CLAUDE

Day One: February 24, 2022, Thursday

The morning was completely ordinary. Nothing foretold disaster. A hard wake-up for work. Well, and then it began! Then the women were let go from work. My coworker became hysterical.

I walk home calmly, see a huge line at the ATMs. Panic is starting. But not for me. People are sweeping products off the store shelves. Armfuls of sausage, water, bags full of bread. Nonsense, I think. I laugh. A dumb panic. We already lived through this in 2014. Now I am ashamed of those words and thoughts.

A call from the foreman. We don't come to work until further notice. “Katya, take care of yourself,” – his last words on the phone. It made me uneasy…

Could we not have understood even then?

Day Two: February 25, 2022, Friday

My daughter and I decide to go to the store. Public transport is free across the city. Maybe we can manage to withdraw some cash? It's impossible to pay with a card in our stores. At ATB the shelves are half empty. Canned goods and dairy products are left. At “Shchyryi Kum” the prices have been jacked up. I'm starting to lose it. But I buy a few things.

Vitalik is at work on the first shift, on duty.

Day Three: February 26, Saturday

The shots of guns can be heard more and more often.

Vitalik has fallen ill. Temperature 38.4. I try to talk him out of going to the night shift. But he goes. He comes back in five minutes. The plant is on hot mothballing. Management said no one is to leave. What is happening I still do not understand. For now I am sure that this will all end any moment.

Day Four: February 27, Sunday

We're anxious. About food and money. Although we do have supplies at home. Vitalik and I decide to do a reconnaissance on foot toward Gate 8. The trolley isn't running. The stores on Levchenko are open. “Shchedraya Lavka” is closed. And further on it's the same. The ATMs are empty. On Pokryshkina nothing is working except one pharmacy and a bakery. There are lines there. A few people scurry along the avenue, mostly looking for cash at ATMs. So we went back with nothing.

On the way to meet up, a tank tore past. The roar was insane. We stopped in at “Polyus,” we had some cash left, bought crackers with raisins and waffles.

The siren started. I have never been so frightened. Vitalik walks at a calm pace, I run! My heart is on fire – Nadya is at home. When I made it to the apartment, she wasn't there. She was in the basement together with the animals.

Day Five: February 28, Monday

Vitalik's birthday. Shooting from the very morning. We wished him well! We had fried potatoes for breakfast.

Every day gets worse. But we have electricity and water. Other districts don't. Mama has had no electricity since Thursday. The neighbors are helping. She charges her phone at their place. We talk on the phone, everything is normal with her.

Today we sleep “between contractions.” When I went into the maternity hospital to give birth to Nadya, the doctor, a sleepy heavyset woman, said: “Dreams between contractions.” I don't even remember her face, but the phrase became a winged one. So we sleep between explosions.

Day Six: March 1, Tuesday

Spring! The restaurant for March 8 is booked :))) And nothing foretold disaster. Is there really so little room for all of us on this earth?!?! Why is it like this? Thank you, beast, for one thing: you united us like never before!

Honestly, I barely remember this day until evening. The bombing practically didn't stop. The neighbors came. At three in the morning I went up to the apartment – I had no strength left. I want to sleep in a bed. The three of us sleep in Nadya's room. With us: the dog and three cats. The apartment is freezing, the heating was turned off on the first day.

Day Seven: March 2, Wednesday

The shelling didn't stop all day. We're tired beyond endurance. Vitalik is breaking down completely. Nadya (my daughter) is holding up – good girl. Gradually we're moving into the bargaining stage – about time. The denial stage was probably very prolonged. It feels as if today is not the seventh day of this hell, but the thousandth! And so it is for everyone. 19:47 – Vitalik began to smile. That makes me happy. He is so weak. I brought out “The Master and Margarita.” Aleksei and I read it in parts. My throat went dry…

The siren started. I have never been so frightened. Vitalik walks at a calm pace, I run. My heart is on fire. Nadya (my daughter) is at home. When I ran up to the apartment, she wasn't there. Together with the animals she was in the basement.

Day Eight: March 3, 2022, Thursday

Yesterday was still “paradise.” Every day is worse and worse compared to the previous one. Frightening! Very! It's impossible to fit into my head what is happening.

There's no connection. Vodafone still flickers through a little, but only outdoors. And going out there is terrifying. I managed to get a call through only with my sister. A miracle. In the morning we talked normally, the second time it cut off. My sister is sobbing. In their city (Nikopol) it's so far okay, only the sirens howl. There's been no connection with mama for the second day. We don't know who is alive. We don't know anything… The city is fully cut off.

Today they cut off the electricity and water. There is still gas. My daughter and I wanted to go to the market anyway, to buy some long-storage food, cigarettes. Vitalik is with the lighter in the kitchen, they aren't planning to go with us. That makes me furious. God! How did we end up not getting far from home! Olya shouts from the entryway: “Don't go anywhere!” A whistle overhead! A roar! Something fell somewhere nearby. An explosion. Scary. We run home. My heart is pounding. Very scary! We all sit in the basement together. Neighbors Olya and Vadik, Lyoshka and us. Yura comes by, a neighbor from the street. A strange one who loves to roam the streets. Uncle Sasha from the second floor doesn't come down. Olya from the second floor is probably at her mother's in a private house. We haven't seen her once. Occasionally we go up to the apartment to heat water for tea or to use the toilet.

The most frightening thing is that we are in complete incomprehension of what is happening. With every day, with every explosion, all the organs inside my body shake, as if in turbulence, more and more.

I am photographing our cats for history. I hope – no, I believe – that all of this will end, and I'll make a collage about it.

We taped little icons to the door.

Today there is snow. Falling from the sky in such enormous white flakes. Slowly, slowly. Fairytale-like.

By the entryway they've put out buckets for snow. There will be water for an emergency.

I'll try once more to reach my sister.

Day Nine: March 4, 2022, Friday

The stores on Levchenko have been looted. Apparently the lowest layers of society smashed the windows, and then it took off… People raked out all the food (well, that's all right), and everything that came to hand. Looted: the grocery stores, “Everything from Five,” “Photo Studio,” the fishing supply store, “Dnepro M” and others. The guys went to look. My only request was – don't take anything except what is truly necessary. But all the same they brought back all kinds of junk. There's no need to sink lower than the lowest!

Olya and I went to the courtyard where the bomb shelter is. We managed to get a carton of cigarettes. The police brought a whole crate.

We have food. Only what to do when the freezer thaws?

There is contact with my sister. It is just a miracle! All information goes through her. Of all the regions, only Dnipropetrovsk, Poltava and the Western regions are untouched. Friends from Moscow have lost their minds. They write her such letters on FB that you simply can't believe healthy people can think that way. She is in touch with our sister Natasha from the Zaporizhia region, with Aunt Nadya the neighbor, who by sheer chance happened to be in Kyiv at her son's at this moment. She managed to move to Ivano-Frankivsk. With Ruslan, our friend, who also by coincidence left for his honeymoon to Lviv just before all this. And with Galya, Vitalik's sister, who is also somewhere in the West, while her parents are in Kyiv. Nothing is known about mama. It's frightening to go, although I keep talking myself into making this step. It's frightening because of Nadya (my daughter)…

Veronika came through the gunfire. My little hero!!! I burst into tears, and she – well done! Doesn't lose heart, same cheerful self as always. Nika brought us a bag of groceries. We went to see her off. For the first time I stepped beyond my own courtyard.

Day Ten: March 5, 2022, Saturday

In the morning I got through to my sister right away. She is like a ray of light. For me and for many people.

We were standing in the yard with the neighbors and suddenly an enormous miracle! I see Dima and Natasha! I have never been so glad to see them! They brought groceries. They said mama is all right. A weight lifted… I call my sister, no luck.

Nika came again. They are getting ready to leave by the green corridor. But later we learn that nothing came of it for them.

Dima and Natasha are leaving, through them I pass a note to mama with information about Nadya-sister, about the situation and about her relatives in Enerhodar. They promised to come in a couple of days. But in this hellish cauldron we live one day at a time – no, probably just an instant.

There are flashes of anger. But I never did get out of the bargaining stage.

Day Eleven: March 6, 2022, Sunday

The night was very restless. The shooting did not stop. In the morning a real Armageddon began. All the infrastructure of the city is destroyed, residential buildings are destroyed, people have died… Who will answer for all this?

Veronika (my niece) and her mother are trying to leave again.

There's no connection at all.

On the streets they are handing out food – humanitarian aid. All meat that there is nowhere to store.

15:15. Having stepped past the anger stage, I'm imperceptibly passing into the stage of despair and acceptance of the situation… That is the most frightening thing.

My dear little sister, inside me there is also a hole – probably much bigger than yours! I can only send you these words in my thoughts, my dear one.

Every night, lying down, I mentally list all the people I know, sincerely believing that all of them will stay alive.

In the evening they cut off the gas.

No connection all day.

The last two blessings have been taken away…

We try to fall asleep in the basement, but I can't take it for long, I go up to the apartment, lie down in boots and two jackets. My pockets are constantly stuffed: flashlight, phone, cigarettes, matches and other necessities, always. At night I managed to sleep for a while. My whole body aches.

Day Twelve: March 7, 2022, Sunday

They have been bombing since four in the morning, but far away. I get up, try to catch a signal. My sister has probably gone mad, the only ray of light has gone out. I wash my face, brush my teeth every other day, trying that way to save water. Of bathing and washing my hair I can't even dream. And there was a time when we didn't value ordinary things…

Olya and I decide to go to Veronika's, we want to give her the phone numbers of our relatives. With God's help they will manage to break out of the city today.

There's a light snow outside… The time for the field kitchen has come. We boil borshch on firewood, heat water, cook chicken breast on a grill. And all of this cooking happens between explosions, something whistles overhead, we run to the basement at the speed of sound. Explosion! Very close!

Aunt Valya died, a neighbor, she had been paralyzed a few days before the war. It is terrible to look at her husband.

We set up a wooden board by the entryway. We will write in chalk what day it is – the date, the day of the week, the day since the beginning of the war. People's phones have run out of charge, we will start getting lost…

The men carried Aunt Valya into the shed. Another woman died not far from us.

At night they shoot from our side. The morning is quiet. At about 10 a.m. the “incomings” begin. These conclusions are made empirically.

