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I watched through a window as my neighbors were shot on our doorstep by the Syrian soldiers. I ran from my home, scared, with my parents. We carried very little.

We traveled for days. So many people hurt us. We waited at the border of Northern Iraq. I didn’t like being in a new place. We didn’t know what would happen.

We now live at the camp in Koya. We sleep on the floor. It’s so hot. Everything is old concrete. I push water and sewage down the street as part of my chores. I feel alone because my dad has left us to find work in other cities.

We left everything behind. I have lost my belongings, my home, my aunts and uncles and cousins, friends and neighbors, my school, my language. Everything is different. I don’t think this is a good life. I have no control over my circumstances. I hope things change. I want life to be normal.