It’s a strange feeling to know that death is lurking everywhere while you fight to stay alive. I had no news about my father, who was sheltering elsewhere in Gaza, or my friends. Each of us is facing death. We are surrounded by it. I knew I had to tell my uncle about my mom, and I did.
I write these lines while we are still in the house with nowhere to go. The bombing continues. They keep discussing ceasefire proposals at the cost of our blood. I may not be able to finish my story this time, and I hope anyone who reads my words and feels the bitter reality we live in will wish for my mother, my people, and me to complete our stories with the end of this war. I don’t know when I’ll be able to send more lines again.
Continue reading at https://www.thenation.com/article/world/lujayn-gaza-mother-report/