Shells were coming from around Vuhlehirsk. It was horrible.
When I arrived and looked at the house, I got terrified. The entrance in the nine-story building was completely destroyed. The entire entrance is "gone".
Our house and the following house are located very close to each other. The second house was damaged practically the same way. The glass in all windows on the first floor shattered to pieces. People covered windows with plywood. We have no furniture. Everything was destroyed.
The water purification installation was damaged even more. Shells hit it. It was terrible, so dreadful. Shells banged here there and everywhere.
The war broke out in 2014. People stopped receiving child allowance. Shells flew over our house. I guess I should have left when I saw with my own eyes how this Grad launcher flew from the direction of the mine, from Karla Marksa Street.
There were followed by bright lights. It's like these big rockets with fire behind them. The sound from shells was so loud.
Then I saw the Grad response coming from Vuhlehirsk. God, I was pregnant at that time! I was walking with my husband, and he said "Come on." I asked, "Where should I go? I don't know. I was so confused. Shells flew in the direction of Horlivka. And then the response came from the other side. I was so afraid. I hid under the fence because I was scared, so scared.
I had been lived with my husband for six years. One day he got sick, temperature rose to 40-41 °C. I called an ambulance. He was admitted to an infectious disease hospital; his temperature did not break. He did not eat or drink anything. When he got better, he was discharged, and I went to pick him up. Two days later, he took to the bed completely — his legs were paralyzed, and his right arm failed completely . Then the district doctor came. He called an ambulance and delivered to hospital. Doctors called me shortly after that, "Your husband died an hour ago." I raised the alarm, and the children cried, "Mom, what happened?"
I dream that my children went to kindergarten and finish school here. So we began to adjust our lives. I wish they were happy.
When they grow up, I'll tell them that their dad passed away.. They don't understand it yet. They think that dad is in the hospital. They ask,: "Did you bring daddy some milk? When are we going to see dad?" I say, "They give Daddy injections. You can't go there. When he gets better, we'll go to see dad."
We must go on with our lives. We must strive for a better future, we must hold on. Don't forget that I have children. Children are my only hope.
When quoting a story, a reference to the source – the Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation – is mandatory, as follows:
The Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation https://civilvoicesmuseum.org/