Newsflash⚡ directly copies the world’s top headlines and imagines the stories behind them.
This story is a depiction of war.
Read the original article (Lucy Williamson - BBC News):
Hind Rajab, 6, found dead in Gaza days after phone calls for help - BBC News
The first sound is the sound of a telephone ringing.
The last thing you hear is the sound of continuous gunfire.
That’s it.
The beginning. And then the end.
These are the sounds that bookmark my days - no, hours. Hard to think in days anymore - just sounds, just cycles.
The on switch. The off switch.
The on switch.
The off switch.
And then beginning again.
A telephone rings.
*
“h—llo, plea—,”
The only thing that registers is the voice.
“Where are you?”
“W—…”
The lines often break.
“—we, I… I, I—”
“I can hear you.” There is a loud cry at the end of the line.
I am talking to a little girl.
*
“It’s okay, I can hear you. Where are you?”
“we—” … “I…, I—”
“What is your name?”
“Nour —mli”
There is enough time to triangulate her location. Lines on a screen - she is on a road, at the corner of an open junction.
“Are you in a vehicle?”
“—y-s.”
“Is anybody with you?”
“Y-” … “no, n-, n— , — … —more.”
There is another cry, the sound of a beating drum, and the call ends.
Thirty-seven seconds, on average. That is how long we get.
*
Nour Al-Ramli. Six years old. One surviving relative - her mother, who is waiting at the Al Mawasi, with a small number of her personal belongings, including a notebook, in which the girl has been practicing her handwriting.
Now I am the one dialing.
“Green-light. They have given us the go-ahead for the rescue. Send full ambulance - vehicle license K1-342-PN. Yusuf, Ahmed.”
“Well, yes, with whatever they’ve got.”
“One hour - one hour, and only on a black Mitsubishi, at—”
I quote the co-ordinates and put the receiver down.
The telephone rings again.
*
“—llo?”
A much better line this time.
“Yes, Nour, I can hear you.”
“You have to help me,” the voice says. “I don’t want to stay on the phone. They can hear me.”
“Are you with anyone, Nour?”
“T— — … —ll dead.”
“Are you alone in the vehicle?”
“— have to help me, please. I am hiding behind my — my brother, my br—. Is —. is someone coming to hel— m— . Is .someone coming to help me?”
“An ambulance is coming to you right now. Stay where you are, Nour, we are coming to get you.”
“Did you — —u speak to my mother?”
“We will take you directly to your mother, Nour. Stay where you are, okay? I need you to stay inside the vehicle.”
“But … b—, —y are all —d.”
“I need you to stay inside of the vehicle Nour, we are coming to get you, okay? Stay inside of the vehicle and we will be with you very soon. Do you understand?”
“Y—.”
“Just stay where you are. Stay hidden, and stay very quiet. We are on our way.”
“Can you please tell her th—”
Another loud bang, and the line disconnects.
*
“This is Yusuf. We can see the vehicle, we’re approaching now. Jes—. There’s a tank at the end of the road.”
“They’ve given us the all-clear, they’ve given us the all-clear. Get the girl, and get out. Quickly.”
“We’re approaching now.”
Then Ahmad’s voice: “We’re stopping the car.”
“Oh m— —. I can see the girl. Confirmed, the subject is inside the vehicle.”
Then Yusuf: “We’re stepping out of the car now.”
There is the shutting of car doors, and the sound of whirring straps. “We have the equipment.”
“We are approaching the vehicle.” The radio falls silent.
And then, the sounds of Nour’s voice. A deathly, single cry.
Ahmed: “We have the subject.”
“Brother!”
Yusuf: “Be quiet, be quiet.”
“Brother! Brother! Brother!”
Ahmed: “We’re going to get you - oh, sh—. Be quiet, Nour, be quiet.”
Yusuf: “We have clearance.”
Ahmed: “Yusuf, the tan—, the ta—”
And then, another set of loud voices. Not Nour’s, not Ahmed’s, and not Yusuf’s. Other men.
Yusuf: “We have clearance!”
Ahmed: “Yusuf—”
Yusuf: “Go, go, g—”
And then, the final sound, the beating of the mechanical drum. The roar of a sudden explosion. The grunt of a man. The scraping of gravel.
Loud, continuous gunfire, and the line disconnects.
*
Another hour has passed.
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The views expressed in this publication do not reflect the views of the author. The stories themselves are based on imagined events. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is fictitious and should not be taken as representative.
Absolutely brilliant. Love the portrayal of a bad connection.
One has to wonder how many more children shall have to die before the people come together and SAY NO MORE! How many more conflicts are on going!