* Disclaimer : Based on a true story, some dramatization.
I wrote this very short dramatized story by accident, really. I was trying to write an introduction to go with a newspaper article I read about a rocket that hit a factory, wounding several people and causing untold damage to 'ground zero'. I wanted to describe the sudden terror I felt recently on hearing a sudden, loud, unidentified noise, wanted to explain how that noise spooked me, how the experience changed the way I spent the rest of my day. I wanted to write about an experience many people would recognise and be able to relate to and link that experience to how people being bombarded by rockets almost daily might feel. I wanted to connect 'Mr and Mrs Average Person' to life in Sderot where rockets may hit at any moment, where life can change from 'normal life' to 'living in a war zone' in the blink of an eye.
Yet no matter how hard I might try, it would be a futile effort. Because there is no way to compare my neighbour's drilling into concrete walls to redecorate his bathroom to a rocket being sent against your country, your city, your people, your parents and siblings, the world as you know it. There is no way to compare that momentary panic I felt to the knowledge that a rocket may be fired at you at any moment, that you may have only mere seconds to escape before the world as you know it is blown to smithereens, before people you know and love are in real and imminent danger.
The article I read came from the Jewish Press. "Gazan rocket hits Sderot factory, firefighters battling blaze." An article about a rocket from Gaza, Palestine that hit a paint factory in Sderot, Israel, injuring several people and causing a LOT of damage including a huge fire. Containers of paint stored inside the factory exploded and he factory itself was burnt to the ground. Watch the videos to see the extent of the damage.
Recently, my neighbours decided to remodel their bathroom. No big deal, apart from the noise which he warned us about early on. I thanked my neighbour for letting us know about the coming noise and promptly forgot all about it. Until the drilling started two days ago. I'd just made myself a large mug of tea in the kitchen, intending to relax on the couch with a book, nurse my cold and soothe my sore throat. I'd put a lot of honey in my tea which is why I made sure not to over-fill the cup - I didn't want to spill that sticky sweetness on the floor after all.
But enough about the tea - where was I? Oh right - And then the drilling started. I'll set the scene: Imagine me carrying my mug of tea from the kitchen to the lounge, feeling a bit frail and under the weather but bravely soldiering on. Suddenly, I hear this ear-splitting noise from behind me, after another second it feels like the noise is coming at me from all sides. I drop the hot honey-laced tea on the rug, first cover my head with my hands in panic, then stick my fingers in my ears while I run for the dining room table under which I proceed to hide. In my flight to the dining room I've realised that there was no madman with a chainsaw standing right behind me. I slowly realise that there really is no-one else in the house with me, that my panic is all for nothing, that it's only the neighbour remodelling his bathroom. He'd warned us that the noise would be loud. I hadn't realised until this moment just how loud that noise would be.
Returning to the hall, I find that my tea has spilled all over the rug and the floor underneath. Also, I've just walked through the sticky mess, meaning half the hallway is now covered in lukewarm honey-water that smells faintly of tea and summer evenings spent outside. As I hop around on one foot, attempting to take my shoes off without doing further damage to the hallway, the drilling starts again. Instinct kicks in half a second before my mind realised that it's only the neighbour. I'm cowering on the floor, my hands covering my ears, my knees squishing in the wet rug when sanity returns. Now my skirt is ruined too, one sock now almost completely wet, one shoe valiantly working to keep the other dry.
I slowly get up using my hands and knees to push myself to a standing position. Upon realising the extent of the mess I've just made, I sigh and walk back to the kitchen where I proceed to take off my remaining shoe and both socks. I hike my skirt up so it's away from the sticky floor and give the cleaning cupboard an exasperated look before pulling the doors open and glaring at my supplies. "Now don't tell me I'm crazy for thinking there was a madman with a chainsaw lurking in the shadows... The human mind reacts in mysterious ways..."
I wrote this very short dramatized story by accident, really. I was trying to write an introduction to go with a newspaper article I read about a rocket that hit a factory, wounding several people and causing untold damage to 'ground zero'. I wanted to describe the sudden terror I felt recently on hearing a sudden, loud, unidentified noise, wanted to explain how that noise spooked me, how the experience changed the way I spent the rest of my day. I wanted to write about an experience many people would recognise and be able to relate to and link that experience to how people being bombarded by rockets almost daily might feel. I wanted to connect 'Mr and Mrs Average Person' to life in Sderot where rockets may hit at any moment, where life can change from 'normal life' to 'living in a war zone' in the blink of an eye.
Yet no matter how hard I might try, it would be a futile effort. Because there is no way to compare my neighbour's drilling into concrete walls to redecorate his bathroom to a rocket being sent against your country, your city, your people, your parents and siblings, the world as you know it. There is no way to compare that momentary panic I felt to the knowledge that a rocket may be fired at you at any moment, that you may have only mere seconds to escape before the world as you know it is blown to smithereens, before people you know and love are in real and imminent danger.
The article I read came from the Jewish Press. "Gazan rocket hits Sderot factory, firefighters battling blaze." An article about a rocket from Gaza, Palestine that hit a paint factory in Sderot, Israel, injuring several people and causing a LOT of damage including a huge fire. Containers of paint stored inside the factory exploded and he factory itself was burnt to the ground. Watch the videos to see the extent of the damage.
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| Sderot... Looks like a lovely place! Source: Times of Israel |
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| Sderot.. Not such a lovely place now... Source : Jewish Press |