Peace in our hands
This page is part of the trAce project
J G Janaih in Neon City
by Courtnee, 8
I come from Jamaica. I got pushed out -- they broke my back with a steel crowbar. All I can remember was waking up in hospital. I could not move my back.
My new country was called Neon City. People from all over the world came to visit me and they called me the Survivor. The police officers and the search team and my family found me 2 years later.
What kind of rules would make a better place to live in?
There are no rules but -- no war! It is warm. Everyone is polite.
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