It was late one night. Raining. Cold. I was five. My parents said everything was going to be fine. Parent lie. Thunder shook the house. The fire was fading. I was scared. My parents left me. It was all so cold. The lights flickered. Darkness. I screamed. No sound came out. I tried to move but my feet were stuck. My body froze. I couldn’t move. Everything was dark. Cold. Scary. I was alone. But I don’t feel that way. I closed my eyes. Counting. Just counting until the storm stops. Until all this is over. Waiting. Counting. In silence. Darkness.

I heard other voices. Screams. I couldn’t breath. The darkness. The voices. It was to loud. It hurt. I can’t breath. Let be over. Let it end. I scream. I join the voices. I scream. I open my eyes. I was on the floor. My parents were there. They said I fell Aleppo. Biotin don’t believe them. It was too real. I can still hear the screams. Echoing though my mind. I don’t trust my parents anymore. I don’t trust anyone. I screamed. I was another voice. Another victim.