Mother and son survive this horror tormented by a common feeling. Do not meet again without a look. Air strikes. Deafening bombings, state of dread, projectiles launched over our heads. Little boy looking for a way out, bombings diminish, we leave the shelters. An unbearable fear consumes us houses, buildings, vegetation no longer exist. Mother and son survive this horror tormented by a common feeling. Do not meet again without a look. Air strikes.