I rarely visit my native apartment in Pisky, where I was born and grew up. The last time I was at the entrance to the house, I was met by an unexploded mine. During the bombardment, the pillow from my sofa was carried out into the entrance. The entrance to my apartment is always open now. Like brother's house, it turned into ruins.
Every time I come to this apartment, I take something with me as a piece of my past life.
Here, we took videotapes from our graduation celebration. I have to be honest — I left my heart and soul in Pisky. Where should we run? We've been everywhere. Even though our house is ruined, I want to go home.
Now we have only 12 residents left in the village. Two years ago, there were about 3000 people.
My daughters and I live a kilometer from the city, in the village of Pervomaiske. The shells burst as close here as they do in Pisky. My daughter is so worried that I had to give her sedatives.