To tell the truth, I am no longer sure that the stages of perceiving information are accurate. There are far more of them! Dear great minds, you will have to rewrite the psychology textbooks! One thing I want to say to you: the onset of the despair stage we will not allow!!! We are children of this Earth. We love our Land. We will live on it and for its good! Despite everything. And let this life: without water, electricity, gas, dirty and tired, be our customary life, only don't shoot! Our wonderful talented children deserve none of this! For their sake we are ready for anything: to tear to pieces, to beat to death with sticks, to gnaw, to go hand to hand with bare hands and to shout to the whole planet:

We are people! We will live!

Yesterday Veronika read T. G. Shevchenko's poem “Meni trynadtsiatyi mynalo” (“I was turning thirteen”)… My little hero…

In the evening we sit in the basement.

Tomorrow is March 8th. Olya's crocuses have bloomed.

Day Thirteen: March 8, 2022, Tuesday

The night was quiet. Or maybe we've already gotten used to sounds that don't belong to our normal life… Today for breakfast: fried potatoes and fish cooked over the campfire.

The men are congratulating us on the holiday. Vitalik kissed and hugged me as he never did in our whole life together. He even presented a gift: a bottle of “Marengo” and waffles for Nadyusha. Aleksei brought chocolate drops for cakes. Yura congratulated us with a cake that he most likely “swiped” from a looted store. But, unfortunately, it turned out to be spoiled. And we so wanted to share it among all the neighbor-women! But let that be our biggest disappointment. On the other hand, I had a bottle of champagne tucked away!

Snow fell overnight. Beauty! Snowdrops in the snow! A real women's day! Now the dripping melt, we collect water.

About Veronika (my niece) nothing is known. Did they leave? But we unanimously decided that if she didn't come in the evening, they most likely managed to break through. God keep you!

Artur came by, Uncle Sasha's nephew. He's in the settlement, saw mama yesterday. This is very good news. Thank you to all the Heroes who move through the city and bring news. God keep you!

On the landings between the 1st and 2nd floors there's a stash of firewood. We had to bring it all inside, because people in the area are starting to dismantle the wooden roofs.

Joy in the most primitive things, ones no one ever could have thought of. Everything material has receded to the last plane.

The most wonderful gift for us women was a bath day. The men drained water from the heating system, heated it in buckets over the grill, and we, miracle of miracles, washed ourselves in the icy bathrooms! Clean hair, fragrant with shampoo, was more beautiful than all the loveliest flowers in the world!

Day Fourteen: March 9, 2022, Wednesday

Somewhere high, high up in the sky there is, probably, one last little drop that is getting ready to fall on my little head… I don't know where to find the strength to hold it back, not to allow myself to fall apart and despair. With all my might I try to hold on! It's frightening that I am ceasing to think about mama, my sister and other people, because there is no time to think about them and the fact of not knowing anything about them (I've lost my train of thought) doesn't change anything.

A shell fell somewhere very close by. According to Uncle Vitya Goncharov, it hit the surgical ward and a residential building. How much more destruction and death is needed?

Today is papa's birthday. How are they over there? The last information we had was when there was still connection. Even then he was walking to work under bullets.

The scale of the destruction is not known even within the city. In my, in our, Hero City!

From early morning everyone is irritated. Here everyone has become an invalid for the rest of their life. The only question is how much of it is left – of this life?

My dear diary, every day I beg that the page on which I am writing no longer be turned, for just one reason – there is nothing left to write.

12:50. An air strike is expected around one o'clock. The neighbor from the first entryway reported. We wait… God grant it's not true.

16:20. A shell hit our building. The roof of the building was damaged, the kitchen, the Volkovs' apartment and one of our windows. Uncle Sasha is alive. By dark we sorted through the rubble. There was suspicion of fire. The firefighters checked. Everything is in order.

We're holding on! We spend the night in the basement.

20:00. Until now I have not been able to find words to describe the HELL that has seeped vilely into our life!!! Even in the worst nightmare it was impossible to imagine what happened today. The hellish machine sent a shell into our home. Thank you to everyone who helped clear the rubble, put out the fire. Uncle Sasha is not wounded, a friend took him to the neighboring courtyard. The guys will close up the hole in the roof tomorrow. They are real heroes! You know, I am madly glad now that there is no connection, and none of my close ones – not my sister, not my mother, not my father, not Aunt Nadya Volkova – know about the nightmare that happened today.

The men are holding up like champs. Nadyusha is making plans for the future. She says: I will renovate Uncle Sasha's kitchen.

The roar, the dust, the building's roof scattered across the whole perimeter of the courtyard, brick fragments, a shell in Uncle Sasha's kitchen, the smoke, a sea of people, panic, fear…

Among the melted candles and evening prayers,

Among the military trophies and peaceful campfires,

Lived bookish children who knew no battles,

Languishing from their petty catastrophes.

They lived and did not understand that they were happy.

Day Fifteen: March 10, 2022, Thursday

Tonight was the first night spent entirely in the basement. Only the fearless Vitalik went up to the apartment to sleep for a while. I, Nadya, Olya, Vadik and Yura were in the basement all night. The fourteenth day of the war (and we so dreamed it would be the last) brought a real disaster to our home. On our side there is practically no roof. From Uncle Sasha's kitchen there is a hole right through to the sky. Once we used to thank nature for rain and snow, now we hope there will be neither. We used practically all our water putting out the fire. We managed with our own forces because the blaze was small. Otherwise the firefighters who arrived would have flooded our apartment.

Olya is sorting through various junk in the basement and making me laugh with her little jars. She asks which to throw out, which not. I myself have plenty of such treasures with excess. By the way, the first things that come in handy are precisely the ones I wanted to throw out. How nervous I was about Vitalik collecting various pieces of wood and other “neporib” (trash). And now the guys have stockpiled firewood on the landing for the campfire and it feels warmer in the soul (it did at that moment).

We made beds in our basement and in the corridor out of chairs and an old door. It came out splendidly!

The men rigged up a lamp; now it's like daytime here: a car battery + LED strip. Pure survival game. If only the shells would stop coming. The heavy artillery is firing, aircraft are bombing, you can hear the firefights from automatics and machine guns. The films about the Great Patriotic War seem like cartoons. We will probably remain in stage 1 forever. We see everything with our own eyes, our hearts ache, are torn to pieces along with the houses and the people. And yet still no one has been able to believe in this hell.

Uncle Sasha came to his apartment. I don't know what he is doing there. Probably tearing out the last remnants of his heart.

Sveta's brother Andrei came by on a bicycle. Brought a message from her. Their people are all unhurt and everything is intact. Only from Genchik there is most likely no news.

Olya says: “We're living like homeless people.” No, we'll start living that way when the water runs out.

Nika came, her cousin Dima, Ira and Kostya. They cheered us up wonderfully! Irka apparently has an inexhaustible supply of alcohol :)

Sasha Chalenko told us that in his building (the four-story on Semashko) a girl gave birth to a baby at city hospital #3. A shell hit it. She was wounded by the glass, and the police with the Red Cross delivered her home. They treated her wounds on the spot, with the child everything is fine. A great miracle! A new life!

Nadyusha was making tea for everyone. Uncle Vitya came in, and she offered him a little glass of the hot drink. God, how much gratitude, how much happiness in this little old man over what would so recently have been an utterly insignificant gesture from a child. The old man is tormented terribly by the fact that he cannot bury his wife, that he was unable to wash her and dress her in her favorite dress. It is simply a nightmare – all these things I am trying briefly to describe.

Little Nayda pesters everyone, barks at the explosions, often drives me crazy, but I am madly glad we have wonderful neighbors Olya and Vadik, they love animals very much. Now we live like one family.

Vadik's friend Seryozha comes by from time to time. About him a separate story… A Man with a capital M, a Hero, constantly bringing us news! The fellow isn't afraid, walks around handsome, charming in a strict stylish coat, and brings people joy. A complete stranger has become extraordinarily dear. We have all become kin here, blood relatives. Only I know nothing about my sister, about papa, about mama. Poor mama, alone, she probably has nothing to feed her animals. I can only rely on the neighbors.

So here we sit in the basement: Vadik, Olya, little Nayda, Vitalik, Nadyusha, little Masha, Knopochka (most likely in second-floor Olya's basement) and Yura – the Green Scarf :) Irka, on the way out, threw out: “Hold on, guys, and you – Green Scarf, hold on!” Where did he dig up that awful green mohair scarf from the '90s? Warm, probably?

Nadyusha drew a calendar for March and we hung it up. Today is March 10, the 15th day of the war…

Seryozha, one of the heroes of our time, told us what food costs: 100 UAH for 1 kg of flour! No need to say more…
And what's the point – all our money remained “safely” in the PUMB bank. My husband Vitalik dreamed of buying a car. A golden dream!

1,170 people – civilians, in the period of the Great Russian Liberation, or the insane hellish game of the Crazy Putler. And that's just in Mariupol!

The messenger-heroes said the rescue workers stood on their knees before the military on the left bank, begged for permission to dig people out from under the rubble; they didn't allow it. A card game of madmen.

20:44. How I'd love to eat some kind of fruit! Yurka brought icy apples, Vitalik is warming one inside his shirt for Nadyusha. A jar of canned peaches – that's divine! What a thrifty fellow! Cheers up the girls!

Day Sixteen: March 11, 2022, Friday

Cold. The frost is getting stronger. In the basement it's warmer than in the apartment. It's impossible to sleep for two reasons: either you shudder from the explosions, or you freeze stiff, despite the fact that there's more clothing on me than I weigh myself…

Vadik is heating a mug of water on dry fuel. Nadyusha is sleeping in the basement, made little Nayda warm her at night. Olya struggles with Chester. Vitalik is sleeping in the apartment with Podrik. 7:18. My feet are frozen…

12:19. At last my feet have warmed up. We had breakfast. The enemy aircraft does not stop circling above us. The explosions, which we hear constantly, are becoming more and more familiar.

Sveta's brother brought a note from her and some vegetables. From such grand events it really does grow warmer – from such wonderful people who under bullets carry word to others.

Andryusha Lukash rides around the neighborhood on a bicycle in search of food for his dog. He wanted to move his mother and sister to my mama's, but they don't agree. He's changed greatly in appearance, well, we all have…

I look at myself in the mirror and see an eighty-year-old woman.

