It was another noisy day. We could hear some bombing far away and would just shrug if asked where it was. We never even stopped to imagine how scary those sounds were, what did they actually mean?, whom did it kill? Or maybe we just stopped caring or did care but since there was nothing we could do we just gave in to that thought, and for a while we actually stopped fearing those sounds as if we stopped fearing death itself. We went to sleep that night normally like we always do, and from here I’ll try as much as possible to tell this story from everyone’s side starting with my mom; who I believe was the one who had the biggest shock.
We went to sleep that day like any other day, with no care in the world, thinking that like always nothing will happen. My mom, however, had this feeling inside her that something will happen so she couldn’t sleep. And then, around 2 am, when everything was very quiet, she heard the sound of a rocket for a mere second before every quietness she ever knew blown away as all the windows in her room shattered, ripping apart all the curtains she had, and thankfully only grazing her slightly. The first thought she had however were “my kids”. She ran to the other rooms checking on everyone while shouting and crying. Everyone was ok, but one didn’t answer the calling and his room was closed. Despair hit her and she fell to her knees. Imagining all the dark things that must have happened. After all, this son’s room was the closest to the bombing.
That door was my closed door.
At that time, I might have lost consciousness for a minute. My leg was bleeding, my hand was bleeding, and I was dizzy and I couldn’t hear a thing. By the time I realized it, I was removing piles of broken glass that was all over me. I stood up, shook my head and opened the door where my brother was shouting “he opened the door!” Repeatedly. My mother was still crying but this time out of relief. She demanded we go downstairs, and I agreed; I wanted to check on the others.
The whole house was in smoke and everyone was at the stairs looking at each other. Everyone was afraid, but not everyone showed it the same way. Some didn’t talk until the next day, and some cried and kept praying, but there was also the bunch that joked and laughed and tried to calm everyone up. Thankfully no one got hurt that night, but it wasn’t as if we couldn’t get hurt. If everyone was just one centimeter off, one centimeter in the wrong side, I bet no one would have made it that night. That’s why I’m really thankful for everything.