In our yard, a mine has recently exploded. I heard that something fell. I thought that was it. I shouted: "Kolya, Kolya!" And he was lying. I thought: well, that's it, I was left all alone. And then he said to me: "I am alive, alive."
They closed the broken windows with polystyrene foam, it will protect us from the cold. We must have time to do everything around the house before dusk, because after five o'clock in the evening everyone is already at home, we just sit and listen to where the shells fly and where they land.
Thus far, it is dangerous here at any time. Last year, my sister was killed, right on the day of the commemoration of her husband, on the 40th day after his death. The first explosion was in the garden - Kolya shouted to her: “Fall!” And then there was the second explosion – it has torn her into small fragments ... They looked for her head, but did not find it. She was buried without the head. Now we think: is it such a fate or her husband took her to himself. Nicholas was shell-shocked at the time, I lost my sight due to stress.
With fear we are waiting for the cold weather. There is no gas in this part of the city, electricity is often lost. This is not life; it is endless torment. We are counting every penny, it’s not enough for either medicine or food.
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/