I want to say that all of us here in besieged Mariupol are, each in our own way, Heroes: some bring news, others aren't afraid under bullets to check on their loved ones, to obtain food and water, to support the despairing, to wander the area trying to catch an antenna signal on a mobile screen, to cook hot food at the risk of their lives. That is real heroism, not pointless shooting on someone's senile orders. In people's hearts there are such enormous holes that even the most magical threads cannot stitch them up. Damn this war!!!

15:42. Very cold, especially Nadya. I rubbed her feet with my palms. Heated water at Oleg's on the grill, poured it into bottles and packed them around Nadya. I hope she warms up. I'm starting to cough. Some vodka with lemon would be nice. Yura brought some. I pour about a hundred grams, drink it, and realize I've drunk some kind of poison. It turned out to be pure alcohol! I thought everything inside would burn out. But that doesn't matter – what matters is that I warmed up, as if on a fine summer day at the beach. Thank you for that!

17:13. I'm washing dishes, a shout in the entryway: “Vitalya!” I was startled. It turned out to be Sasha Kaurtaev! He brought two packs of cigarettes. Dimka is with him. They cheered us up wonderfully again! The whole family is hand-picked. They return us to normal life. Dima also keeps a diary (he's 25). Amazing. We'll publish a book together :)

Sasha Chalenko came with the latest news. In Sadki two houses burned completely to the ground, before his eyes during a trip to the well for water. In the Ukraina settlement a nine-story building burned down.

Day Seventeen: March 12, 2022, Saturday

The night was relatively quiet. Surprisingly, I managed to sleep on the cot in the basement. It dawned and I dared to go up to the apartment to Vitalik, climbed under his blanket-tent and felt such peace as I have not felt once in these days. After a short while heavy bombing started very close by. It seems we learned that two shells fell – into a house on Sasha Kaurtaev's street and near Sveta Zavodina's. It's not known whether there are casualties.

Preparing breakfast is getting harder. Vadik is very tired, his bad leg is making itself felt in a particular way now. But hot food needs to be eaten, and everyone understands that and puts in every possible effort. Dima and Natasha checked in on us again! They had been at mama's. Poor thing, she's exhausted, worrying, and her hypertension – which doesn't give her peace anyway – is bothering her even more now. Does she have her medicines? Thank God they came in time and she didn't tear off down the road! My fearless mama. She sent food: a huge jar of hot borshch and much more. I wrote her a note, but I didn't describe any events (Dima and Natasha will tell her without my help), I just said “thank you” and asked for forgiveness.

We were heating a kettle at Oleg Sudar's. People came to his wife Natasha and said the city center is destroyed. Our wonderful city destroyed by who knows whom and for what! For the sake of what goal is everything destroyed and people perishing?!?!?!

Artur and Lyuba were looking for Uncle Sasha, we told them where he is now.

Vadik and Vitalik climbed up to the attic, laid sheets of slate over the hole. It was heroic! From the photos Vadik took up there I saw the true picture of destruction.

I live only for one thing: I hope that everything, even the most terrible, sooner or later comes to an end…

Lyoshka found some little calendars at his place, gave them out to the neighbors. And I still write the date on the door in chalk…

Hope dies last…

In my circle there are many Nadyas: my daughter, Aunt Nadya Volkova, the woman from the second entryway who not long ago bought an apartment in our building, my dear little sister. I walk on the street, when it's quieter, trying to catch a signal. To talk to my sister even for a minute…

Today I put on the agate bracelet that Seryozha Orlov gave me (a month before the war), I convince myself that these beads are truly magical and will become our talisman.

18:25. I write with the pen that Lyosha gave me, I wrote one line with great difficulty, it doesn't want to write, although it's very beautiful, with sparkles, in a case.

For two minutes Katya Golysheva dropped by – a marvelous red-haired Katyusha. Uncle Vitya is suffering from being unable to bury his wife. Today the military came to them, wanted to confiscate the car, but he managed to fend them off. We were scared to death, thought either they had come to take the men, or wanted to set up a cannon in our building. At that moment it seemed to me that my heart tore loose and flew off somewhere into space. For several hours I can't come to my senses, inside it's burning with a hellish flame. My legs almost gave out. 20:20. Something burst somewhere nearby…

Vitalik went for water to Sadki. There's a well there. The second time he took Nadya with him; it was unbearable to wait…

Uncle Sasha Volkov came by with some young man. They took a few things and a jug of water. And he told us to drain the water from his aquarium (the fish were already lying on the bottom) and take the drinking water from the tank. I couldn't go up to his apartment.

I look at a photo on my phone… The kids from work, the girls, classmates, friends and acquaintances… All those of whom I know nothing… Many of them I may never see again and not even know whether they are alive… I watch a video of me dancing with papa on his 60th birthday; Gennady is telling some story about pea soup, Svetka is laughing, and Ksyu is making comments, remembering Yana and Vitalik; we are singing Chizh's song “A Walk Through Odessa” with Dashka, and next to me are Olya Shalamova and Vitalka (it's probably Oksana filming). We are at the beach; Christmas at Yana's, dancing to Kuzmin's “Hey, Pretty One”; a pirate party in Yuryevka, drunk Seryozhka, all of us dressed as pirates; to a song (check the title, illegibly written) Oksanka and I twirl on the shore of our Sea of Azov and sing along to it: The Show must go on! The show must go on! Anything but this! Madness! Bringing only grief and death! The photograph of papa and mama together on our Vodoprovodnaya Street completely undid me.

I have stopped remembering people before sleep. My hands fall. “Please, don't do this! Don't you dare! Don't go mad! You will never forgive yourself your weakness!” – I shout at myself, but no one answers.

21:15. I can no longer sleep. Fear – not for myself, but for my loved ones – has filled every cell of my body.

Yuryevka. The very beginning of summer. The sun is still gentle. In the morning the sea is calm, quiet, like a little mirror. By the very shore baby fish play, someday they will become big fish, will replenish the fauna, will die and be born, and the seagulls and small birds I don't recognize will not cease to soar above the sea, diving head-down into the water in swift attack, wanting to catch a little fish. I sit in my favorite beach chair, my feet touch the water, it is a bit cool, but pleasant to me.

…I am in my own bed. No one is shooting. My child is sleeping in her room. In the morning she has to go to the institute. Beside me is my husband Vitalik, warm and very beloved. And we fall asleep at the same time… We dream one and the same dream, as long as our whole shared life, with all our good and bad moments, even quarrels. But we are very happy in that dream. So happy that we never want to wake up.

Day Eighteen: March 13, 2022, Sunday

All night and morning aircraft were bombing, and the artillery, and some incomprehensible cannons. We flinch at every sound! The night and the first half of the day passed in a kind of madness. I can't even properly remember anything. I can only say one thing: to go to the toilet in the apartment (and not even on the toilet, but into a bucket that smells horribly) at the speed of sound was unrealistically difficult. It takes so long to take off and put on clothes, fearing that you'll have to run out of the apartment with a bare backside.

Seryozha came by. He had been in the center of the city, or rather, in what is left of it. He described the horrors he saw with his own eyes. It was hardest for Vadik to hear: his mother and relatives are there. He knows nothing of them all this time.

The second half of the day is relatively quiet. We managed to heat the kettle several times. We ate mama's borshch.

18:40. Yura is a wizard. Whatever you might want, you only have to think of it, and right there Yura is next to you, pulling the object of desire out of his magic pocket: cream for coffee, chips, fruit.

Sasha Chalenko came by, a little man capable of lifting one's spirits, after talking with whom it grows warmer even in this world that is soaked through with war and disaster.

I saw Sveta Zavodina today. She lives in a shelter with her mama and son. I asked about Anya and her family – she knows nothing.

Day Nineteen: March 14, 2022, Monday

I slept a long time… My lower back hurts, my leg, and the whole right side. I suffered through the night, although it was quiet, and toward morning fell asleep like an infant. Everyone is already up. Olya cooked buckwheat. Even Nadyusha's voice was audible through my sleep, but I couldn't get up.

We stood a long line at “Lyubava” for food. Dima and Natasha came. In the line I saw Zhenya Karachevtsev, our neighbor from the Ukraina settlement where we used to live. How joyful it is to see familiar faces!

Vita and Zhenya moved from Ukraina to Puglino, next door to mama, to their parents.

Vita gave me 200 UAH. I didn't want to take it, but she persuaded me: “I'm lending it to you.” And then I understood that she very much wants to meet again. For 180 UAH I was given 1 kg of sugar, 3 kg of flour and 1 kg of buckwheat. Vitalik got 2 kg of flour, 1 kg of sugar and 1 kg of rice for 170 UAH. Tomorrow we'll get in line at 6 in the morning. I want to send some to mama.

Andrei the godfather came by on a bicycle. He had ridden from the center of the city. Horror! The center is destroyed! By aviation! Volontyorovka settlement is destroyed, literally wiped off the face of the earth! The Eastern and Left Bank too! On the Left they dug a mass grave and are dumping bodies into it. It is something impossible!

Lyosha brought me an MDF board. He asked me to write a gravestone plaque for Aunt Valya. I tried my best, in such conditions. It came out beautifully. Maybe Uncle Vitya will be a little gladdened…

Vadik found a small-sized work uniform for Nadya, completely new. We cut off the reflective strips and dressed her. She is so funny and at the same time very grown-up, my girl. I have the impression that I slept through a piece of life and my child has grown up greatly. So wise, strong, my little one who has instantly become an adult.

This is Dimka's scribble – a small real Hero. (Domennaya 26/3)

Yura: today I went to the center, I see they're looting the central market. The men are shouting: “Frozen anchovy!” I take some and think: I'll eat it raw together with my little cat. I'm generally raw-eater: I eat vegetables raw, ate raw herring once – delightful. I'll feed, I think, Katya, your cats and all the cats in the area. That's our Yurka all over – a Man (with a capital M!) in a green scarf.

My dear little sister! How are you there, my dearest? Just don't go mad, I beg you! We are alive and will live for the children, for our loved ones! And we will definitely meet again!

I am in school. I am about 9 or 10 years old. Geography class is being taught by Kutsenko Tetyana Leonidivna, a delicate, kindly woman. The world is as it is. On the teacher's desk a globe, a beautiful one, blue with parts of land: continents, peaks and lowlands, rivers and lakes. There, somewhere, is our wonderful little city, our extraordinary country. Beside me are my friends, girls and boys who have now become women and men, each with their own dear children, beseeching all the Gods of the Universe. We are so carefree and young and don't even imagine what a terrible future lies ahead… A braid, a white ribbon, and a gaze like a flower opening for the first time in spring.

