«Зайвий раз на вулицю ми із сином боїмося виходити»

My son, at the age of 13, does not see nor speak. He got to a car accident as an infant. He survived, but every day he is by a hair's breadth from death.

I still cannot calmly walk past the place where this accident happened. It took place before my eyes 13 years ago. It was here that the healthy future of my son was crossed out. The driver went to double overtake, lost control and crashed into us. The child's skull was smashed by the side of the car. Danilo was only one month old, he received a severe brain injury. Doctors removed a third of the front left hemisphere. And now Danil does not speak, sees nothing. Seizures can begin at any time. He does not lose consciousness. A spasm clenches his entire body. And he endures this pain.

Danila's father and my husband left us. I do not work because I am constantly with my son. My parents receive a modest pension, there is not always enough money even for bread, and thousands of hryvnias are needed for treatment. We can not live without anticonvulsants medications. This is vitally important for my son, because if there is no pill and an attack begins, the child will simply die. 

We live in the Kuibyshevsky district of Donetsk. Our street is just two kilometers from the broken airport. As it gets dark, there is no more silence. There are broken houses around, they are smashed by fragments. Oneperson died on our street, two were injured. My godmother and her daughter lived here, they were wounded. At the moment, we do not really know, where they are.

For Danil, walks in the fresh air are useful, but once again we are afraid to go outside. In the yard we have a bench where I used to sit in the summer. One time, when I went out, I saw a long splinter of a shell, like a Christmas tree, was sticking out in the bench.