The War Here In Gaza Has Been Going On For Too Long, The Siege Has Intensified, The Bombing Has Intensified,

An Error (Part 2)

The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft orange hue through the windows of the Saiki household as Kusuo sat frozen in the middle of his room.

His mind raced, his body tense, his powers still in turmoil from the chaotic sneeze that had displaced his father to some unknown world. [Dad... Where did you go?] He clenched his fists, frustration boiling in his chest.

Saiki sat in silence, fighting the growing sense of panic. His mind couldn't focus -- his power felt like it was slipping from his control, and the more he thought about his father's disappearance, the more impossible it seemed to fix.

He had to fix his limiters. It was his only chance of getting control back. He had barely been able to notice that the clips were deflating, let alone make sure they were inflated to the correct level before the disaster struck.

[This is bad... This is really bad.]

In the back of his mind, he was very aware of the fact that his mother was downstairs, oblivious to the mess that had unfolded. The house was unusually quiet now, the hum of the evening settling in. Kusuo was in no mood to face her, not when he knew how much trouble he'd gotten himself into. His mother was sweet and caring, but even her patience had limits.

The sound of soft footsteps came from the hallway below, and Kusuo's heart skipped a beat. He was still panicking, and he didn't need his mother finding out. Not yet. Not when everything was so... Broken.

The door to his room creaked open.

"Sweetheart? Kusuo? I've been calling you for the past few minutes, are you feeling alright?" His mother's voice echoed through the door, gentle and kind, as always.

He couldn't face her. Not like this. He didn't even know how to explain what had happened, let alone the possibility that he might never see his father again. It was too much, even for him.

She stepped inside, peering over the threshold of the door. Her eyes softened when she saw him sitting on the floor, his expression clouded. "What happened?" She asked, worried as she walked over. Her tone was calm, but concern lingered beneath it. "Kusuo, you're acting strange. Is something wrong?"

Kusuo didn't look at her. He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to admit the truth. So instead, he just shook his head, giving her the most neutral response he could muster.

[I'm fine. Just... Tired.]

His mother's purple eyes narrowed slightly, not fully convinced. "You didn't answer me when I called. Have you seen your father? He's been gone for a while now, and he's not answering his phone."

Kusuo's heart stopped again. The room felt colder all of a sudden, his thoughts spinning. His mom was starting to notice... That was the last thing he needed. But he couldn't just tell her the truth. The very idea of explaining what happened -- how he might have sent his father to a completely different dimension -- was impossible. His powers were something his mom didn't fully understand, and if she found out...

If she found out, she'd never let him out of her sight again.

[I... I haven't seen him either.] He hoped his voice sounded calm enough, but even as he said the words, the nagging fear in his chest grew.

His mother pursed her lips, clearly unsure of whether to believe him. "Well, I’ve been trying to call him, and he’s not answering. I’m going to call the police."

Kusuo's eyes behind his green tinted glasses widened, and the last thing he needed was his mom calling the cops. That would just complicate everything. He couldn't let her do that. He had to stop her, but how? She was already on edge, and the thought of his dad being missing could easily drive her to panic.

[Mom, don't.] His tone of words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn't care. His mind was racing. He needed to keep her from escalating this. He couldn't afford to have anyone looking for his dad -- especially not the police. Who knew what they'd do? He didn't even know where his dad was, let alone how to find him.

His mother looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern. "What do you mean, 'don't'? Kusuo, your father is missing! This is serious."

[I know, but...] He hesitated for a moment, trying to hold onto some sort of composure. [It's not like that. He's probably just out, you know? He's always doing strange things, and sometimes he just forgets to tell us where he's going.]

The words felt hollow even as they left his mind. He couldn't even pretend to believe it himself. His father was gone.

His mother didn't seem entirely convinced, but the concern in her face was still there, and she was getting closer to breaking down. Kusuo's stomach churned with guilt as he sucked in a breath.

She sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Alright. I won't call the police just yet, but if he doesn't show up soon..." She trailed off, unsure, but then she nodded. "I'll give him another hour. Just... Please, let me know if you hear anything. I know you've been through a lot, but we need to work together on this."

Kusuo’s heart pounded in his chest. She was only trying to help, but all he could think about was how much worse everything would get if anyone else found out.

