Chapter Two: How my life drastically changed

The rest of my life seems like a blur to me and a vaguely remember what happens but I am going to skip a few years of my life, to when I was eleven. One night revolutionists came up to our palace. They were trying to demolish it. We had to move to our other castles and mansions. Once we escaped my father asked groups of guards to search for each of our other shelters while we stayed hidden in the forest for a few days. But it was too late, all of our homes were destroyed or burnt. We had no place to live. We had nowhere to stay. I indistinctly recall that we had to live in an old abandoned house and then dozed off.
As I woke up, I saw the condition of the “house” we were now expected to live in. I caught sight of the grimy walls and tarnished floors. It smelt old and damp. This house remained silent. Nobody seemed to live there. When I peeked into the rooms, there were silky cobwebs lying there. Then, when I searched in the attic, I surprisingly saw a young frail lady with her scrawny, feeble children. The woman was horrified to see us. In an instant, she kicked us out and we were forced to live on the streets...
I gaped at the bony undernourished people surrounding us. Rich people gasped once they saw us and greedily took every opportunity to earn as much money as possible. They ignored us and proudly strode past us and looked away as if we were a virus attempting to infect them. If they just let us use some money maybewoulddn’t get diseases. “How are they supposed to realise that if they were in the same position as us, they would have a mental breakdown!” I wailed to my parents
I dreaded waking up every day and each night. Living on the deserted streets in North Africa was not ideal for me. How could I look forward to this appalling life? This demonstrated how much my family really meant to me. I missed the gentle breeze as it brushed against my face; watching the romantic ivory-coloured swans as they floated elegantly on the lake and going out shopping with my friends. However, most of all, I missed looking through the memory albums with my family. I wish things were back the way they used to be.
Life was dragging on. It was enduring. Starvation approached me without warning. Coldness encroached upon me and my fingertips became numb. A shiver slid uncontrollably down my spine. Step by step, I questioned why my father was not working to earn money. Subsequently, I realised that he was fired. My poor mother was incredibly depressed and absent minded. I tried begging on the streets, but nobody actually believed that I was deprived. People thought I was attention-seeking. Following that, I attempted scavenging for food in the rubbish, but there was nothing edible in those bins. I pleaded my father and demanded him to find a job. My father struggled finding a job, but was rejected time after time. As he gave up, I saw the melancholy look on his face. This made me feel dejected.
I gathered a group of poor people and we started protesting noisily to make people alert. We were as loud as the ambulance sirens! Yet, still people didn’t even stop and notice. They just tried living their lives as if everything was normal. The only way they recognized us was as the ‘ugly needy ones’. All they wanted to do was to get rid of us. That was what those oblivious inconsiderate people actually did- they phoned the police and they ordered that we had to stop otherwisewouldd have a life sentence in jail therefore we stopped. But I was not going to give up because of careless selfish people!

Chapter Three: A Fight for Survival

It was a fight for survival for me. I refused to give up, otherwise, I would have starved. As I peeped around me, I saw many strangers. They were casually dining in their grand homes, not appreciating what they have. Ironically, there were other people searching for any leftovers they could find. Previously, I was a rich, ungrateful person. Now, I see the trouble I have to go through and regret the things I said: it is really ironic!
What was I supposed to do, though? There was nothing left to do except wait for something like what you do when you wish upon a star. However we were not living in a fairy tale, we were just waiting for a miracle to happen. Anything! The urge to be; free of unfairness, live in harmony, living in world peace, living in my old comfy palace (which was demolished) and making the rich believe that we are people as well.
Malnourishment slapped me on the face. Yet, I was not thinking of myself, but of those with me. I was particularly anguished over my younger sister. She was suffering famine. Alex looked pallid, skeletal and ghastly. She was as pale as a ghost. This made me feel despair. Each moment I gazed at her, I would burst into tears. On the contrary, it made me feel strong and determined to escape the claws of poverty.
Poverty was like a prison cell that you could not break- there was no escape to it! The hunger and yearn to eat just when crumb filled my brain. The fear of actually not surviving and something horrifying occur to the people I love terrified me. It was the miserable truth. Just thinking how my life could have been if I was forced to live on the streets depresses me- now I do not have any opportunity to get to do anything significant in my life.
Each day, bones weaken, people die and perish on the streets. Then, eerie dogs suffering, too, eat the last pieces of their bodies. Now they are the dogs’ scraps of food. I would never imagine that I would have to experience these shocking events. I became especially emotional after this. It jusdidn't’t make sense. Dogs are loving animals or typically known as the man’s best friend how could they eat humans. The only way this could happen is if they were so desperate that they were on the extent of dying. They result in making me sob for days with those horrendous images filling my brain. Many people say they are paying money to charity but where does this money go in the filthy rich peoples’ hands. Is it all just a scam? I honestly do not understand.

Chapter Four: Determined to save my Sister

Those previous events caused me to have a few psychological issues but I really did not want to be in poverty and sent to an asylum, so I shut up about it. Depending on my survival and being stressed about my sister’s survival once made me had a panic attack- I was very anxious about it! I never dreamed about saying this when I was nine but visualising my poor little sister lying on the floor and dogs or vultures eating up her last pieces of meat just made me want to fight for her more! For once in my entire lifetime, I was determined to do something helpful towards somebody other than myself.
Sometimes, to try and heal Alex I must travel across the desert by foot and into different countries struggle managing to find any source of food and water. Water was extremely rare but especially vital for Alex as it cleanses the body. Without medicine, I don’t know how she would live. I had to steal. It was critical for this situation. However, there was a crisis I did not know which medicines she required. I was illiterate! In result of that, I became fraught.
Being strong-headed was my state of mind. If something terrible occurred, I would sob for a bit then move on. I tried begging on the streets again. When this failed to succeed, I treaded into rural houses and stole food from there. I did this for weeks until a man spotted me and complained to the council. What else can I do? Starve on the streets. I don’t think so! I thought to myself. It was a challenging, difficult life!
Not knowing how to do hard work made me feel irritated at used to be, being spoilt. I should have gone to the soup kitchen when offered. My sister was the opposite of me she knew how to do hard work but she was dying. If only I could have advice from someone like her. My parents had already passed away after several weeks of living here there bodies could not adapt only a few sips of water and many crumbs of food each day. My father had Intestinal parasites in his body and I attempted to hunt for a cure but it was no use- he died. My mother just passed away of starvation- I could barely recognize her. Her skin colour used to be a light tan colour now it’s a pale whitish colour. I am not going to even allow my sister to pass away – she is the only family I have left. I do not want to be by myself for the rest of my entire life.
A short while after that, Alex suffered from malaria. She had severe breathing difficulties, fever, chills and tiredness. Although I was determined, in my heart I felt sorrowful. I searched eagerly for a doctor, but doctor visits were very expensive and I found nobody to help my adorable, little sister. I tried my best to support her through her illness and stole medications from houses. However, this was not enough...