Day Twenty: March 15, 2022, Tuesday

Spring is in full bloom, despite the war… Today I saw the buds of yellow crocuses, tasty buds on the roses. The houseplants are quietly dying. They are very cold. Only the kalanchoe pleases with its blooming. In the apartment it's about +5°C.

In the morning we drew water from the heating system with the whole courtyard. I lit the fire, heated water, fried sausage. I even managed to wash. Unbelievable! Only I had to dress very quickly, because shells were lighting up and explosions were heard very close. With wet hair I ran to the basement.

In the morning, while I was still asleep, Andriy Lukash came by. He had gotten his hands on some “Maria” cookies somewhere and gave a treat to his goddaughter, our little Nadiya.

Dima came under shelling. We were very frightened when he ran in to us and told us about it.

Vitalik went into the broken-into, looted offices of the combine. By a miracle he managed to bring home 15 first-aid kits, very well stocked, with everything usable. A truly heroic act. Tomorrow we'll share with the neighbors.

In general, everything is bad.

The city is being demolished more and more!

More and more people are dying!

My beloved blooming city! Beautiful, modern, adorned with the wondrous sea, with plants and animals, with strong infrastructure and good-hearted, kindly people. How could a hand be raised to destroy all this for the stupid inhuman ambitions of an antichrist who has lost his mind!

Lord, Merciful One,

Save and Preserve Ukraine!

P.S. I don't check for a signal anymore. Forgive me, my dear little sister.

Day Twenty-One: March 16, 2022, Wednesday

The whole day is relatively quiet. Could it be that it's all ended? Or perhaps this is the beginning of the end?

Today we buried Aunt Valya. None of the men dared go to the cemetery, we unanimously decided to bury her in the courtyard. Horrible! The men dug the pit. A coffin was somehow obtained. All the neighbors gathered in the courtyard and saw this wonderful woman, born and laid to rest during a war, on her final journey. May the kingdom of heaven be hers!

Olya and I went to the Kaurtaevs', hoping to learn where to get cigarettes and to charge our gadgets. They are sitting on suitcases, wanting to leave, but it is completely unknown whether that's realistic. On the way back we stopped in at Anya Yevtushenko's. I called her, knocked at the gate, but no one came out. Their yard is in ruins, most likely they have gone somewhere. On the way we met Artyom Buchin, Nadyusha's friend. A boy, always friendly and sunny, grown up beyond his years. He didn't recognize me. I was probably right about the 80-year-old grandmother. God keep you, child!

“My dear little sister! If only you knew how we live, how much horror each resident of our city and of other cities of our beautiful country has to let pass through them! If only you saw the destroyed city, so dear and beloved!

If only you heard the sounds of shells bursting, hitting houses and human lives! If only you saw the abandoned animals with their emptied, hopeless eyes! Do you hear the moan of the Earth? Do you hear the moans of people: children, old men, men and women, mothers with babies?

I do not tire of writing you SMSes that don't reach you. I do not tire of believing that we will all survive in the name of letting our descendants know what was really going on in Ukraine in 2022.

If you hear me and the cries of frightened people, the strong and the weak, those who do not lose hope and those who have despaired, your heart would already have torn into a thousand tiny pieces. Don't hear me! Live! And don't lose hope! We are alive! And we will certainly meet again, when the war ends and we will be glad of the simplest things: silence, the sun, birdsong, the smiles of loved ones, ordinary unfussy food, water and the warmth of a fire and peace…

Wait, my dear, and our patience will be rewarded! Lord! Save and preserve! Amen!”

Day Twenty-Two: March 17, 2022, Wednesday

Cold. Snow. Frost. Surprisingly, no one has gotten sick yet. Apparently the body has turned on its reserves.

The day went by as usual. An ordinary day of “ordinary life.” We freeze, our legs and whole bodies ache from the enormous amount of clothing on each of us, from the endless running up and down, from accumulated exhaustion of the last 22 days.

Katya Golysheva came by with the guys on some old jalopy that had “Children” written on it. They brought us a bag of flour that they had gathered up from the floor. If God has gifted us with anything in this life, it is good friends.

I never did get to mama… In the morning I fried pancakes, in the daytime I cooked borshch for the whole company, and toward evening I wanted to be home. They weren't shooting and it was so good and cozy, despite the fact that the apartment is like a shed. I even managed to wipe the floor in Nadya's room, the hallway and kitchen. The plants are dying, my heart bleeds. I don't know whether I did the right thing or not, I watered them a little with warm water and wiped the leaves with a damp napkin.

No connection. No water. No heat. No electricity. And, in all likelihood, we are beginning to get used to this chaos (this dereliction).

Day Twenty-Three: March 18, 2022, Friday

What monstrous eyes war has!

People are going mad! Hunger! Fear! Hopelessness!

If only one could know when this madness will end? We don't need any of the worldly comforts!!! Just let us live in peace, without shooting!!! My daughter and I will go to the well, bring water, wash the apartment, wash ourselves and be madly happy! We will all climb up onto the roof, even Nadyusha, and repair it, and we will all together restore our wonderful city for our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Lord, save and preserve!

I am at the Drama Theatre. We came with our child to a play. She won a city-drawing competition. Together we drew a picture about our wonderful city and won tickets to the play. Wonderful! If only it were so now! Even if the war ends now, there will be nothing left in our country and our children will have no future. There is no theatre in the city center, no beautiful entertainment centers, no parks. Our mayor tried hard to make our city even more beautiful, but it was all in vain, for it has been destroyed by the hands of the devil.

I am in my old apartment, where we used to live. We've only just come from the maternity hospital, which can be seen from the window of our kitchen. With me are my mama, my little sister and my husband. In my arms I am holding my newborn child – new life. Everyone is busy and happy. A new meaning has appeared in the life of our family. Outside, October is playing with the bright colors of autumn…

Many Octobers have passed and my daughter is almost twenty. Outside it is March, frost, the temperature around -10°C, and almost always there is light snow.

It is very cold. I don't remember such weather at this time of year. Everyone is busy, but with completely different worries. And on faces there is no happiness anymore.

Day Twenty-Four: March 19, Saturday

Uncle Sasha Volkov comes by sometimes. He was here this morning, was crying, said the people from the church support him. I can't even imagine what he experiences when he steps into his home. He takes something and leaves again…

And here came the day when people turned into non-humans!!! This is what I feared most of all. Olya turned out to be the weakest link and was the first to make a scene. The complaints were endless: they made a mess on the bench, cluttered up the whole entryway, eating together was a bad idea, where is my spoon and other things in this style. I feel very sorry for her… It is very hard to survive separately. She reproached me with the claim that, supposedly, we have eaten all their food, and now I am taking everything bit by bit out of hiding and yesterday with a sour face gave her two potatoes. Nonsense! When their water runs out, I don't even know which of them will go for it, if they are both afraid to go beyond their own entryway.

She called me a “rat.” God will be her judge! Everything our friends brought, I put out on the common table. Why count things now? The person has made her choice. And life will put everything in its place later. And everyone will get their due for all their actions. And I… have swallowed too much already, I'll swallow this too.

I want to say, today is probably the worst day, although deep down I knew that this would happen sooner or later. It hurts. It hurts a lot. But the most important thing is my family, and I will have to endure much more for it to survive. Now I take deep breaths, exhale, and calm myself… I am at home and I feel good and calm, beside me little Nayda clicks her little claws, outside the window dogs are barking, the sun is shining and it will always be this way. Lord! Save and preserve! Everyone! And give Olya strength and reason more than everyone else.

Separately I would like to write about the guys on the fire trucks. Truly real Heroes! Past our building regularly drives the “Talakivka” truck with shattered glass, inside of which sit men made of steel and granite; not a muscle flinches on their faces. Under unending bombings they perform their duty. A low bow to you, great people!

Vitalik and I go to the Kaurtaevs', to Irina and to Anya. The first are holding up well. But little Anya has wilted completely, I had to cheer her up with whatever came to mind. “Don't despair, my dear friend, you'll still ride that crane of yours, we'll work together again.”

Day Twenty-Five: March 20, 2022, Sunday

There are fewer and fewer emotions. Either we've gotten used to it, or being afraid has gotten tiresome, and the brain accepts what is happening as given. Hopelessness. There is no information about when finally this nightmare will end. And that more than anything is depressing. People are becoming sadder and sadder, their faces no longer at all what they were before, despite the fact that many still joke and smile. They are other smiles. They resemble the grimaces of madmen, forcibly confined to a psychiatric hospital. In reality every one of them is sure that he is normal and with great success lives happily in his own world.

My loved ones, my dear, wonderful people are gradually crumbling like houses of cards, breaking down, going mad, despairing. Their beautiful eyes are dimming – brown, blue, gray, once bright, with little fires inside the eye. The cheerful red-haired Katyusha is crying, and behind the veil of tears I cannot see the color of her eyes. Hold on! Hold on to the end with the last of your strength, my dear Katenka!

I don't know whether Aleksei quoted it or made it up himself: “They can take everything from us: food, water, heat and much more. Even our lives. But they will never take Hope from us!”

Day Twenty-Six: March 21, 2022, Monday

The city is destroyed! According to existing data: what we see ourselves, what is told to us by people, every one of whom has become incredibly close. I know that, so to speak, little has survived: the Illichivskyi district and Prymorskyi. The Eastern and Left Bank were turned into a wasteland at the very start of the war. Volontyorovka, Ukraina have been crushed. The Center, Kirova, the 17-23 microdistricts are crushed, Mirnyi is on fire.

They are trying to raze our wonderful city to the ground!!! Inhumans! Who needs this? Why do they want our death? And who are they? We don't understand anything!

My precious mama and papa, please, live! Forgive me, my dear ones, for everything I did wrong! I stand before you on my knees, I kiss your feet and the earth on which you walk. God keep you!

My beloved friends: Serhiyko Orlov, dear Oksana, Andriyko Lukash, Yana and Vitalik, Vita. Forgive me, I can't even remember all of you right now. Please, live! I beg the universe, I beg Mother Earth! Only stay alive!

My little daughter Nadiya!

I and your papa always wanted the best for you, we worked for your sake and for your future. Forgive us that we did not manage to give you everything you deserve, my beauty, my clever girl. Believe me, we are trying to survive only for the sake of pulling you out of this hell, peeling our own skin off ourselves, so that you have a future, a family, dear children, a good life. My darling child, live and be happy!

