A life unheard

I wake up every night drenched in sweat, my mouth wide open, desperate to scream but nothing comes out. My voice is trapped somewhere deep inside, suffocated by fear and despair. Even when I’m fully awake, I wonder if I’ll ever find it again. Will anyone ever hear me? Did my voice ever matter, or was I always destined to be silenced, as if I never belonged, as if my existence was a mistake?

The war didn’t just take things from me it ripped them from my hands, leaving me with nothing but ashes. It destroyed everything I held dear, everything I had ever dreamed of. There was once a home, a place filled with love and warmth. We imagined building a bigger one, where our dreams could take root and grow. But now? Now that dream has been buried beneath the rubble, and I stand here, lost among the ruins.

I should have been a medical student by now, on my way to becoming the doctor my shattered city so desperately needs. I dreamed of saving lives, of being that glimmer of hope in a place drowning in despair. But the occupation took even that from me. It destroyed my university, obliterated the hospitals, and along with them, it crushed my exams, my grades, my future everything I had sacrificed for, everything I had believed in.

I once clung to the belief in something greater: in law, in peace, in the basic humanity that binds us all together. I dreamed of a master’s degree, of studying abroad, of escaping this prison of war and despair. But now, those dreams seem laughable, hollow. The promises of justice, of law they mean nothing here. Even being accepted to study abroad feels like a cruel joke. What good is it if every road to freedom is blocked? The occupation keeps me trapped as if the only fate they’ve chosen for us is death.

My friends, my childhood companions the people who once made this world feel bearable are scattered like debris in the wind. We grew up on the same street, shared every moment together. We went to the same school, the same university. We were inseparable. But the war shattered that too. Now, we’re torn apart, each of us stranded in a different country, our bonds severed, our lives unrecognizable.

And my family , Allah, my family. They try, they really do. They’ve always supported me, but I’m not like them. I don’t have their strength, their ability to smile through the tears, to laugh in the face of agony. I can’t pretend everything will be okay, not anymore. They look at me with disappointment, their eyes filled with contempt for my weakness. And I can feel their anger, their frustration. It surrounds me, suffocates me, leaves me completely alone isolated to face myself, my shattered life, and the unbearable truth.

I had dared to believe my life was finally falling into place, that I was close to achieving the future I had envisioned for so long. But now, everything is gone. The war, the occupation they didn’t just take my dreams. They left me voiceless, without a future, without hope. All that’s left is a broken shell of the person I used to be, abandoned, forgotten silent…

There are seven lives that need help. Please, even if you can only donate a little, help save my family and me from this brutal war🇵🇸❤️🔽

https://gofund.me/6d3bce17