[Yeah, okay. I'll let you know,] he nodded, though his mind was far from the promise. He didn't exactly know how he could fix this. How could he tell her that he was the one who made his father disappear? He couldn't. She'll panic even more.

As his mother left the room, sending a final look over her shoulder, Kusuo was left alone again, his body still rigid as ice, his thoughts were all consumed by the disaster he had caused. He wasn't even sure where to begin. He wasn't familiar with this kind of situation. He'll have to solve this on his own.

He had to fix it, but the more he thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed.

[What if I can't fix it?]

💬 Just a Small Update, and a Big Thank You

Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,

When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, we’ve now reached $12,837—a milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.

From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.

💔 A Journey of Loss, but Also of Strength

As many of you know, I’ve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. It’s in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.

But through your help, I’ve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.

“21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighbor’s House Was Destroyed” A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.

“22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruins” This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.

🌿 What Life Looks Like for Us Now

Despite everything, we’re still here. Still surviving. Still hoping.

But things have only gotten harder.

The war has returned, more brutal than before—and for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.

We’re trapped.

🏚 We live with the fear of tomorrow, every single day. Airstrikes, drones, and the uncertainty of what might happen next. 👨‍👩‍👧 Our family is forever changed—we haven’t just lost people; we’ve lost pieces of ourselves. 📉 Basic needs go unmet—even clean water feels like a luxury now. Medicines, if they exist at all, are unreachable.

And yet…

Your support reminds us that we’re not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That we’re not completely alone in this.

Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us: You’re walking this road with us. And that gives us the strength to keep going.

💖 What You Can Do

If you’ve already donated—thank you beyond words. If you can share our story again, it could reach someone who can help.

Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.

Chuffed

Donate to Help Mosab saving who's left of his family

My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my

✨ Why It All Matters

This isn’t just about reaching a fundraising goal. It’s about surviving war with dignity. It’s about believing in tomorrow. It’s about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.

Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity. You’ve helped me find my voice—and I will use it to keep hope alive.

🙏 From the Heart: A Quiet Apology

There’s something I need to say—something that’s been on my heart for some time.

When I first began sharing our story, I didn’t know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.

If that happened, I am truly sorry.

Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fear—fear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.

I’m learning as I go. I’ve slowed down. I’m more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.

If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came from—and I hope you can forgive me.

Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.

Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 )

With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and family ♥️

Hello everyone.🥹

Did you know that here in Gaza, between 600 and 500 people die every day, including children, women, and men, and no one sees me or knows about us? Did you know that the crossings are closed and there is no food or drink? Did you know that the doctor told me that my fetus is in danger and that I must eat healthy food and take injections until my pregnancy is complete?

Did you know that this is my first fetus after trying to get pregnant for more than three years?

Please, do you know what it means to lose a child?

Please, I do not want to lose my child.

Here is the donation link.

Your donation will save my child's life. Please donate.🥹🥹

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Inas to succeed & overcome high risk pregnancy in Gaza, organized by Amanda Marsh

Hello, my name is Amanda Marsh and I have set this campaign u… Amanda Marsh needs your support for Help Inas to succeed & overcome high risk

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #425 )✅️🇵🇸🇵🇸

Google Docs

GazaVetters

🕊️ Please Take a Moment to Read Nadin’s Story

My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.

I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.

My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.

I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.

This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.

If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.

Chuffed

Help Nadin Keep Her Life Stitched Together

My name is Nadin I’m a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza who are trying to hold on — to hope, to our families, to any piece

I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.

Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.

Echoes in the Rain ♥

❝ Soft raindrops taps on the pristine glass A rhythm pulled from moments past A whisper from each drop, vague, but clear A voice I thought I'd thought I'd never hear from again.

The streets shimmer bright with mirrored skies, Reflecting tears from weary eyes. A fleeting laugh, an obscured face, Lost within the storm's embrace

The earthy scent, so damp and true, Brings the memories I once thought I outgrew Yet here they are, in pewter streams, Awake again in quiet, little dreams.

The rain will come to an end soon, as storms must do, And leave behind a world anew. But in its soft echoes, I find, Fragments of a wandering mind. ❞

ARIELL

The Greatest Psychic of 21st Century !! ♡

"Do you actually think it's cool that a grown adult with no job is only focused on imprisonment?"

Saiki K ♡