VOICES columnist Amy Idem, originally from Lancashire, lives with her husband and three children. She writes about her cultural and life experiences here, and on her blog: https://memyselfandidil.wordpress.com/

MY husband’s sister-in-law opened the door and we stumbled in desperate to reach safety.

She ushered us through to the smallest room in the house, which was the safest place to be in this sort of situation. Surrounded by walls on all sides and the only window was out of view from the road outside of our house.

We sat down and tried to comfort the children who were crying and confused, not understanding what had just happened and why we were hiding.

Just minutes after we had arrived, there was another knock on the door, another of my husband’s brother’s wives had come downstairs with six children in tow.

Their house being on the fourth floor meant they weren’t safe at home. The bullets were skimming their balconies.

By this time, there were around 18 of us crammed into the room bracing ourselves for when we heard the next shots. We didn’t have long to wait, they were coming thick and fast.

It had only just turned 7pm and my mind wandered to my husband: himself, his brother and his nephew hadn’t come home. Nobody had predicted that the fighting would start this early in the evening.

They had been shutting the shop earlier as the weeks had gone by but nobody was prepared for this. I glanced at the phone in my hand, lack of credit and no internet due to the power cut meant I had no way of contacting him.

As if he had read my mind somehow, my phone started to ring. I answered the phone and immediately asked him how and where he was.

He informed me he was staying at someone’s house in town and they wouldn’t make it home until the morning. He told me to stay where I was, and as soon as we had internet to look for some flights to leave İdil.

As he rang off, the seriousness of the situation began to sink in, I could barely believe that this was my life, crouching on the floor in a room crammed with people, listening for the short, sharp, explosive noise of guns being fired.

We stayed that way for around 2 hours, the electric eventually came back and the fighting seemed to have ceased. I typed out a message as soon as I could informing my Mum of what had happened and asking her for help.

She rang me straight away and I relived the last few hours all over again explaining to her on the phone, she urged us to pack our bags and leave as soon as we could, before a curfew was imposed on İdil.

As things had quietened outside, slowly everyone began to return to their houses. Barring me and my friend, I was too shaken up to spend the night alone and my friend was in the same situation.

It was around 10pm and we realised that nobody had eaten. We hastily prepared some food in between 20 minute long power cuts and ate what we could manage to.

One by one the children fell asleep, exhausted by the evenings events. We found it considerably more difficult and stayed awake until 5am, talking about our predictions in the run up to the election and drinking tea.

In any other circumstances, it would have been such a lovely evening but we jumped at every sound and none of us dared look out of the windows. In the distance, we could still hear shots being fired.

I slept fitfully and for all of two hours, I woke up at 7am and looked outside. It looked like any other morning in İdil, it was sunny, quiet and calm.

To an outsider, it looked the same but for us living there, everything had changed. I felt an overwhelming sadness as I drank in the sight of the distant mountains and fields full of poppies.

I felt sick to my core knowing that this was one of the last mornings I would spend in İdil. I knew then that while physically we would be moving away from here, a piece of my heart would always be in this small town in South East Turkey.

I am now safely in Didim with my family, I would like to thank all those who have wished us well or offered us help, those who have commented on my blogs, sent me messages or spoken to me in person. I

It means so much to us all and made a difficult time in our lives that bit more bearable.