It is not a horror movie night, yet the film begins to roll; for them, after all, every second spent breathing—feeling their limbs intact, missing not a single "little piece"—is a victory. In other words, a normal day is a horror movie.
Without opening credits or introductions, the terrifying reel begins to play: the whimpers of a child rise from the ruins. The sound emerges—trembling yet hopeful—from a small face wedged between concrete blocks. It drifts past the rubble, tracing the length of a tiny, dust-covered arm—the only visible trace of what was once a child.
With extreme care, the child navigates past adults also buried within the seven levels of concrete flooring; panic sets in within the confined space, until a gap between the beams offers a chance to stay alive and press on toward help. There are bodies that were silenced instantly; from them emanates only a heavy, daunting calm—a stillness difficult to breach.
"And where are my parents? If they aren't breathing, it’s better not to find them." Giving up is not an option. All around lie many who were buried alive—some of them acquaintances from the frantic struggle to find shelter amidst a perpetual war that haunts them generation after generation.
That voice meets other voices... weeping, pleas, and wailing. They resound in unison amidst death and destruction. And, in the midst of that nauseating night, they escape the collapse. Someone hears them and—far from being horrified—rejoices. Suddenly, it no longer feels like a horror movie, yet the plot is only just beginning.
The backstory is all too familiar worldwide: war, genocide, drones, missiles... the Zionist army bombs a residential building, shaking it to its foundations. There are no shelters available in the Gaza Strip. About ten families of displaced Palestinians have arrived at the building, seeking refuge from the horrors of war. Sites struck by attacks are ticking time bombs. The building collapses.
It is yet another incident in the conflict making the news: it occurred west of Gaza City, leaving entire families missing. Civil Defense teams are searching for survivors trapped beneath the ruins and are recovering victims. There is a critical shortage of equipment.
Although a ceasefire was negotiated in October 2025, more than 1,300 Palestinians have died amidst a truce that has not been respected.
According to the Palestinian Civil Defense, the number of bodies and human remains recovered across the coastal enclave exceeds 630 between November of last year and the current month. However, the number of people missing beneath the rubble exceeds 8,000.
There is no safe place in Gaza; this is a known fact. Consequently, the question men, women, the elderly, and children ask themselves is no longer "Where will night find us?" but rather, "Where will death find us?" The harrowing film of their lives plays on a constant loop.
