Chernysheva Iryna, 15 years old
Winner of the 2024 essay contest, 1st place
Municipal institution “Kharkiv Lyceum No. 162 of the Kharkiv City Council”
Teacher who inspired to write an assay - Krasilnik Nataliia Yevheniivna
«1000 days of war. My way»
Confusion. If someone asks what word I associate that Thursday with, I will answer with confidence: confusion. The first barely audible explosions somewhere in the region, the first news I read in telegram channels, the first evening in the basement of my house, damp and very cold.
However, the most vivid memory will remain the one of a kitchen, where my mother finished her yogurt (strawberry, I think) and looked so sadly out the window.
At first I only felt, and then finally understood, that something was wrong. Something specific, which never ended in anything good.
Mother did not go to work. Father returned home later, terrified. My friend held my hand tightly, squeezing it until my fingertips tingled.
Emptiness. The second word that I will mention without further ado, if someone decides to continue this topic. But I still don’t dare to say her name out loud.
The most mysterious lady I’ve ever met in my life. Everyone knew her, but no one could describe her with 100% accuracy.
The emptiness didn’t come right away. It waited for the moment when I would fully experience what war was.
And only then did she get under my skin to settle somewhere in my chest for a long time – where the soul should be.
Bang-bang
When I spend so much time reading books that it seems my eyes don’t feel tired anymore.
Bang-bang.
When I try to take up embroidery, but the crosses come out nervous.
Bang-bang.
When the music can’t drown out the explosions in my neighbourhood.
Bang-bang.
Is that how my heart beats or is it her barely holding back laughter?
Anxiety. The third word that will come to mind a little later, if someone still dares to start a conversation with me. I’m not even talking about those sirens that “lulled” me to sleep at night and woke me up, forcing me to run quickly into the hallway.
I’m talking about that lady who has been following me for so long that I’ve stopped hearing her heavy footsteps.
Daily communication with loved ones, reports of winged monsters taking off, tremors in my fingers from every explosion – and the venerable Anxiety is right here. It embraces my body, making it difficult to breathe. And I can’t move.
«What if it’s their home?»
«What if… What if it’s our home?!»
Fear could be the fourth word I would name in a possible discussion. But it never strayed far from its beautiful wife Anxiety, so I perceive them as one whole. When I hugged my pink teddy bear, who (I was sure) also heard Fear’s whispers, just didn’t show it. When I curled up in the corner of my bed and pulled the blanket over my head.
When I heard my parents talking about moving abroad with little savings for a rainy day and the shadow of Responsibility on their tired shoulders. When my friends didn’t answer my messages, I closed my eyes so as not to see Fear.
«How are you?»
«We’re fine. It was very loud.»
Hate. Hate. Hate.
She was always there, always with me through these 1000 days. I saw her everywhere I looked. Lady Hate existed next to everyone I passed.
They said on the news that about sixteen people were injured, three of them children. I only had enough strength to whisper softly: “How I hate you all.” But there is a word that has power over each of the feelings I mentioned above.
It was the one that wiped the wet tracks on my cheeks, covered my ears during explosions, and whispered words dear to my heart.
It always stood behind my right shoulder, ready to extend a hand at any moment, smiling gently. And suddenly it seemed as if I could do anything in the world.
It told me: “The end is just the beginning of something new.”
And I believed that life would continue, It was the one that made me help, create, defend, and most importantly, live.
Do you want to know this name?
I’ll tell you. Her name is Hope.
Fragile, but despite everything, the strongest lady is Hope.