MIAMI GARDENS, Fla. – Dima was 4 years old when she looked at the gold trim on her furniture and the big rooms in her family's Damascus home and thought, "I must be a princess."
"I asked my mom, 'Mom, am I a princess and you never told me? I mean, look at our house,'" Dima said, with a laugh. "And I'll never forget that, because that's what Syria was."
Dima, who asked that her last name not be used because of safety concerns, was born in Kansas, grew up in South Florida and visited the house in Damascus every summer with her family. When she was 17, after she graduated from Everglades High School, her family relocated to Syria.
The now 28-year-old pharmacist described life in Syria as easy, even luxurious. The people were friendly, the country was safe and life was happy.
Then the war began.
More than 250,000 people have died in Syria since the conflict began in 2011, and millions of others have been injured, according to the United Nations. Roughly 4.8 million refugees have been registered worldwide.
The latest news to come out of the country is that bombings have continued in eastern Aleppo despite a cease-fire that was called in order to allow people to flee the city.
"Some buildings have fallen due to the bombs," Dima said. "There are still people alive and nobody can go in there and save them, so this has just become their grave."
Syrians across the world are keeping in touch with family members who remain in the country, praying for their safety, and checking in on those who are refugees in surrounding areas.
The UN calls the situation in Syria the worst humanitarian crisis since World War II.
"People are being killed," Dima said.
When the conflict began, Dima and her family immediately noticed changes.
Checkpoints popped up and tensions began to run high in some areas.
"In 2011, when everything started, on our way to the university there was no cellphone coverage at all. You didn't want to go anywhere by yourself," Dima said.
By March 2012, the military raided the university where Dima's sister, Nour, was studying.
Nour and other students were held at gunpoint during the raid.
She escaped unharmed, but the incident was enough for the family to decide to come back to South Florida.
"After that happened, we had to leave," Dima said, her eyes filling with tears.
At the time, Dima and her family thought that the conflict would be short-lived and they'd go back to Syria in a few months.
"We're five years in and there's no light at the end of the tunnel," she said. "I can honestly say those six years when I was living there were some of the best days of my life."
Some of Dima's relatives have left Syria, and others, including her grandmother, have remained. They’ve adjusted to life in a war zone.
"They don't have electricity. They don’t have water. They get water maybe three or four hours a day and electricity is the same thing," Dima said. "They wake up earlier when they have water to get their laundry done. Otherwise, if they do laundry later, they won't have anything to drink."
They also make sure to say goodbye to everyone before they leave the house, just in case.
Dima keeps in touch with her family through daily text messages and phone calls. She prays for their well-being.
Sometimes the survivor's guilt kicks in.
"I can't watch the news because that should have been me," Dima said, pausing between tears. "That should have been me there. I am very lucky I was able to make it out, but at the same time there's not much I can do. You can only pray so much. You can only donate so much money. But nothing is changing."
Although it can be painful, Dima forces herself to watch and read news.
"Those people could have been me, or my family," she said. "I need to know what's going on and feel what they're feeling. I can't tell you how many times I cried myself to sleep because I read an article or saw something on the news. I know what these people are going through. I saw it firsthand. It could have been me."
Dima said knowing that there are people who have ignored the Syrian crisis hurts.
"It's like a slap in the face, to be honest," she said. "I would never tell anyone not to be happy or not to live their lives. But I think people need to feel a little bit of compassion and we all need to feel for each other and help each other."
She considers herself one of the lucky ones.
"Every morning I wake up and I am grateful that I am alive, and I'm happy. I have a house. I have a family. I am grateful my parents are here and I get to see them every day," Dima said. "I don't know what would have happened if we would have stayed. People were being detained for no reason. Would they have taken my father? Would they have taken my brothers? I feel so incredibly blessed that I am here, but I do feel guilty because there's not much I can do to help."
And the house that made Dima feel like a princess when she was a little girl -- it's gone.
"I'm not a princess anymore," she said.