I don’t know where to start. There was an explosion. It was rocket shelling as I understood. I was running and didn’t know where I was going. I was completely disoriented. Just running for my life.
Someone else was running too. Someone else couldn’t run. For someone else, it was too late [to run].
I could hear people screaming everywhere, in fear, in hell, in pain of loss.
I did not understand what was happening, but I will try to describe it now. It was the darkest day of my life.
I ran, and I fell. I ran again, hoping to hide.
At one point, I saw my neighbor, and he was blown apart right in front of me. His leg was ripped off and I was hooked over it and fell down. I was lying in what was left of his body.
Internal organs, ripped-off parts of other people, blood, guts, blood, and more blood. They were everywhere. Teeth, feet, hands, eyes, a hellish mess of human bodies. I vomited, my head felt dizzy, and my legs felt like cotton candy. I lay there completely unable to move. I was reciting a prayer to myself.
I couldn’t run. I lost consciousness. I remember the hospital later, but my memory is still in pieces. I was concussed.
Peace and liberation, through the eyes of Rashists, look like this”.