Day Twenty-Seven: March 22, 2022, Tuesday

Some time we managed to “sleep” in the apartment, the rest of the time on watch in the basement. Each new day is more difficult: constant lack of sleep, endless movement in inhuman conditions, preparing food under flying shells and explosions… My legs ache horribly, my knees feel turned inside out, the hands from cold, dirt and washing dishes in cold water are covered in sores. Partial washing comes once every 4–5 days, my head itches. We have to save water. And bathing in the cold is unbearable.

Today I went into Uncle Sasha's apartment. He left us the keys. Vitalik and I cleared away the bricks, stacked them on the landing, it will be a little easier for him to get to his home. I carried a shell out of the apartment, I don't want it to be there. Tomorrow we'll need to carry it out of the building.

Yesterday Vitalik Lyubarsky came by on a children's bicycle. A completely different man! Serious. He speaks much better. I understand every word of his. He told us how their apartment, his and Yana's, was damaged in the first days. Yana stayed with her mother Aunt Lyusya at her place, and Vitalik crawled for half a day to his mother Irina, who lives not far from us. Today he came again. He said he had been at Yana's in the morning, brought her water. Now a shell has hit Aunt Lyusya's apartment. Vitalik is now a real little fighter on a little bicycle.

Sasha Chalenko came by, treated us to a “blended” drink; we chatted, joked, I fried flatbread, which everyone took for a real, most delicious cake, then we drank coffee. But suddenly an explosion very close by, black smoke from the direction of Sasha's house. I will never forget his face! Thank God, the shell fell between his house and the neighbor's. There were only broken windows. No casualties.

Half the day we spent getting water. Vitalik miraculously discovered that there was still water in the boilers in the “Equipment Department.” We managed to bring home about 100 liters of water suitable for cooking. It's a real miracle! We had to drain it for a very long time, through a thin little tube, but the result justified all our suffering.

We managed to buy 5 packs of cigarettes at 100 hryvnias each.

In Lena Bizgora's courtyard some people were selling. Lena, as always, is busy with cares, taking care of all the animals in the area, a kind soul.

Veronika, Ira, Kostya, Sasha, Lena, Marina, Dimka, Slavik and some elderly woman have left. Already yesterday, according to the neighbor. In their house the windows are smashed. Tomorrow I need to go: hide or take to my place valuable things – Ira asked. God grant they make it and safely reach Melekino.

An aircraft is circling, dropping deadly rockets on our native city, on our houses and into our hearts. We are sitting in the basement. Yurka brought apples. Probably the most delicious I've seen. Everyone is exhausted to the limit, faces have gone gray, eyes are full of fear and despair, but we are alive and a flame of hope, even if very small, still lives with us in our wounded hearts.

Goodnight, my dear mother Ukraine!

Our enemies will perish,

Like dew in the sun.

And we too shall reign, brothers,

In our own native land.

Day Twenty-Eight: March 23, 2022, Wednesday

Aircraft are bombing…

We are making breakfast: hot soup from the day before yesterday.

We are tidying up the shed. It has never been so clean there. We spend half the day on it. The second half of the day we spent at Veronika's. The third day they aren't there. We boarded up the windows, cleaned up the garbage, gathered some food. Ira asked to take the television. Twice we carried everything home. We'll be checking on it once a day, if there's an opportunity. We found a bottle of wine in the shed, poured a liter into a jar. Very tasty. We found fresh vegetables in their refrigerator: Chinese cabbage, white cabbage, parsley, lettuce leaves. I made myself a divine salad. All instincts have remained at the level of animal survival.

Today the godfather Andrei came by. Brought a message from mama. I gave first-aid kits to mama, my mother-in-law, the godfather. The Petrenko family has left. Apparently, Dima killed all his pigeons and gave them to mama. She sent us one prepared pigeon. We are not eating it. Horrible. Andrei said he got through on the phone to my sister Nadya. A miracle!

I washed. Partly. I washed my hair. In the water I bathed in, I managed to launder a few things: socks, tights and underwear.

Another awful day…

We have come to terms. Just don't shoot! I want to say that reactions to shots and explosions are completely dulled, we do our ordinary tasks, even in conditions that are completely not those. One must always be doing something – so my aunt Masha used to say. And we do, life goes on, we cannot fold our hands, in the name of the future of our children.

Goodnight, my dear ones, my precious people, and all the people of our extraordinary Ukraine!

Live!!!

Day Twenty-Nine: March 24, 2022, Thursday

19:23. Another day is coming to a close – the twenty-ninth from the beginning of the war. Everyone here, in this hell, behaves differently: some still fear every sound just as in the first days, others have resigned themselves, still others have accepted it as payment for all their sins and those of all humanity, many have calmed down and bustle about in their domestic routines. Others are trying to break out of the city and start a new life elsewhere. As for us, in family council we decided not to leave on a whim, to wait until the shooting ends, and after that to make decisions based on circumstances. The fact that the city has no future for a decade – that is certainly an indisputable fact. People who have been in other districts describe the scale of destruction, which is simply horrifying.

We spent the morning at Ira's house. Put the kitchen in order. Vitalik was boarding up windows again. The air raids did not stop. During the day we cooked food: borshch and pearl barley porridge. Vitalik Lyubarsky came by again on a bicycle. He tried to ride to Yana on Kurchatovo. The Ukrainian military didn't let him through.

Seryozha and Kristina have been living with us, that is, in Olya and Vadik's apartment for several days now. Kristina is crying…

I heard that the people are leaving from the water-cure clinic and from the fire station – the rescue workers. That's very bad. Seeing these fearless men made it much easier for me, and it seemed there was at least some protection nearby.

We are tired, exhausted… Ordinary people, not guilty of anything, working people, who just wanted to live a simple life.

Tomorrow is the thirtieth day. Is that a lot or a little? No one knows the answer. Every evening, lying down to sleep, we sincerely believe that in the morning the aircraft dropping rockets will no longer fly, the guns vomiting deadly shells will not thunder, and everything familiar will return to its usual course, and all this nightmare will turn out to have been a terrible dream.

Day Thirty: March 25, 2022, Friday

19:35. Of the 400 people who had been in the water-cure clinic, today 26 are left. The rest in a column went either to the 17th microdistrict, or beyond the city. According to rumors, in the 17th microdistrict the DPR is distributing food rations and it is safer there. But rumors are plenty, as is the one that water and electricity have been restored to Vostochnyi. Uncle Vitya (81 years old) walked there on foot today and saw with his own eyes that there is nothing there but complete chaos and gloom, gunfire and fleeing wounded people.

Today people have also left the shelter in Uncle Sasha Chalenko's courtyard for Talakovka.

Tomorrow even fewer of us will remain. Oleg Sudar is leaving with his family for Novooleksiivka. They have a dacha there. Chalenko is taking his family of 10 people out in two cars to the village of Zelenyi Yar. He came to “say goodbye.” Said – we'll come back at the first opportunity.

Olya and Vadik want to move to the 17th microdistrict. Vadik's mother and brother are there. But I am not sure they will dare go there on foot.

Most likely the Goncharovs will leave, but probably without Uncle Vitya. I think he will not leave the grave of his “girl Valya” (as he said of her).

The dog Sonya, the Sudars are leaving her. A little old red skinny one. Where there are four, there is room for five. If Vadik and Olya go, the cat Tima will be added as well.

In our building few residents will remain: Uncle Sasha has gone, the Sudars are leaving, Olya Khloponina never came back from her trip, Vadik and Olya are “on their suitcases.” There will remain: me, Vitalik, Nadyusha, Valya and her mother Olya, Aunt Nadya, Aunt Natasha with her mother.

We go out in the morning to charge power banks at the clinic, the factory administration building was still smoking… The women offered to move in with them. But we will stay home within our own walls, steadfastly wait for the end of the war all together, together with those who are staying to wait. And if the most terrible thing is fated, then let it happen here, at home, rather than somewhere in a foreign land or in a moment of flight.

“Patience and labor will wear everything down.”

Yesterday I started re-reading Jodi Picoult's “The Storyteller” (Russian edition: “Lessons of Mercy”). A novel about the Holocaust, about life and death, about repentance and forgiveness; an astonishingly relevant epigraph I found!

“It is hard to imagine that someone suddenly stops considering another person human. That would only mean that he himself has ceased to be human.”

Simon Wiesenthal, “The Sunflower.”

Night between the 30th and 31st days.

I stayed to sleep in the apartment with my husband. Next to each other we are very warm. The cat and the dog sleep beside us. Sometimes wild silence, I don't even know whether it was long or not. It seemed the infernal machines worked without stop this whole night.

What unit of measurement can really be used to measure human grief?

How many human tears have already been shed – it cannot be compared even with the amount of water in the World Ocean.

How does one measure the distance to God, to whom prayers are sent by millions of the destitute?

Is there a name for the illness of the inhuman who started this senseless bloody war, having crippled so many lives?

If only one knew whom to ask? If only one knew who will answer for all the sufferings of my people, for the broken spirit and the unbearable despair?

The red “Talakivka” truck, which had given at least some hope, no longer comes by. We no longer see anywhere the iron-clad guys in firefighters' uniforms behind shattered windows. They too have left the city. The time of mass panic has come. Many have run out of food. Others can no longer bear the terrible explosions, fear for themselves and for their little children. And they flee from one abyss into another. And in this endless chaos each person makes his own choice.

My city is not a dot on the world map,

My city is a huge granite Titan.

Even with the skin flayed off, the body holed,

We stand, swaying a little, splitting at the seams,

And we pray to all the gods…

My wondrous city, in the blood of the fallen,

In the tears of the living, stands in fire,

Cries out to all the gods. But no one hears.

No one is taking part in this war,

And it hurts threefold…

My Hero City, your children are with you,

My city is Hope, Faith, Love.

Remain alive on this beautiful planet,

Not a dot on the globe, but a star,

The very brightest in the world.

So that your children, your sons and daughters,

Stitch your wounds with themselves,

With blood and sweat, with all their might,

Stitch your wounds with their souls.

Live, my Hero City!

Day Thirty-One: March 26, 2022, Saturday

The morning turned out unbearably awful!!! A deadly rocket fell on Veronika's (niece's) street. A crater about 5 meters deep and with a diameter the size of our apartment. The house next to Veronika's is destroyed. One woman was killed. I cannot describe the horror I experienced. Uncle Sasha's relatives are getting ready to leave.

