Heap of dust.

So many cry.

So much confusion.

This was yet another attack, but this time it reached my house.

I don't know what happened exactly, but I remember there were some people that pulled me out of the rubble and were healing me.

I found myself with one chest injury and a head bandage and I started looking for my parents.

I continued to dig, removed stones, but I found nothing but burnt objects and fabrics.

Suddenly I heard someone shouting ... 

They found my parents! 

I run and when arrived, I found two lifeless bodies on the ground whose faces were unrecognizable from blood and death.

I trembled... I cried... My knees could no longer hold me.

I couldn't hold back the tears.

They told me that I was a man and that I shouldn't cry, but I couldn't.

The pain was unbearable.

A nice couple next to me told me that I had to be strong and that I was lucky to have come out of it with only a few injuries. 

I, on the other hand, would rather die. 

Mom, dad, why didn't you take me away with you? I can't live without your support, why did you abandon me? 

I got up and started walking regardless of what was next to me: soldiers who shoot, bombs, women and children who tried to hide and defend their life at all costs. 

Instead I am here waiting for a bullet to take me away.

Here there are some people who are locked up in their homes without water, food and electricity, and outside their homes there are soldiers who are under the order to shoot anyone who goes out.

Perhaps that death, even if more painful and lacerating, would have brought me to you much earlier.

I looked around and found that I have entered the city cemetery.

Even the cemetery was a victim of bombs. Not even the dead can stay peacefully underground in this country. There are rubble everywhere. 

Here is where the orphans sleep and they say that this is a great refuge.

 I lie on top of a grave while I feel dragged down by the fatigue. 

As I fall asleep I think back to your warm bodies, your smiles and your preaches that I miss very much.

I still can't believe you're gone.

______________________________________________

Chapter 2 - Sara

They are all in the living room trying to somehow distract themselves, who reads, who writes and who looks out the window waiting for the freedom bell.

I am here with dad to study, although we both know it will not help since we will die soon.

At some point dad starts coughing. We haven't drunk water for three days and we must wait for the permission to leave.In the meantime, we must suffer from hunger and thirst.

Our stomach is torturing us with hunger and our throats are begging for water.

We are in the part of the city with the curfew and while we are here waiting for death, others see blood and rubble every second.I don't know what the worst position is.

Two days ago my grandmother died and we left her in a room locked for not letting the smell of decay leak out, but the more time passes, the more feels the stench.

They don't even let us take her out and bury her.They treat us like animals. I can't take it anymore, none of us can take it anymore. We have exceeded the limit of human patience.

And mom is going crazy. I don't recognize her anymore.

When grandma died, mom started screaming and was about to go out to get killed because she no longer wanted to see someone else in the family die like this. 

Luckily my uncle and dad stopped her just in time.

Right now, on the other hand, she is going up and down with her torso and saying incomprehensible things with a low voice.

It frightens me.