We used to be just a bunch of normal teens making plans for the weekend. We sat in cafes, went to the movies and often bought drinks to secretly drink them in the park. Despite our different nationalities and beliefs, we had much in common and didn’t differ from any other people our age. We girls often went to each other’s place talking about how cute the new guy was, we stalked our crushes on Facebook and the school and often called one another when things weren’t working out well. Sometimes, our parents grounded us. Sometimes we had sleep overs or went to clubs. We hated school, copied the homeworks from the nerds and sometimes convinced each other to skip class to go out and smoke. We weren’t any different, from people in the states or Europe. We may have had different beliefs and traditions but after all, we wanted nothing but be happy. We knew, that happiness can be achieved through hard work, but sometimes it just hits you randomly like a cool breeze at night. But who would have thought that the opposite- unhappiness could strike that fast too? Newspapers, the internet, the news, just everything was full of reports about Libya and Egypt. Countries you probably just heard of, during history class were now at war. People died and suffered. Despite the great distance, in Damascus, people started to change too. We didn’t know what was going on. But on the weekend, the movie theater was suddenly not crowded anymore. Our cigarettes were expensive, a cab driver asked for 200 Syrian pounds instead of a 100. Security men were all over the city, checking our purses or papers. The atmosphere was tense; the usually crowded areas were as empty as a desert. Cafés, clothing stores, even schools closed down everything was changing for the worse and we were right in the middle of it. Not much later, newspapers, the internet, the news just everything was reporting about Syria. And the friends that you once called close no longer asked what your plan for the weekend is, but who you’re supporting. “I support peace,” was the safest answer I could give to avoid getting into trouble. No one was at ease, our parents were worried and asked us not to go out, our favorite clubs closed down, and our favorite café was suddenly nothing but a hole filled with debris. Friends left to safer places, school was no longer an option. Staying at home, was now our life. “Did you hear that?” I’d often say when the sound of the artillery made its way through the air. “Did you feel that?” We’d ask when the vibration of an explosion shook our bodies. “Did you see that?” Was to be asked when another cloud of black smoke emerged from the ground. Yes, we had so many questions, but no one knew the answers. A warm night in 2013’s May, as usual I couldn’t sleep. Sitting at my desk, with the back to my opened window I smoked a cigarette, everything was quiet, everything was calm until my room lit up. It seemed like somebody was shining a flashlight through my window, spinning around, I saw a yellow cloud rising the up the air. It was a view I can’t describe; you’d see it in movies, you’d see it in the news. Seeing it, with your own eyes, is like seeing it with no knowledge of violence. The earth shakes, stronger than ever before, the green plastic chairs on our balcony were thrown around like a leaf in the wind, Shiva my cat ran around in agony, and I… could just stare. Taking a few steps back, you can hear the sound coming. A ‘boom’ louder than any firework, the sound of destruction louder than any wrecking ball hitting the walls of a building. Followed by the impact’s wave, blowing your mind away. Another Boom and a third one, then it was over. Had I really feared for my life? I can’t tell, mom worried I’d go into shock; I couldn’t quit shaking, my heart was beating faster than ever before, my pupils were wide and not one sound escaped my mouth. What I saw, was characterizing the brutal things I had heard of. Finally, I saw what war is. What happened to the innocent teenagers we used to be? I’d no longer complain about school, I’d love to have math classes. I’d no longer complain about my neighbors playing their music too loud, I’d love to enjoy electricity twenty-four hours a day. Never again, will I complain about the canteen food, seeing the hungry children on the street opened my eyes. I’ve been taught what the human is capable of, but also what gratitude is. Nothing should be taken for granted, not the chance to visit school, not the fact that you can go and come as you please, not even the fact that you’re breathing. Everything you have and are, can be taken away from you within a split of a second and you may not even notice it. My split of a second was when the world around me changed, when the happy smiles turned into frowns and the talk about boys became “is your place safe?” How could everything happen so fast? It’s been almost four years, but feels like a lifetime ago, when we were nothing but a bunch of normal teens.