Very many people left the city today. This fact “undid” us completely. Vitalik so devastated I had not seen once in all the days of the war. Chalenko left with his family, Oleg Sudar, the Goncharovs. A column of eight cars. The rest are walking on foot in the direction of the 17th microdistrict. Tired, despairing people move in little groups, carrying some belongings on themselves, in the hope of getting at least some food and protection there. But this is all rumors – whether it is so or not, no one knows reliably. They have to go by roundabout routes, risking falling under fire. So Seryozha Dzyubach went too with his mother and brother. By chance we managed to meet. My dear ones are walking off into the unknown, and we will remain here in our homes in the same unknown. They shot Sasha Shulik somewhere in the Mukhino area. So Seryozha said.

Each day we live through as in hell. Each day brings us new trials, maiming our consciousness more and more. And there is neither end nor edge to this…

Tomorrow Olya and Vadik plan to leave. In our entryway only our family will remain.

Uncle Vitya sits on a little bench by his girl's grave. The sight is unbearable! We try to support him as best we can. But, I think, all words here are superfluous, and there aren't any words at all… Only stony faces, empty eyes, callused hands cracked from dirt and cold, and wounded hearts in which a tiny flame of Hope glows.

Day Thirty-Two: March 27, 2022, Sunday

“Everything in the world can be chosen, my son. Only your Motherland cannot be chosen!”

Another day. Just as terrible as the one before. New devastations, and crippled lives, and destroyed homes. A shell hit near our building, the last pane of glass in the window of the far room flew out.

We found bicycles in the Volkovs' garage. Nadya and Vitalik rode out to Olya and Vitalik's former colleague nearby. Their house too was damaged. At this time I was frying flatbreads over the fire. At the same time I was cleaning up branches and rubbish in the street.

Olya and Vadik couldn't go to the center of the city. The guide refused to lead the group. They waited about two hours. And then dispersed home. The girls from the neighboring entryway tried to reach the food rations, but didn't succeed. Maybe it had to be that way.

For today everyone is alive. And that is the most important thing. We wait for morning…

Many thoughts on political topics, but I don't want to write about that. I want to say only one thing: with all my heart I love my Motherland, so wonderful and incredible. Her cities and villages, rivers and sea, her sincere and warm-hearted people. And with all my heart I hate those inhumans who started a war against my country. And the people of this country have become bloody meat, worth less than half a kopek. In reality, human life is an empty bell and no one tells the truth.

My dear little sister, I will survive for the sake of bringing the truth to you and to others. And in this is my fate…

Day Thirty-Three: March 28, 2022, Monday

Morning at Uncle Vitya's in the courtyard. We're drinking tea. Dimka came, tired and drunk. We decide to go with him to the settlement. Nadyusha and I are in front, Vitalik and Dimka about a hundred meters behind us. At the fifth gate a soldier almost shot us. So strongly was I frightened for the second time in all 33 days. He ran, shouting obscenities. I ordered Nadya to fall behind a mound, and I, raising my hands up, yell: “Don't shoot! Two women! We're going to check on my mother! Haven't seen her for a month.” “Documents!” – he shouts. And we went out without them. “The house burned. The documents burned.” He comes closer. Very young. I fell on his chest, crying. And he turned out to be Dimka's neighbor, a volunteer. Name is Artyom. Thank God it turned out so. And we went on. But I experienced indescribable fear: not for myself, for my daughter.

Mama is holding up like a champion! The roof was blown off, but Andrei and Dima fixed it. We saw Natasha, little Kiryusha and grandmother Valya. Everyone breathed easier. In our hearts all the spring flowers bloomed. At the same time they wafted with the loveliest aromas, a hundred times more beautiful than the best perfumes of the best houses of Paris.

The road back turned out to be no easier. There was fighting, bullets flew over our heads. We had to hide, crouch, crawl. But, having made it home, exhaling with all our strength, we realized that we had accomplished something!

The Ukraina settlement is on fire!

Then we went to Veronika's. Everything is as before. We searched for a signal on the railway tracks near the market, didn't manage to. We tried to find Katya Golysheva's house, unsuccessfully. Vitalik wore me out with his curiosity, peeking into every yard and every car. My nerves gave out and I, leaving him, went home to my daughter. He came, alive…

I am in my parents' home. Mama and papa are young. I sit, as in a black-and-white photo, in one hand a green apple, in the other a wafer. In a kerchief, sweet and carefree. Beside me my father, dressed as he was then in the seventies, handsome and tousled. My sister was probably already born. And mama is rocking her in her arms. The trees are turning green, the birds are singing. And a great future lies ahead.

My dear little sister! We are alive and so is our mama. She, as always, is restless and bustling, runs around, bakes something. I saw her today!!! The boys, Andriy and Dmytro, repaired her roof, damaged by the shell that destroyed the neighbors' house.

I cooked soup from potatoes I found in the rubbish. They were very bad, but I cooked them and everyone ate with pleasure. At the Volkovs' we found vegetables: beets, carrots, onions, pumpkin, cabbage. All in very poor condition. I sorted through them and tomorrow I'll boil the vegetables for vinaigrette. The pumpkin we'll leave for later. There was also quince, half-rotten. I trimmed it, cut it into small pieces and covered it with sugar.

Little sister, can you imagine the horror I am writing about? Can you imagine how we are trying to survive in this hell? How I go to the rubbish heaps and rake through the trash, looking for leftover vegetables to boil for the animals. The poor dogs and cats, who were already many without homes, now there are ten times more of them. The people, leaving the city, have left them to fate.

All day I am trying to reach you on the phone, but there isn't a single bar on the phone. Forgive me, my dear. We will surely hear each other soon, I believe, and you believe too. Otherwise it's impossible.

Day Thirty-Four: March 29, 2022, Tuesday

For many days now I sleep in the apartment on my daughter's bed; my knees hurt very much, by evening they're simply twisted by unbearable pain.

The shooting doesn't stop even for a moment. Even bullets now fly over our heads in the courtyard. If we had had all this in the first days, we would probably all have died of heart rupture.

We want to go to Nika's, to see how things are there. We need to bring home water from their building – rainwater.

Today I washed the floor, heated water from Sasha's barrel and washed myself thoroughly, all of me, from head to foot.

Sveta Zavodina's nephew is a firefighter. He allowed us to draw two buckets of water from the fire station. Thank you, lad…

A family couple from the Mirne settlement is walking past, they are trying to find humanitarian food, because they have four children and there's nothing left to eat. I asked what their situation is like and named Oksana's street. They say, relatively quiet.

***

Here the diary breaks off.

An explosion sounds in the courtyard. Vitaliy runs out first. What if a fire breaks out? Behind him – Katya. And at that moment – a second explosion.

Vitalik died instantly. Katya received heavy wounds.

For a full day, together with her daughter, she would hide in the basement. On March 30 they would carry her to hospital #1. Katya – on the 2nd floor. Nadya – in the basement. The daughter would go up to her mother. Give her water. Give her injections. The doctors are already gone.

With her right surviving hand Katya would write in her phone, asking her daughter to save the diaries.

On April 2 a fire would break out in the hospital due to shelling. Katya had fractures of her hip, shoulder and jaw. And she would begin to burn. Together with the hospital. But she would manage to jump from the 2nd floor. And would fall under the windows of the ward. There her mother and mother-in-law would find her.

On April 1 or 2 Katya would write a note to her mama.

Mama!

I'm wounded.

In city hospital #1.

The doctors all left.

Broken leg and torn face.

Vitalik is dead.

Nadya is in the hospital basement. Help!

Mamo!

I am wounded.

In city hospital #1.

The doctors have all gone.

Broken leg and torn face.

Vitalik is dead.

Nadya is in the hospital basement. Help!

Some unknown man would deliver this note to the mama in the Mirnyi settlement.

The two mothers – Katya's and Vitaliy's – would go to the hospital. But would find the girl only after they had already lost all hope and were returning home. Katya would lie under a checkered bag. And her mother would see her daughter by chance.

Katya would die in her mother's arms on April 4. In the basement of the building.

The women would bury their children – Katya and Vitaliy – three times.

At present the Savenko family has found its eternal rest at the Starokrymskyi cemetery.

Katya is forever 42. Vitaliy is 47.

The daughter Nadiya and the mother survived. The neighbors also all survived.

Two diary notebooks were taken out by Lyudmyla Petrivna, the mother of Katya Savenko.

***

The very old, deaf dog Lyuska stands by the door, and nothing disturbs her. Spring. The whole courtyard glows with colors: scarlet, pink, white, yellow, and tulips of every possible shape and shade have opened their cups to the sun. The courtyard is filled with the scent of fresh bread, baked by my Great Toiler mama.

We are at mama Valya's.

She is telling stories from her life in the Ukrainian language. Mit'ka from time to time interrupts her, trying to put in his five kopecks. Natalka is preparing supper, sometimes tearing herself away and running into the room to say something to Kirill.

I am at my father's. We sit in the courtyard by their so-called homemade kitchen under the canopy of the cherry tree, with which he so loved to treat us. His wife Larisa runs around with pots and plates, as always trying to treat us to something tasty. Father brings a guitar and together we sing Vysotsky's “Kateryna,” his old work-worn fingers don't very deftly pick at the strings, but everyone likes it and we are very happy.

***

My sister and I are walking through the city. Nadya and Anyuta whisper something to each other, probably some girlish secrets. They are so beautiful, ours! Our girls. Now they are children of war – a senseless cruel war that has already crippled many human lives. Should they really live like this?

My little sister, as always, neat, well-dressed and smiling. She very much wants to walk around all the shops to buy herself something extraordinary, the kind that isn't in her city. She is in a hurry, because soon she has to go home, to Nikopol, to her husband Roman. Most likely she also wants to manage to buy him some pleasant gift. Let us walk till evening, girls! And we will surely eat fragrant pizza, which our children love so much.

I am in the basement of my half-destroyed building, writing in the half-darkness these lines…

***

Beside me along the shore walks Oksanka – little sun – her wonderful curls slightly tousled by the light breeze. We always go with her to the beach early in the morning, Nadyusha and Dasha are still sleeping and seeing beautiful peaceful dreams.

