October 7th 2023

I awoke, confused, the weight of drowsiness still clinging to my eyes. My mind struggled to process the sounds that reached my ears. What is happening? I said goodnight to a world that seemed like any other, yet now it unfolded before me in unfamiliar ways.

My gaze shifted to the clock on the opposite wall. It pointed to six, sharp and unyielding. Panic surged within me. “Why didn’t you wake me at five, as I asked, Mum?” Today was crucial—an exam awaited me, and I needed to review my notes before going to school. This was my final year in secondary school, and success was non-negotiable.

Across the room, my sister lay curled in her bed. Knees pressed tightly to her chest; head lowered—forming an embryo shape seeking refuge. Her eyes, wide open, mirrored my own unrest. I raised my voice, “Why didn’t you wake me, sis? I’ll be late for school!” She gave no answer.

Mum’s reply came in a hushed tone. “There is no school today.” Her words hung heavy, laden with meaning. Then she added, “It seems that we are experiencing another escalation round. But don’t worry, everything will be okay.”

I parted the curtains and looked skyward. Doubt gnawed at me. Rockets streaked across the heavens, they looked feeble but their thunderous roar deafening. I reached for my mobile to check the news, a habit ingrained since childhood. I’m seventeen but, I had witnessed five wars and countless escalations. Yet this moment felt different and ominous.

The news offered no solace. Everyone in the family did the same, desperate for a clarification, but there was nothing. Could it be a dream? A cruel joke? No. It was war. We sensed it and news confirmed our fears afterwards. My heart sank, plummeting to my legs and beyond. A void replaced it, coldness seeped into my limbs and froze the blood in my veins. Dark days will come and darker nights will follow.

I rose and watched my mother’s preparations. She moved with the urgency of a bee, rifling through drawers and cupboards.  Filling a bag she reserved for travel. Paradoxically, I reached for my school bag, Paradoxically, I heavily moved and extended my hand to pick my school bag, I flipped it upside down throwing my notes and schoolbooks on my desk and dumbly asked myself, ‘what should I take with me if I were forced to leave my house. Like a zombie I moved. I took a collection of socks and stuffed them in my bag, why, I have no idea, maybe because they were the last things I wanted to be and they just arrived yesterday, stupid? Could be, but I’m wearing them now after 90 days of the war on Gaza. I’m staring at them now and imagining living in a faraway planet where human rights are still meaningful.

In this forgotten world, where innocence crumbled and resilience took root, we clung to hope. Now, our lives, like dry autumn leaves, fall down each passing moment. And as rockets continued their deadly dance, we braced for what lay ahead—our stories etched in the records of survival.