Refugee from an unknown land

I am Marianna Wadda and I'm 15 years old. I am the daughter of one
of the most hated men in a land that no one has heard of (Vastelray)
and my family and I were in hiding from his haters.
It all started out when he started a demonstration in the capital, was
caught and was taken to a huge deadly prison. He escaped and soon him,
my mama, 4 sisters, 3 brothers and I were running for our lives, as
they wanted any one of us. The reward was immensely huge and if they
caught us they were going to kill us straight off, so mama and papa
took out all of our savings in disguise and contacted a group who
specialised in illegal immigrations. They spent nearly all our savings
to do this. We were supposed to be sailing for America, but we were
stopped at somewhere I had never heard of before called England. But on
the way 3 of my sisters and 1 of my brothers died from suffocation and
starvation, but I wasn't going to die as I really wanted to make it to
our new 'life'. They were very friendly to us and we were taken to a
refugee centre, where we stayed for many months. Eventually papa gave
up hope of us ever living in a real house again and committed suicide.
He left behind 2 daughters, 2 sons and a very weak wife, who died from
grief not long after. From there we were taken to an orphanage and
since I was born disabled no one wanted to adopt me. Before long I had
said goodbye to all my remaining siblings and found myself all alone in
a huge world. Eventally two years after arriving in England a kind
woman in her thirties and her husband adopted me into their warm home
in London. There I had my own room (in my hometown I shared a room with
my sisters) and a brother. I attended a school for the first time in my
life as before only boys went to school in Vastelray and I worked in a
clothes factory for little pay. Now I actually feel safe about walking
in the street on my own without being taken off to work as a
slave.
I have thought about returning to my home country many times but fear
for my life if they still remember that I am the daughter of Wildam
Wadda. Since living in England I have met other refugees, but not from
where I come from. I have not heard from my siblings for four years and
I doubt I ever will.