People all around me froze. Some started crying, some screamed out in French, and others just stood there, stunned, their phones shaking in their hands as they tried to film what felt completely impossible. Then the chaos really began. The streets erupted — people running in every direction, sirens blaring from every corner, and the sound of glass shattering as windows were smashed in the distance.

Right in front of me, overturned cars were already on fire. Burning debris littered the streets, and the smell of smoke and gasoline was so strong it stung my eyes and throat. Protesters clashed with riot police just meters away, throwing rocks and bottles as officers tried to push them back with shields and batons. I could hear chants and screams mixing together with the endless echo of sirens, creating this haunting soundtrack to what felt like the end of the city as we know it.

I kept filming, even though my hands were shaking so much the footage is all over the place. At one point, I zoomed in and my camera caught flames bursting out near the top of the tower — it was surreal, almost like watching a scene from a disaster movie, but I was right there, in the middle of it. Ash and embers started drifting down like dark snow, and people covered their faces with jackets and scarves as they tried to escape the smoke.

The scariest part? Nobody knew if it was going to stop. Was the tower going to collapse? Was the fire going to spread across Paris? Every single person on the street had the same look in their eyes: fear, disbelief, and this unspoken question — what happens next?

This wasn’t just Paris losing a landmark. It felt like watching history unravel in real time. The Eiffel Tower, the very heart of France, was burning before my eyes, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sounds, the smells, and the sheer terror of being there in that moment.