It was 6 am, and I was already exhausted after staying up all night at my shift at the bracelet station at the Nova Festival in the south of Israel on the morning of October 7th. I waited for my friend Maya’s shift to end so we could enjoy the rest of the party together in a tented area where some people from the party were still hanging out. We were only there for 5 minutes before the explosions started. We all looked at the sky, not understanding what was happening.
Two minutes later they turned off the music and we heard people shouting, “Red Siren! Red Siren!” As someone who grew up in Ashdod and suffered through a lot of wars and sirens, I was indifferent to the situation at first. I even laughed about how you could see who had experienced sirens before, and who hadn’t. (No matter how many wars and sirens you might see in your life, you must never be indifferent to the situation. Always take them seriously, it could save your life!)
My friends quickly started packing things up and heading to their vehicles. At first I thought I would go back with my friends towards Gan Yavne to continue hanging out, but my sister Rita and my brother-in-law Guy were also at the party, and had second thoughts. Like me, they also didn’t take the threat seriously, and we decided to wait in the party area until the heavy traffic outside had cleared.
"Two paramedics who were running with a stretcher, carrying a girl who had been shot and was bleeding all over, shouted at us to get away"
While we were putting our things in the car, an angel named Dudi ran over to us, warning us that shots were being fired at the vehicles that were driving away, and that we should stay in the party area until the situation calmed down. For a while, we just stayed there listening for sounds and not knowing what to do, until someone shouted that we should go to the police booth for protection.
When we arrived at the booth, it was chaos. Girls were screaming and crying on the floor, officers were running from place to place, two paramedics who were running with a stretcher, carrying a girl who had been shot and was bleeding all over, shouted at us to get away. At that moment, I said to my sister, “Let's get out of here, I can't stay in a place that makes me so anxious, let’s go somewhere else.”
We went into a ticket booth with barred, square windows, and settled down into some chairs. Just when we had caught our breaths, we heard shots getting closer and immediately hid under the tables that were attached to the wall. Luckily, there was a lock on the door that saved our lives, twice!
We locked the door, and someone tried to open it. They saw that it was locked and went to the window. I saw an Israeli I recognized named Gal. We let him in and locked it again. After a few minutes, someone else tried to open the door. Two more Israelis, named Tomer and Michael, joined us in our hiding place. We heard more gunshots and shelling, and stopped talking.
After sitting quietly for some time, we started hearing voices coming from outside. We all strained to hear, and someone in our group said, "It's Hebrew, everything is good.” But the voices got louder, and we heard that they were speaking in Arabic. We looked at each other and knew they were there.
We held our breaths while listening to the terrorists, a meter away from us, shooting and shelling and shouting, “Jew, there’s a Jew, kill him!” Suddenly a bullet hit one of the bars of the windows. We were scared and didn't have time to react before they began spraying the entire booth with bullets. All of us were on the floor, folding and twisting, trying to avoid being shot in a closed space with no escape.
“All of us were on the floor, folding and twisting, trying to avoid being shot in a closed space with no escape.”
I just remember that I screamed "Mom!!!" After that, I didn’t see anything other than dust and heard nothing except ringing in my ears. After they stopped shooting at us, no one moved. We stayed huddled and folded, not saying a word. It was only after a few minutes that I saw that Gal had been shot in the knee and had shrapnel in his head. I couldn’t stop the bleeding from his leg, but I was able to stop the bleeding from his head.
It was something like an hour later that I raised my head from the shock and saw Guy, my brother-in-law, had been shot in the stomach. We couldn’t respond, help, get up, or cry, because just then we heard the terrorists moving around us again. They tried to open the door twice, with force and brutality, but they saw it was closed and left. They went away! Thank you for the miracle, thank you. They didn't confirm that we were dead, they just saw that the door was locked and left.
“We couldn’t respond, help, get up, or cry, because just then we heard the terrorists moving around us again.”
We sat in that booth in perfect silence. We didn't get up, we didn’t move, not even a little bit. I had to pee so much that my whole body started to hurt, but at first I was too embarrassed to pee on myself. After another hour of holding it in, I couldn't take it anymore and just peed on myself. I lay there in a cold puddle of my own pee, shivering while hugging Gal. Thank you, Gal. Thank you for being there. Thank you for helping to keep me strong. We didn't know each other, but the look in your eyes helped me stay sane.
We sat in that booth for almost six hours. There were phases of silence, without gunshots and without the sounds of terrorists, and we fell asleep. Three and a half hours later, and no one had found us yet. I woke up to my sister screaming, "Security forces!" I opened my eyes and saw a terrorist standing at the window. We crumpled down, expecting to be shot, but instead he shouted to us, "Money, money, money, now!". We all immediately tossed our phones and wallets at him. He took everything, smiled, and left.
“I opened my eyes and saw a terrorist standing at the window.”
We didn’t know if he would expose us to his comrades or not. He was either going to tell them we were here and they would come back and kill us, or he would take pity on us and let us survive. No matter what we thought about it, our lives were now in the hands of that Arab.
All we could think to do was chant the Shema Yisrael [Jewish prayer said in moments of great anxiety]. We sat together in our nightmare, and accepted that we might die, but still held onto a small hope that we would be saved. Two more hours went by without any contact from the outside world. Two hours where we thought every shot was aimed at us. Please, just no more spraying like before, please no.
“We sat together in our nightmare, and accepted that we might die, but still held onto a small hope that we would be saved.”
And then, two words that sent chills through my body. "Hands up!" Thank God! Hebrew! And suddenly more and more Hebrew. And right then, when we thought we were going to be saved, a violent shootout started. Shots getting closer. 50 meters, 20 meters, 10 meters.
We raised our heads and saw our army. We stood up with our hands raised and shouted, "We are Israelis, Israelis!" and cried uncontrollably. Thank you for watching over us with all of your miracles. We were so close to death, so many times, and so many people weren’t as lucky as we were.
I looked at my sister while we had been there, and all I thought was, “God, my mom is going to lose two daughters now, so please watch over us.” My two heroes: My brother-in-law who, with a bullet in his stomach, got on top of my sister and protected her with his body. And Gal, who behaved heroically and thought only of ways to survive. At one point, he took some of the blood he had lost and smeared himself to appear dead. I am so proud of you, and I am so relieved that we got out alive.
My body and head haven’t fully processed this yet, but while I was there, I said to myself, "How come we didn't run as fast as we could? How could we have been so indifferent?" without knowing what was happening outside, the terror that had happened outside. My heart aches for those who were not saved, and my soul is with the innocent hostages.
Eden S.