thedeansreport.com/: In the summer before I started 8th grade, there was a conflict in the Middle East. Tension was rising as people in the Gaza Strip were trying to save themselves from Israeli rocket attacks. They were aimed at Hamas, a Palestinian organization that had been firing missiles at Israel. I had heard a lot about the issue from my parents and from the news, and it troubled me that so many innocent lives were being lost and the two sides couldn’t resolve their differences with peace.
One day, I was forced to accompany my mother on a trip to a department store. My mom was visibly frustrated when I refused to step out of the car, so she and my sister left me to wait. A few minutes later, my mom came back and convinced me to accompany her since she was going to take a while, as usual.
I absolutely resented that store, but I had no choice. In the store, I walked around aimlessly. After requesting my mother about 10 times to leave, I had finally given up. Suddenly, I heard something familiar. Was it really my favorite band as background music in this store? Suppressing my inner fangirl, I continued to roam around the store, now slightly at ease.
After a few minutes, I walked up to my mom, hoping we could finally leave. Around the same time, I saw two guys approaching us. They were young, probably in their early 20’s. One of them was pointing his phone at us, probably making a video. As his companion laughed mockingly in the background, the guy with the cell phone started yelling out a string of curses at us in a very thick accent: