In the sit-in my job was protecting the barricades and nothing but the barricades. I had all my mind and heart focused that they won’t be removed under any circumstances. I have also done that on the 2nd of June, the day before the massacre happened. I went back home around 2 am. There were rumours that the camp would get dispersed, but people were talking about this the last weeks, so no one believed it anymore. I called my friends and checked if everyone is fine and the situation was safe around 2:30, then I went to sleep.
The next morning I woke up late. It was around 11pm when my sister called and told me about the disperse and the massacre. I opened twitter and the first thing I saw was a picture of my close friend Kesha, this couldn’t be true – I couldn’t believe it. I tried to write him, to call him. I asked around on Twitter and Facebook, I tried to call friends, but nobody picked up. The timeline was full with pictures of him and other martyrs, but I wanted to have proof. Finally someone posted a picture of his body as an answer to my post. I was in total shock and tried to reach my friends. All their names came up in my head and I thought that all would be dead. I saw videos of people getting shot, blood everywhere; so many dead bodies in front of the military headquarter. I saw all the tweets of people looking for their relatives. It was horrible, I couldn’t stay at home, I was so angry – I had to go out on the streets. I spent most of the time at the sit-in the last month. It felt really home there, much more than my room. I ran outside, the streets were all blocked, people were screaming callings for the martyrs or just sitting there, we didn’t know what to do. The Internet was already off at that moment.
I just wanted to do something, wanted to have my friends around me. It was actually planned for the next day when we would celebrate Eid (end of the fasting month Ramadan) the next day: To fly a million balloons for the martyrs who died before. So I went to a shop and bought a lot of balloons. I was in shock when I started to inflate balloons and called my friends again and again. I didn’t even want to talk, I just wanted to check who is dead and who is alive. I couldn’t eat, or sleep. I just kept inflating balloons and writing down the names of people I knew that were killed. I lost two close friends that day and so many people I have spent the last months with died. I didn’t leave my room for the next weeks, but the balloons kept me company.