Trapped in the Weight of One Cry

The night was eerily silent. A fragile tent trembled in the wind, its fabric ripped at the edges. I was breathing in fear, trying to bury my thoughts… until the sound came.

A single scream. But it was no ordinary scream. It seemed to rise from the very heart of the earth, from the depths of pain, from a place no one should have to bear.

I leapt from my spot, my body shaking uncontrollably, my heart pounding as if it would burst from my chest. Barefoot, I ran out of the tent, not knowing where… only running toward the scream.

People spilled from their tents, faces frozen, eyes wide with shock. Then I saw her… the mother.

She was crouched on the ground, hitting her chest, pulling her hair, screaming:

*"My only son… he’s been killed! My son is gone!"*

Her voice shook the air like an earthquake. Her cries pierced everything, stopping the world around us. Her sisters collapsed beside her, screaming with her, clinging as if they could hold her from falling into an endless abyss.

Her son had been missing for two days. He had gone to fetch water and food from the aid distribution center… and never returned. That night, his photo appeared online, listed among the “martyrs.”

I was there. I saw the moment she broke, saw how a person could turn into a heap of grief, how the body screams when words fail. I felt as if I broke with her, as if I had lost her son too, as if I could not bear the weight.

And in that moment, questions flooded my mind like a storm:

*Who gave them the right to take her only son? How can a heart survive such a blow? How will she live the rest of her life with this emptiness? How will she see the world now—through eyes clouded with grief and betrayal? Who will compensate her for this loss, this wound that will never heal? Will she ever believe this truly happened… and somehow continue?*

The night, the scream, the faces, the silence that followed… everything felt larger than life. It was like living a heavy dream that never ended—it was reality itself.

Since that moment, I have not been the same. Every time I close my eyes, I return there: to the scream, to the collapse, to the helplessness. As if my heart remains trapped in that tent, in that night, in that moment.

Imagine yourself there… Could you bear it? Or would you collapse in silence?