We knew we needed to go to the protected room, however we weren’t frightened as a result of it occurred on a regular basis. We’re type of used to being bombed each few months. However this time, we understood actually quick that it’s one thing else. We obtained within the shelter room and now we have 4 youngsters. After that, we began getting messages from folks crying to assist. There have been three folks in my home, one younger lady and two males. They began to attempt to open the door deal with. There isn’t any lock on the door on the protected room. It’s purported to shelter us from bombs, not folks. And my husband held the deal with and me and the 4 youngsters and the canine had been hiding in a nook. They had been in my home consuming. They watched TV. They watched a present on Netflix. They knew we had been inside, and for 12 hours, we sat and waited for them to get in and kill us all. The youngsters had been so quiet. They had been so afraid. They had been whispering, “Mother, I’m afraid.” “Mother, I’m hungry.” “Mother, what are the unhealthy guys doing right here? Why do they need to kill us?” And I informed my husband, “When you can’t maintain on anymore,” I informed him, “Take your weapon and shoot us within the head. Make it fast.” They gave us seven minutes to pack our stuff. They took us to security, took us out of the house. We took a shirt and put it on my youngsters’ faces as a result of I didn’t know. I didn’t need them to see our bodies mendacity, and the kibbutz burned, and folks they know mendacity within the streets. I dwell in Nir Ozmy entire life and it was my worst nightmare that terrorist folks will go within the kibbutz. However in my worst nightmares, I by no means imagined it may be so unhealthy, and so merciless, and so humiliating. They wrote Arab notes on the partitions, and it was like, “We personal the place, not you.” My youngsters preserve telling me, “Ma, the place is Safta? How can we go away the kibbutz with out Safta?” And, “The place’s Jhoni, and Tamari, and Omer?” And I have to carry on telling them that I don’t know, regardless that I do know. I knew my dad is useless. I knew he died. I used to be speaking to him on WhatsApp, and when he didn’t reply, he informed me his final phrases are going to be, “Give a hug to the children. We’re nice. It’s going to be OK. It’s going to be over quickly.”
