I Work On The Syrian Border, And I've Stopped Crying

Sabreen Shalabi

 'The day begins with a call from a family member.

 "She is very sick and the siege has left no medicine in the town."

 Later on, you receive a message from your sister, who still remains in an area under siege by the regime.

 "Just pray for us."

 The day continues with a trip to a Syrian camp, where they literally have nothing. A women begins to bleed profusely, and trapped within the borders of the camp she cannot leave.

 You watch as the four year old, walks across with no shoes to help his mother carry the blanket, and just think to yourself "these children are no longer children."

 In an area with no communication, a mother gives you a small piece of paper with a phone number on it.

 "Please let my family know I'm alive."

 You receive a phone call from your friend.

 They're crying, they just lost someone.

 You listen to them trying to calm them down.

 The call ends.

 You look to the clock it's 12 a.m.

 You open Facebook to read the news, only to hear of another 100 dying under airstrikes.

 You scroll down, pictures of people starving from areas under siege.

 You decide to close the page, enough news for the day.

 You close your eyes and realize.

 You didn't let a single tear drop.'