Ahmad and Abdo scrambled out of bed, fighting for breath and coughing furiously. I splashed water on my face in an attempt to ease the burning. We staggered around the room, panting and retching. We heard urgent knocks on our door. “Help, please, they’re dying!” gasped our neighbor Umm Khaled. She was carrying her children, 4 and 6, one under each arm. Both were unconscious. Their faces were blue and yellow and they were foaming at the mouth.

Alm Dar ran downstairs to get his old Range Rover. Ahmad and Abu Abdo followed, carrying the children. I raced through the building — past blasted-out windows, crumbling walls and piles of rubble — looking for the injured. When I reached the street I froze: Dozens of men, women and children writhed on the ground. Others screamed out for doctors, wailing, praying, pleading for their beloved fallen to breathe again.

I screamed too. And then I noticed a little boy lying in the dirt. What I saw eclipsed every horror I had seen so far: burned and rotten corpses after massacres, bodies of women and children shredded by shelling, shrieks of my friends wounded in combat.

The boy’s face had turned grotesque shades of red, yellow and blue. His eyes were glassy. White froth oozed from his mouth. His throat grated as he struggled to breathe. I took off his shirt and tried to blow air into his mouth. I pressed against his chest and tried to pump the white poison from his lungs. Nothing helped.

After two or three minutes, Alm Dar pulled up in the Range Rover overflowing with injured women and children. He stared blankly at the boy, turned to his overflowing truck, turned back to me. I sat in the trunk with the boy. He was still struggling to breathe, that horrible grating sound still coming from his throat. We drove past more bodies and wailing survivors. I held him and cried.

When we pulled into the field hospital, a mile away, I lifted the boy out of the truck. He seemed heavier than before. I could barely keep my balance. I used all my strength to put him down. Then the world began to shimmer and turn gray, and the ground rose up to meet me.