I hadn’t slept alone in my room since 7 October.
It wasn’t just the fear of the bombings that kept me from sleeping there; it was the thought of dying alone under the rubble if our house got bombed.
Every night, I took my pillow and blanket and slept in my parents’ room. Even though nowhere is safe from bombardment, I felt safest with them.
We always said to each other, “If we were to die, we would want to die together.” It was a somber thought, but being together made it feel a little less frightening.
One morning, my father approached me and hugged me tightly. I felt his tears on my shoulder. ….more