It’s impossible to sum up what we went through there without Ziv, and until he’s home, nothing is over.
But we are here by a miracle.
It started with missiles; it was stressful, but I kept reassuring myself that the odds of one hitting me specifically were slim, and everything would be okay. We tried to drive until everything was blocked; everyone wanted to escape. So we waited for things to calm down and lay low to avoid getting hurt, but then people started running and shouting about terrorists.
We fled like lambs to the slaughter, running towards the fields, with you just pulling me by the hand.
You could hear the bullets whizzing by and people just falling. The terrorists, chasing us, surrounded us from all directions on motorcycles, trying to kill us. When I told you I was exhausted, you said we had no choice but to keep running.
We tried to hitchhike, but you said it was safest on foot.
We didn’t stop running until you, Ziv, and I separated and the two of us hid in bushes. Gunshots passed over our heads; I had never known what a bullet’s whistle sounded like. The terrorists passed by us, shooting wherever they could, and we did everything not to move, to stay silent.
Suddenly, you decided to take a selfie. I was about to get angry, not understanding why now, but then thought that at least if we died, our family would have a memento that we loved each other until the very last moment.
You protected me with your body, and I thought about all the other couples with different outcomes than ours.
The horrors there are incomprehensible, and we can’t begin to grasp what we experienced. We just keep praying that Ziv will return home to us.