It is been 5 years, 60 months, 257 weeks, 1800 days, almost 43230 hours since the deadly chemical attack by the Syrian government on Eastern Ghouta. An aggregate of almost 1400 mostly civilians have been killed in this brutal attack.

I still remember very well that catastrophic day in all its horrific details. In fact, not the whole day, because it was quicker than that, only a few hours were enough to rob almost 1400 humans' life.

I woke up this morning to find a notification from Facebook reminding me what I shared on this day in some previous year on this blue world.

When I went to check those memories, I found what I expected in the beginning (friends I made that day), but after scrolling down a bit, I saw a post that caused me a severe headache: it was one of the worst memories in my life, that odious day full of death and blood.

When I saw the pictures, for a moment, I relived those moments again with the same amount of dread and sorrow, the feeling of inability, grief, woe, and suffocation. I remembered how I cried like a baby amid the hell of that day.