I had just returned home from a day at the beach with my family. It was like any other day. We had chatted and laughed and shared food. I cleaned the sand from my feet and was just relaxing, while listening to the news. I truly had no idea what was in store for me – or us.

Then it began. The bombs started falling from the sky. A building in the center of my city was hit by two missiles. Anyone who heard the sound of those explosions would have known that a war had broken out. It was unmistakable and just like in the movies. Sadly, this was our real life.

To us, the people beneath the planes dropping death and destruction, it felt as though the world didn’t care. That we must be worthless and therefore helpless. How could they let this happen? In the days that followed, we were considered collateral damage as rockets continued to rise and fall. The news of death and destruction replaced any other news on the television.

It felt like an impossible situation. But we knew that we must survive. Therefore, running scared was not an option. There is that common saying: that you must pull yourself together. But why do you need to pull yourself together, I asked myself? I’m not entirely sure.

The most terrifying thing

Once the war had started, the most terrifying thing was the night. With its great darkness, silence and stillness. This became the great unknown, when we were at our most vulnerable.

We watched the television for updates all day long. And we knew that we could survive the war during the daytime, when we could see what was coming. But our cowardly enemy would also attack us at night when we tried to get some much-needed rest. This has an intolerable toll on our mental health.

We gradually became familiar with this increasingly difficult situation. Laying in bed at night, knowing that we could wake up to the sounds of rockets. This was essential, if we were to survive the bombing. Because we must be prepared for what is coming – even at night when we try to sleep. Our mental health continued to suffer and we could very easily have gone insane, as a result of the constant state of panic and readiness.

I once heard another common saying: that you shouldn’t wake a person suddenly while they are sleeping. Because doing so might distress them and have a bad effect on their hearts. I wondered to myself if our enemy dropping those bombs at night knew this saying also?

I was delirious and am not sure how the remaining days went by. But I do remember that I found it difficult to stay awake as my body struggled without sleep. I frequently woke up in a state of terror and fear. Even, at times, when there had been no bombing. My fragile brain would imagine it and I would hallucinate like a lunatic.

Hope is dangerous

At 8 p.m. on the third day of the war, we heard that a ceasefire had been declared. We were exhausted and all of a sudden hope appeared. I started thinking that this horror could finally be over. But we now know that hope is a dangerous and harmful feeling. You should never provide hope to someone who is desperate for it, because false hope is so bitter and cruel. And that can be very dangerous to them.

I was closely watching the clock’s movement. Waiting for it to turn to 8 so that I might be released from this horror and finally be reborn again. The minutes extended past the hours. Time went by slowly, painfully slow.

Unfortunately, the inevitable happened and further rockets rained down on us after the clock struck 8pm. We had been misled in the cruelest of ways. With our hopes now crushed and losing the will to live, we went back to our rooms to bunker down. The difference between life and death could not be less. We wanted to put an end to this misery, even if that meant through death.

So I ask you this: is it natural for a teenager to be thinking about death? Deep down, I had always wanted to leave this world peacefully and normally. However, passing away peacefully in my country seems to be impossible.

Shortly before midnight, another truce was declared but we didn’t believe it because the previous ceasefire had been broken. Deep down we still prayed and wished for it to be true though. That is inevitable because survival is in our nature.

This time the truce was held and the fighting stopped. Once the bombing was over, there was a great sense of relief and gladness. It was the middle of the night, but the end of the war is a moment people here will always celebrate so we poured out onto the streets to embrace in the moment together and share our collective relief.

Survival celebration (not really)

The following day, I went to my friend’s house to celebrate our survival. As we were relaxing and swimming, I watched my friends who were enjoying the moment and the life that we still had. When all of a sudden something appeared in the sky above them and my heart skipped a beat. I thought I had seen a rocket heading toward us — but it was just a shooting star. We don’t run away from rockets here in Gaza, we run towards them and are always on the lookout. But it was still a shock.

We had returned to normalcy, but my brain hadn’t followed. I’m in shock and am struggling to process the grief and fear I was exposed to. I feel like I’m suffocating. My body is collapsing and my heart is racing out of my chest.

After that moment, I looked back up to the sky and realized that I would never be normal again. Both my childhood innocence and my future aspirations have been taken from me. It will never be the same.