The repeated bombing of civilians includes many brides. And now I am one of them, terrified that I will join them before I can fulfill my love.

In May 2021, Israeli fighter pilots killed Shaima Abu Al-Auf, when she was about to be married. In May 2023, Dania Adas, another bride, was killed. Although I was not engaged when Shaima was killed, I mourned for her. By the time Dania was killed, I too was engaged. I received the news of her death while Israeli bombs were exploding around me. The news hit me like a thunderbolt.  If I survive, my wedding is planned for this coming July. Dania’s wedding date was also supposed to be in July. We both had reserved a hall for the wedding ceremony. We both bought new clothes, colorful dresses and home decorations, and had rented a beautiful white wedding gown for the ceremony. I wondered if Dania and her fiancé had agreed yet on the candy and music? They were likely dreaming about their future together. It’s unbearable to imagine this loss. I always follow the news to make sure no one I know was harmed. I did not know Dania, but I felt the pain of her death as if she was family. The Israeli army destroyed her dreams. These thoughts rage in my mind, almost killing me with fear.

I fell in love with my fiancé after our engagement. His sisters, my close friends, wanted me to marry their brother, but until he proposed on January 14, I didn’t know him. He asked my family’s permission to marry me and  I told my family I accepted his proposal. In Gaza, this is often the way it goes. When a marriage contract is created between a man and a woman, she becomes his legal wife and he becomes her fiancé. Under Islamic law, a husband’s commitmnt doesn’t come until after the wedding ceremony, which is when they are allowed to live together.

Now I’m afraid of being the next dead bride. I think about this day and night. I’m afraid of losing my fiancé and I’m afraid of causing pain if I am killed. I called Dania’s fiancé to offer my condolences. I wanted to know her story. But her fiancé could not stop crying. “Why did someone kill Dania? What did I do that my life should be taken from me?”  As I hung up, he was still crying on the phone.

Fear, panic and madness threaten to overwhelm me. I send constant messages to my fiancé: “I promise we will always be together.  Don’t go anywhere. Text me all the time so I will know you are ok.” I knew he couldn’t answer my texts because his phone was at home, but still, I texted: “The party can take place just like you want. All I ask is that you stay with me. Do not let my joy die.” My text messages were full of love. My fiancé was not used to this because I am shy by nature.

I kept busy by spending time with my family, which consists of 10 people. My married sister, who is nine months pregnant, and her husband came to live with us because they were afraid of the bombs that fell near their house.

Everyone in Gaza has nightmares that an Israeli shell will destroy everything they love. Most of our conversations are about the constant bombing. One evening, my sister’s husband read us the news from one of the websites about all the children who have beeen killed. I listened without interrupting him until he started to talk about Dania Adas. My mind then returned to this murdered bride.

My mother tried to change the subject by saying, “Come on girls, let’s prepare Nada’s bridal clothes. Every new bride needs and deserves new clothes.” But just then a missile fell in our neighborhood. My sister shouted, “Open the windows! May God protect us.” Everyone knew that opening windows protects them from getting hit by shatterd glass.

I finally got a signal on my cell phone! My fiancé was connected to the internet. As soon as he answered, I screamed, “I’ve been so worried.” My fiancé responded, “Are you ok? Is the bombing close to you?” We agreed that neither of us would die before the other. But I know that Dania and her fiancé must have agreed on this as well.

My bones ache because of the severity of my anxiety. Will I survive the next attack?

When Dania died, she was a bride, like I am now. Immediately following her death, people called to offer condolences. Now she is never mentioned. Will I become the next, along with the 33 Palestinians killed in the most recent attack? My 16-year-old brother said, “Thanks to Allah, the losses were not worse,” But I thought of 33 bereaved mothers, 33 orphans, 33 empty beds, 33 empty dining chairs, and 33 lost stories. Will I someday be forgotten, with my killing unpunished? Israel violates international law without accountability. I don’t know if the killings of innocent civilians were intentional. But I do know that killing joy in Gaza is ongoing and intentional.