The young woman who was born in Sudan now is trying to making a fresh, new start in America. She was shot in the back by an unknown assailant, and she is now a paraplegic, paralyzed from the waist on down. She gets around now by a wheelchair, or for short trips, Lofstrand crutches.
Pulalay is now going to school. She wants to become a writer and is taking writing, journalism, and English courses.
Hello! Do you remember me?
If not, my name is Pulalay Halah Khelefi. I am originally from Sudan, in East Africa, and I came to America only about a year or so ago.
I came to America because my country has a lot of problems with starvation, wars, and violence; and I didn't want to be in danger, so I came to America. I love America, but it isn't my homeland, and it is so much different here. It takes a lot to get used to, and my English is still not as good as I would like it to be. (I am using an English dictionary to help me with spelling and to find the right words to use as I write this down.)
I am Muslim; I was raised in the Muslim faith, and I guess that I will always BE Muslim. I go to mosque every evening for prayer around five; and I pray five times a day and read my Qu'uran every day. I try to be a dutiful Muslim, but ever since America was attacked in 2001, many people do not like Muslims, which makes me sad because most Muslims aren't like the Muslim terrorists that attacked America. Most Muslims are good, gentle people. And I am one of the good Muslims.
Life has been very hard for me. I have seen members of my family shot or killed, and I have seen family members die of starvation back in my native home in Sudan. Of my remaining family members, I do not know if they are dead or alive; I never hear from anyone anymore, and it upsets me. Life here in America has been hard, too, because I was shot in the back, and now I can no longer walk. I use a wheelchair, and I use walking sticks for short trips; and I get so tired so fast. I do not know why that person shot me, but ever since, my life is no longer the same. I also was homeless for a time, but now I am living in a place for people who don't have much money, and I am now going to school. I am going to school to become a writer. I want to be a writer, and I am learning to better my English and how to write. I have tried to look for different jobs before I started to go to schooling, but nobody want to hire me. Maybe if I get college degree I will get a job, which is why I want to do this. I want my life to be better than it has been so far.
I am very tall, over 6'5" tall. I am of the Dinka tribe of Sudan; Dinka are very tall and thin in build, and they raise cattle for a living. But now I am here in America, and I don't raise cattle any longer. Instead, I am trying to get my life put back together ever since being shot, and I have my bad days and my good days. Most days are okay, but at times, I still cry because I wonder why that person shot me, and now I will never be the same again. I wonder what would have happened if that person missed me or if I were killed. I do know this much, though: if I were to go back to Sudan, I would not be of any use; and people would probably kill me too. I would be nothing but a burden to them, and that makes me very sad.
I am sorry, but I have to stop writing, as I feel something wet come to my eyes. I am very sad as I think of what all has happened, and I think of my family back in Sudan, and I wonder if they even think of me--or are even still ALIVE. I hate to think of all the troubles plaguing my country in Sudan, and I wonder if I have done the right thing by coming to America. Maybe I should just go back to Sudan and let them kill me; maybe my life isn't worth living anymore--
Suspenseful and close to home, Rain of Deception 2 will leave you in Tears. Much like Part 1, this will shocking sequel will keep you on the edge of your fingertips.
