several refugee camps located in Ethiopia and Kenya after she was forced to leave her grandmother from a village in South Sudan, currently the world's newest nation after its secession from Sudan. Nyibol Bior couldn't understand why the world was so cruel and why love was no more after she was taken away from her grandmother to live in a refugee camp with the rest of her family. While on her journey to unknown destinations, full of destructions and fear, she felt on her knees and wished for death to come before even knowing what it was. Dying seemed better to her over walking endless miles without food or repose; until one day she had a dream which pushed her to have the realization that humanity is not dead. Nyibol overcame adversity by choosing to embrace the storm, living in over three different foreign lands, from the late 1980s to present day. She migrated to the United States at the age of 12 with her entire family of 9 in 1995. Nyibol began telling her story while she learned to speak English; writing what she could only remember from a child's perspective. The story covers her experience in the second civil war of Sudan and the countries she lived in after that. She explains how her persistence kept her going after the war, but most importantly, how she obtained peace by accepting that war may exist, but humanity isn't dead. Her story is extremely motivational, written for the young and old; once you read it, you'll never again think about giving up on your dreams.
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Static

{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16

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