Israeli youth: 'I don't want to die today'

Liat Margalit, left, with friends at a mall in Jerusalem.

JERUSALEM (CNN) -- Liat Margalit and her friends spend most of their free time at a Jerusalem mall, and not just so they can shop.

Tight security at the mall -- metal detectors, guards checking every car and searching bags -- can make it seem a safer alternative to what's outside.

"This is what we do for fun. The mall is pretty safe, and as you can see, the building is closed. ... Without putting your life at risk, this is what we do," Margalit says.

If they're not at the mall, they say, they mostly stay at home, behind locked doors, away from the threat of terrorist attacks. But safety comes with a price.

"Usual things that teen-agers do, we don't get to do. We don't get to celebrate our prom night, we don't get to celebrate our finals. We don't get to do anything really. It's like living in a cage," Margalit says.

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Occasionally they still go downtown, they say, but they're always on guard.

In the early days of the Intifada, Margalit and her friends say they'd always feel safe heading out the day after a suicide bombing, because they figured there wouldn't be another attack for days, even weeks.

But that logic no longer applies, they say, because the terrorists now strike with such frequency.

"When we do go out, we are very afraid, and if we go to a restaurant, for example, we always think about, 'OK, do we want to sit next to the front or do we want to sit in the back?' Because a suicide bomber might come in, and I don't want to die today, because I am only 18," Margalit says.

Margalit says she feels torn when her parents urge her to stay home, warning it's too dangerous to go out.

"What should I do?" she asks. "If I miss my youth, what else do I have in life? I don't want to feel like my youth has been taken away from me."

'It hurts'

Efrat Ravid goes to a local hospital three times a week for occupational and physical therapy.

Efrat Ravid, who's turning 21, knows firsthand just how dangerous it can be to go out. She survived the March 9 bombing at Jerusalem's Cafe Moment, where a suicide bomber killed 11 people and injured dozens of others, including her.

The bones in Ravid's right leg were smashed, a major artery was severed and she suffered head wounds. She has had 10 operations, seven on her leg.

Now she goes to a local hospital three times a week for occupational and physical therapy.

"It hurts. Believe me, it hurts," she says.

Once a week there's trauma counseling, and every month she visits her doctor -- quite different from her old routine.

"I went out a lot. I went to coffee shops, and pubs and discos, like the situation in Israel was OK," she says.

She figured it could never happen to her.

"That was the reason why I got into this situation -- a cup of coffee," she says. "So I am not going to go on the same mistake again. I don't want the slightest chance that something can hurt me again."

Next month, Ravid will find out how the bones in her leg have healed -- whether she'll ever be able to walk without crutches. But right now, she's more worried about her upcoming 21st birthday, usually time for a big celebration.

"I can't do anything," she says. "Probably if I were healthy, I would go to a disco, drink a lot. ... But I can't do it. The only thing I can do is go to my friend's house and sit all the time."

Ravid says she used to be very independent.

"It's like they took my life," she says. "It's very hard."