I am at work, which I so disliked, but didn't muster the courage to find another. I sit at my little machine, listening as monotonously every ten seconds a length of wire falls into the tray. Viktor walks past, smoking a cigarette and smiling. Larisa is probably sleeping in her little cubby, and the cat Musya is purring somewhere nearby. Romka walks back and forth, and Valya and Anya sweep the paths. The rest of the guys: Dimka, Sasha Bepedesyuk (check the spelling of the surname, illegibly written), Seryozhka Basiev, as always, are putting something together, clanging their bits of iron, and Maks and Pashka “light the fires,” welding parts. Forgive me that I don't mention all of you. But you are all dear to me…

***

I am home. In our apartment, which we obtained with such effort. Nadyusha is taking a shower and the gas water heater is constantly hissing, thereby irritating Vital'ka. He, in his blue checkered robe, stands eating mashed potatoes out of the pot and neatly puts into his mouth thin slices of salo, which we together bought at the market and salted in order to enjoy this delicacy later, taking another container out of the freezer. He gives the skin from each slice to Nayda, and she looks at him with her cloudy, grateful eyes. Mashka is sleeping in Nadya's room, Podrik in search of adventure roams the street, and I can hear his cat “trills” through the open window pane. Knopka is probably at the Volkovs' on the floor sleeping in their cupboard, where in the lower drawer Aunt Nadya hides cat food in order later to treat the fluffy ones. Uncle Sasha is hammering at something on the balcony, apparently he has some important business. In the apartment it is warm, an ordinary day, and everything is good.

I am at my parents' home. Mama has grown older, my dear mama, with a difficult woman's fate. Her cats scurry under foot, …

***

The next-to-last candle is burning down. Beside me my child sleeps on a homemade cot, and at her side breathes Nayda. Explosions and the whistle of shells can be heard somewhere far away. But this is no easier, there too are people, my fellow countrymen with their families, in their homes, on the streets or in basements, like me they beg for only one thing – Let the war end! Immediately and right now!

Enough of deaths!

Enough of grief!

Hear us!

I am in my own bed. No one is shooting. My child is sleeping in her room, in the morning she has to go to the institute. Beside me is my husband Vitalik, warm and very beloved. And we fall asleep at the same time… We dream one and the same dream as long as our shared [translator's note – Kateryna meant “shared life”; a lexical error] life, all our good and bad moments, even our quarrels. But we are very happy in this dream, so happy that we never want to wake up.

1. Day One: February 24, 2022, Thursday

The morning was completely normal. Nothing indicated the impending disaster. It was hard getting up for work. Then it all started! At the shift meeting, we were told to stay in one location. Strange. Then they let the women leave work, I don’t remember when.. around 9:00 AM. My coworker began to slip into depression, slowly but surely turning into hysteria. I walk home calmly.  Seeing a huge line at the ATM and that panic started, but not for me. Of course, I had to stand in line just in case  the money ran out. But I'm not panicking. People are sweeping goods off the shelves in stores, armfuls of sausages, water, carrying bread in bags! “Madness”! I think, and laugh. It was stupid panic. We had already experienced this in 2014. Now I am ashamed of these words and thoughts.

A call from the boss. We were not to go to work until further notice. "Katya, take care of yourself," he said last on the phone. It worried me a bit...

Couldn't we have understood already then?

2. Day Two: February 25, 2022, Friday

My daughter and I decided to go to the store. Transport around the city was free. Maybe we could withdraw some cash? It was impossible to pay with a card in our stores. In ATB, the shelves were half-empty. Only canned and dairy products were left. In “Shchyrom kum” store  the prices had skyrocketed. I started to go crazy. But I bought something.
Vitalik was at work, on the first shift.


****

38 days until the end of Katya’s life.

32 days until the end of her husband Vitaliy's life.

3. Day Three: February 26, Saturday

The sound of gunfire is becoming more frequent.
Vitalik has fallen ill, with a fever of 38.4°C. I urge him not to go to his night shift, but he goes. He returns five minutes later; the factory is on a standby. The management instructed everyone not to come to work. I still don’t understand what’s happening, yet I’m convinced this will all end soon.

4. Day Four: February 27, Sunday

We are worried about food and money, though we have reserves at home. Vitalik and I decide to scout out the area towards gate 8 on foot. No public transport is available. The shops on Levchenko are open. "Shchedraya Lavka" is closed. And it's the same further on. ATMs are empty. On Pokryshkina, nothing works except for one pharmacy and a bakery, where there are queues. We see a few people rushing about the avenue, mainly searching for cash at ATMs, and so we return home empty-handed.
On the way back, a tank sped past us, the noise was deafening. We went into "Polyus," with some cash we had. We bought crackers with raisins and waffles.
The siren started. I’ve never been so frightened before. Vitalik walks calmly, I run. My heart is burning. At home is Nadya (daughter). When I reached the apartment, she wasn't there. She was in the basement with the animals.

5. Day Five: February 28, Monday

It’s Vitalik’s birthday. Shooting starts early in the morning. We celebrated! Had fried potatoes for breakfast.
Each day is getting worse. But we have electricity and water, while other areas don’t. My mother has been without electricity since Thursday. Neighbors are helping her. She charges her phone at their place. We call each other, and she’s coping.
Today we sleep "between contractions." When I went to the maternity hospital to give birth to Nadya, the doctor, a sleepy plump woman, said, "Sleep between contractions." I don’t even remember her face, but the phrase became iconic. That’s how we sleep now, between the explosions.

6. Day Six: March 1, Tuesday

Spring! The restaurant for March 8th was booked :))) And nothing foreshadows trouble.  Is there really so little space for us all on this earth?!?! Why is it like this? Thank you, you scum (refers to Putin), for one thing: you have united us like never before!
Honestly, I don’t remember much of this day until the evening. The bombings were almost constant. Neighbors came over. At three in the morning, I went back to the apartment - I couldn’t take it anymore. I want to sleep in a bed. The three of us sleep in Nadya’s room, along with the dog and three cats. The apartment is freezing, the heating was turned off on the first day.

7. Day Seven: March 2, Wednesday

The shelling continues all day long. We are incredibly tired. Vitalik is giving up. Nadya (daughter) is holding up well. We’re gradually moving into the bargaining stage; it’s about time. The denial phase was probably very prolonged. It feels like today is not the seventh day of this hell, but the thousandth! And it's the same for everyone. At 19:47, Vitalik began to smile. That makes me happy. He is very weak. I brought “The Master and Margarita.” Alexey and I read it aloud, taking turns. My throat is dry…

*****

33 days until the end of Katya’s life.
27 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

8. Day Eight: March 3, 2022, Thursday

Yesterday was still "paradise". Each day is worse than the last. Terrifying! Very! It's impossible to comprehend what is happening.

No connection. Vodafone is barely working, but only outside. But it’s scary to go out. I only managed to contact my sister. By a miracle. In the morning, we spoke normally, but the second time, the connection was cut off. My sister is crying. In their city (Nikopol), it’s still okay, only sirens wailing. No contact with mom for two days. We don’t know who is alive. We don’t know anything... The city is completely cut off.

Today they turned off electricity and water. Gas is still available. My daughter and I wanted to go to the market to buy some long-lasting food products, cigarettes. Vitalik  and Lesha are staying in the kitchen, not planning to come with us. This annoys me. Lord! How fortunate we are that we didn't wander far from home! Olya screams from the entrance: "Don’t go anywhere!". Whistling overhead! Noise! Something fell nearby. Explosion. Scary. We ran home. My heart is pounding. Very scary! We are sitting in the basement all together. Neighbors Olya and Vadik, Lesha, and us. Yura, a neighbor from the street, comes by. He really likes to wander the streets, the oddball. Uncle Sasha from the second floor doesn’t come down. Olya from the second floor is probably at her mother’s in a private house. Haven’t seen her once. Occasionally, we go up to the apartment to heat water for tea or use the toilet.

The scariest thing is that we are in complete incomprehension of what’s happening. With each day, with each explosion, all the organs inside the body shake like in a shaker, more and more intensely.

I am photographing our cats for history. I hope, no - I believe that this will end, and I will make a collage about it.

We affixed religious icons to the door.

Today it snows. Falling from the sky in such huge white flakes. Slowly, slowly. Like a fairy tale. We placed buckets at the entrance for snow. There will be water in case of an emergency.

I'll try to contact my sister again.

*******

32 days until the end of Katya’s life.

26 days until the end of her husband Vitaliy's life.

9. Day Nine: March 4, 2022, Friday                   

The stores on Levchenko have been looted. Apparently, the lower strata of society smashed the windows, and then the chaos ensued… People cleared out all the food (well, that's okay) and anything else they could grab. Grocery stores, "Everything from Five," "Photo Studio," the fishing store, "Dnipro M," among others, were plundered. The guys went to see. My only request was not to take anything unless it was absolutely necessary. But they still brought back all sorts of junk. There’s no need to stoop so low!

Olya and I went to the courtyard where the bomb shelter is. Managed to get a pack of cigarettes. The police brought a whole box.

We have food. But what to do when the refrigerator defrosts?

I have contact with my sister. It's a miracle! All information comes through her. The only regions untouched are Dnipropetrovsk, Poltava, and the Western regions. My friends from Moscow are losing their minds. They write such letters to her on Facebook that it's hard to believe sane people can think this way. She maintains contact with her sister Natasha from Zaporizhzhya region, and with Nadya, a neighbor who by chance was in Kyiv at her son's place. She managed to move to Ivano-Frankivsk. Also, with Ruslan, our friend who, by coincidence, went to Lviv for his honeymoon just before the events, and with Galya, Vitalik's sister, who is also somewhere in the West, while her parents are in Kyiv. Nothing is known about their mother. I'm terrified to go, although I constantly try to convince myself to take the step. I’m scared because of Nadya (daughter)…
Veronika came to visit under gunfire. My little hero!!! I burst into tears, but she’s a tough cookie! Always cheerful, just as always. Nika brought us a bag of groceries. We walked her back. For the first time, I stepped beyond my own courtyard.

*******

31 days until the end of Katya’s life.

25 days until the end of her husband Vitaliy's life.

10. Day Ten: March 5, 2022, Saturday

In the morning, I immediately called my sister. She's like a ray of light. For me and for many people.
Standing in the yard with neighbors, and then a huge miracle! I see Dima and Natasha! I've never been so happy to see anyone! They brought food. They said everything was okay with our mother. What a relief… Tried to call my sister, but couldn't get through.
Nika came again. They were planning to leave via the green corridor. But we later learned that they didn’t succeed.
Dima and Natasha left, and through them, I sent a note to my mother with information about Nadya-sister, about the situation, and about her relatives in Enerhodar. They promised to come back in a few days. But in this hellish cauldron, we live by the day, no, probably by the moment.
There are flashes of anger. But I never moved out of the bargaining stage.

