The sound of my heartbeat grew louder with every moment. From the window of my home, I watched as they used a device to locate crowded buildings and send the coordinates. Minutes later, missiles were fired at us. The noise of explosions and the smell of smoke filled the air. Maybe those missiles were launched from somewhere nearby, from a place that had seemed safe and calm just yesterday.

Inside the house, my sister was frantically gathering her belongings. With each passing moment, the anxiety and fear on her face became clearer. We tried to get ready quickly and escape this dangerous place, but time was racing forward while missiles kept striking closer and closer.

I stood at the doorway, shouting at the top of my lungs. My voice was drowned out by the explosions. Every second, I felt like our time was up, that we wouldn’t be able to escape this nightmare.

Outside, the streets were filled with smoke and rubble. People were running in panic, desperate to find a safe place. Suddenly, a massive blast echoed nearby and shook the house. I raised my hand to shield my face from the flying shards of glass. I didn’t know how much longer we could endure.