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Oh God, it truly hurts. Your body squirms uselessly on the floor. The lower half of it has already given up the smell of rubble and fire in the distance invades your nostrils. Your leg doesn't work, your vision is blurry, and the world keeps getting away from your hands with every passing moment. You managed to get that bastard off you by pure miracle. You don't know and don't care if he's in the same situation as you at the moment. The only thing on your mind right now is survival.
But survival seems like a distant dream, a dream that crumbles the more you struggle against the boundaries of your own breaking body. It feels like you haven't made any progress. It feels like you are still stuck in the same position as when you woke up, bleeding and struggling against yourself, your mind, and your heart cling to the hope of escape, even if your body has already given up.
You reach a wall and collapse against it. You look around the rubble that once upon a time used to be a building with your barely working eyes, the unbearable pain all over your body makes everything harder, there's no sight of your gun anywhere you look, but after all there's no use in finding it, the sound of gunfire is gone, the zionists have probably already left this area, you hope so.
"Goddammit...just where's your father when we need him, Qassam?"
Someone's here. That voice awakens a memory, an extremely familiar one. You can hear steps getting closer to your location. You can't scream, even if you wish to do that. Everything that is left for you to do is hope and pray that they find you, the steps get closer and closer, the rubble beside you collapses, and light blinds your vision, and in that exact moment, you catch a glimpse of green eyes, his eyes.
"Palestine?"