"Only I can change my life. No one can do it for me." - Carol Burnett
Opening the small closet, I stared at the small amount of clothes I had, trying to figure which ones to wear. I tapped my foot, trying to decide. Eventually, I had settled on jet-black pants and a crimson shirt, which my mother would probably look at me questionably for wearing. I quickly, and clumsily, put it on. My thin legs "gracefully" carried me to the bathroom and I picked up my plastic brush and started combing my browning hair. It had grown over time and is now more brown than black. I took my time to brush my hair. I stared at the mirror while doing so and kept on thinking about how different everything is here in America. In Juba, I would have typically worn a handmade tobe with colorful patterns. It was meters of fabric worn over the body. I have seen a long tobe that would cover the heads of women, but our traditional south Sudanese tobe was short and would not cover the head.
I was getting ready to see Jonathan again. We had met him about a month ago, but now we can actually spend time with him. Just like the good old days. The thought that Paco and I could finally see our friend again was magnificently nerve racking. What would he think of us? What would he say? All these thoughts about nervousness was making my face heat up. I hated being nervous and I found it embarrassing.
I had met up with Paco, who was simply standing there. He didn't seem all to excited.
" What's wrong Paco?" He looked at me in confusion.
"Nothing. Why did you ask?"
" You don't seem so excited. Usually, you would be jumping up and down in joy."
"I just don't feel so good about Jonathan. He was a bully. He also called me little last time. You know I don't like that."
I laughed and started walking to the park. The park near our small apartment place was where we decided we would meet up. The walk there was quite pleasant. It was nice and quiet. We saw Jonathan and walked to ward him. Once again we were reunited with what we call our family.
YOU ARE READING
Kabur
Historical FictionKabur. To Flee. To Escape. Paco, Yana, and Jonathan are from South Sudan. They lived in a village near Juba, the Capital. Or at least, they used to. Juba was attacked. The Civil War was causing Chaos. The People wanted Christianity. The Government w...
