It’s in moments like these that I am filled with some unspoken form of joy, pride, and hope. Today marks the fourth anniversary of the growing mound of grief we have become. It is hard to come to terms with the thought that when this started I was a teenager that just turned sixteen and now I am twenty and in my third year of university, still alive. Four years later and I am still beating the odds, one torturous day after the other. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought this is how my life would turn out; a constant fear of tomorrow. As this aggression continues to end the souls of many and leaving people homeless you would think that this is where it ends. You would think that the bombs are all we fear; those missile falling from the sky like comets just with the additional fear of death, but it is not, these four years have changed the place I call home. The pain lies here in the fact it hasn’t changed because of the destruction of homes or the death of people al
On a voyage to find myself under the showers of air raids