"I saw such darkness and silence! Such animal horror!"

Olena Olkhovska worked as a nurse in the intensive care unit of a regional hospital. It was there that she hid with her husband, daughter, and two young grandchildren until April 30.

"On March 3, I woke up because of an explosion. A house was burning in the private sector. The second and third explosions followed. The children were screaming in fear and terror. When we were sitting in the vestibule, we felt: how could that be? We were in the vestibule for three hours. The house was shaking. Where to hide the children? We decided to go to the hospital, where the basements were warm. We put the children in the sister's closet.

In the first days of March, they came to the reception department, then people were taken to the operating theatres immediately. Food. We had some food with us - porridge, sugar. The main power supply was in the operating theatres, the equipment could not be switched off. There was only a kettle. Two boxes of biscuits, a box of chocolate sweets, a kilo of caramels, I gave them to the wounded. 

When a child dies of an illness, it is perceived in one way, but when they are killed, it is impossible to understand.

Iryna. She moved to the city center. Her two sons are in the military. She went outside to make a phone call. Because of the shelling, Iryna's legs were torn off. We transferred her to neurosurgery on the 2nd floor, to a room with her husband. The windows were smashed. We went there to feed her. We found a curtain to keep her warm. One night, Iryna was thirsty, and crawled on stumps, on the glass, to the toilet cistern to drink, but there was no water.

Tetiana. Injury to the abdominal cavity. The beginning of April. It was cold. She was discharged. She was going home. A week later, her husband came from her, handed me a bag with the things I was leaving the city with.

Svitlana. She cried a lot near the operating theatre. Her son was wounded and died, and she has three grandchildren, the youngest is 8 months old. No food, no documents. We shared the room. A dark corridor full of people was hard to find. She was shouting her name. They gave her soup. 

On March 11, the hospital was occupied. They knocked on our door. 10-15 people with assault rifles inspected the premises. 

We woke up to a car explosion. There was no glass. They rolled out the patients. We were left with one ward and a corridor. It was very cold.

On March 25, "humanitarian aid". The first time I received it, then I was not on the list: "You didn't apply for a job". 

A Phoenix card. My daughter received a card. Our friends saw us on the Internet. "They will come for you on April 30". 

5 hours at the checkpoint. Buriats. "Where is your father?" he asked the three-year-old child. And my daughter was told to shut her mouth," said Olena, a resident of Mariupol, a nurse.