*******

30 days until the end of Katya’s life.

24 days until the end of her husband Vitaliy's life.

11. Day Eleven: March 6, 2022, Sunday

The night was very restless. The shooting didn't stop. In the morning, real Armageddon began. The entire city's infrastructure is destroyed, residential buildings are ruined, people have died... Who will be held accountable for all this? 

Veronika (niece) and her mother are trying to leave again.
No communication at all.

Food is being distributed on the streets - humanitarian aid, all meat products that have nowhere to be stored.  Having crossed the stage of anger, I imperceptibly move into the stage of despair and acceptance... This is truly the most terrifying.

My dear sister, there's a hole inside me, probably much larger than yours! I can only mentally send you these words, my dear.
Every night before sleeping, I mentally list everyone I know, sincerely hoping that they will all stay alive.

In the evening, the gas is cut off.
No communication all day.
The last two comforts were taken away…

We try to sleep in the basement, but I can't endure it for long, so I go up to the apartment, lying down in boots and two jackets. My pockets are always stuffed: a flashlight, phone, cigarettes, matches, and other essentials are constantly with me. I managed to sleep for a while during the night. My whole body aches.

12. Day Twelve: March 7, 2022, Sunday

Bombing since four in the morning, but far away. I get up, trying to catch a signal. My sister must have gone crazy by now, the only ray of light is gone. I wash my face, brush my teeth every other day to save water. Bathing or washing my hair is beyond consideration. Once we took such ordinary things for granted…

Olya and I decide to go to Veronika's, intending to give her the phone numbers of our relatives. With God's help, they will manage to escape the city today.

There's light snow outside... Time for the field kitchen. We cook borscht on firewood, heat water, and prepare chicken breast on the grill. By the way, all this cooking happens during breaks between explosions, with whistling overhead, we manage to run into the basement at the speed of sound. An explosion! Very close!

Aunt Valya, our neighbor, has passed away; she was paralyzed a few days before the war. It's heart-wrenching to look at her husband.

We set up a wooden board at the entrance. We will chalk  the dates, days of the week, and days since the war started. People's phones are dead, we begin to lose track of time…

Men moved Aunt Valya’s body to the shed. Another woman died close to us.
Shooting from our side during the night. The morning is quiet. Around 10 a.m the shelling starts. These conclusions are made empirically.

To be honest, I'm no longer sure that the stages of information perception are accurate. There are many more! Dear great minds, you will have to rewrite the books on psychology! I want to tell you one thing: we will not allow the stage of despair to come!!! We are children of this Earth. We love our Earth. We will live. We will live on it and for its good! No matter what. Let this life, without water, electricity, gas, dirty and tired, become our usual life, just don't shoot! Our wonderful, talented children deserve none of this! For them, we are ready for everything: to be torn to pieces, beaten to death with sticks, to bite, to fight hand-to-hand with bare hands, and to scream to the whole planet:

We are people! We will live!

Yesterday, Veronika read the poem "Meni trynadtsyaty mynalo" by T. G. Shevchenko… My little hero…

In the evening, we sit in the basement.
Tomorrow is March 8th. Olya’s crocuses have bloomed.

28 days until the end of Katya’s life.
22 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

13. Day Thirteen: March 8, 2022, Tuesday

The night was quiet. Or perhaps we have grown accustomed to the sounds alien to our normal life... Today's menu includes fried potatoes and fish, cooked on a campfire.

On the holiday, the men offered their congratulations. Vitalik kissed and embraced me in a way he never had throughout our shared life, presenting gifts of a "Marengo" bottle and waffles for Nadyusha. Alexey brought chocolate drops for cakes. Yura congratulated us with a cake, which he most likely "swiped" from a looted store. Unfortunately, it turned out to be spoiled. We so wanted to share it with all the female neighbors! But let this be our biggest disappointment.  And, I had a bottle of champagne stashed away!

Overnight, snow fell. It is beautiful! Snowdrops peeking through the snow! A true Women's Day! Now, as the snow melts, we're collecting water.

There's no information about Veronika (my niece). Did they leave? We unanimously decided that if she didn't return by evening, they likely managed to break through. God protect them!

Arthur, Uncle Sasha's nephew, came by. He was at the settlement and saw my mother yesterday. This is very good news. Thank you to all the heroes who move around the city and bring news. God protect you!

There is a wood storage between the 1st and 2nd floors. We had to bring all the wood inside because people around started to dismantle wooden roofs.

Joy in the simplest of things, unimaginable to anyone before. All material concerns have receded into the background.

The most wonderful gift for us, women, was a bath day. The men drained water from the heating system, heated it in buckets on the grill, and we, oh miracle, bathed in icy bathrooms! Clean hair, fragrant with shampoo, was more beautiful than all the flowers in the world!

****

27 days until the end of Katya’s life.
21 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

14. Day fourteen: March 9, 2022, Wednesday

Somewhere high up in the sky, there probably remains the last drop, ready to fall on my head… I don’t know where to find the strength to hold it, to prevent it from dissolving and despairing. I try my hardest to hold on! It’s scary that I stop thinking about my mother, sister, and other people because there’s no time to think about them, and not knowing anything about them changes nothing.
A shell fell somewhere very close. According to uncle Vitya Goncharov, it hit the surgery department and a residential building.  How much more destruction and death are needed?

Today is my father's birthday. How are they doing? We last heard of them when we still had a connection. Then he was still going to work, despite the bullets.

The extent of the destruction in the city is unknown. In my, our,  Hero City!

Everyone has been irritable since the morning. Everyone here has become disabled for the rest of their lives. The only question is how much of this we have left - this life?

My dear diary, every day I pray that the page I write on won’t turn over, for one simple reason - there’s nothing more to write.

12:50. An air strike is expected by noon. Informed by a neighbor from the first entrance. We wait… God, let it be untrue.

16:20. A shell hit our house. The roof, kitchen, Volkovs' apartment, and one of our windows were damaged. Uncle Sasha is alive. Cleared the debris until dark. There was a suspicion of fire. Firefighters checked. All is in order.
We hold on! Staying in the basement tonight.

20:00. Until now, I haven’t found the words to describe the HELL that has insidiously crept into our life!!! Even in the worst nightmare, it was impossible to imagine what happened today. A hellish machine sent a shell into our dwelling. Thanks to everyone who helped clear the rubble and extinguish the fire. Uncle is not wounded, a friend in the neighboring yard took him in. Guys will cover the hole in the roof tomorrow. They are real heroes! You know, I’m incredibly relieved now that there’s no communication, and none of the close ones - neither sister, nor mother, nor father, nor aunt Nadya Volkova know about the nightmare that happened today.
Men are holding up bravely. Nadyusha is planning for the future. Says she’ll do kitchen repairs for uncle Sasha.

Noise, dust, the house roof blew off across the courtyard perimeter, bricks debris, a shell in uncle Sasha’s kitchen, smoke, a sea of people, panic, fear…

Among melted candles and evening prayers,

Amidst military trophies and peaceful bonfires,

Lived book-loving children, unaware of battles,

Wasting away from their own minor catastrophes.

They lived and did not understand that they were happy.

****

26 days until the end of Katya's life.
20 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

15. Day Fifteen: March 10, 2022, Thursday

Last night was the first one spent entirely in the basement. Only fearless Vitalik went up to the apartment to sleep for a while. Nadya, Olya, Vadik, Yura, and I stayed in the basement all night. The fourteenth day of the war (which we so hoped would be the last) brought real disaster to our home. There’s practically no roof left on our side and uncle Sasha’s kitchen has a hole through to the sky. We used to thank nature for rain and snow; now we hope for neither. We used almost all our water to put out the fire. We managed on our own without help, thanks to the fire being small. Otherwise, the firefighters who arrived would have flooded our apartment.

Olya is sorting through various junk in the basement, amusing me with her jars, asking which to throw away and which to keep. I myself have more than enough of such stuff. Ironically, what we wanted to throw away is now coming in handy. How I fretted over Vitalik collecting various sticks and other junk. But now, the guys have gathered firewood on the platform, and it warms the soul (it was at that moment).

We made beds in our basement and the corridor out of chairs and an old door. It turned out great!

The men made a lamp; now it’s like daylight for us: a car battery + LED strip. A constant struggle for survival. Just hoping no more shells come.  If only no more shells would come. Heavy artillery is firing, aircraft are bombing, and there are exchanges of gunfire from rifles and machine guns. Films about World War II seem like cartoons now. We will probably remain forever in the first stage. We see everything with our own eyes, our hearts ache, torn apart along with the homes and people. Yet, no one has been able to truly believe in this hell so far.

Uncle Sasha went to his apartment. I don’t know what he does there. Probably ripping apart what's left of his heart.

Sveta's brother Andrey came by bike. Brought a message from her. They are all safe and everything is intact. Only there is no news from Genchik.

Olya says, “We live like hobos.” No, we’ll start living like that when the water runs out…

Nika came with her cousin Dima, Ira, and Kostya. They really cheered us up! Ira apparently has an endless supply of alcohol. :)

Sasha Chalenko told us that in his building (a four-story one on Semashko street) a girl gave birth to a baby in hospital #3. A shell hit it, she was injured by the glass, and the police with the Red Cross took her home. They treated her wounds on-site, and the baby is fine. A great miracle! New life!…

Nadyusha made tea for everyone. Uncle Vitya came, and she offered him a cup of the hot drink. Oh, the gratitude and happiness of that old man... He suffers greatly from not being able to bury his wife, from not being able to wash her and dress her in her favorite dress. It's simply a nightmare - all these things that I’m trying to briefly describe.

Nadyusha drew a calendar for March, and we hung it up. Today is March 10, the 15th day of the war...

Serezha, one of the heroes of our time, told us how much food costs: 1,000 UAH for 1kg of flour. No need to say more... Besides, all our money remains in the PUMB bank. My husband Vitalik dreamed of buying a car. A golden dream.

1,170 civilians during the period of the great Russian "liberation" or the insane hellish game of the mad Putin. That's just in Mariupol! The hero messenger said that the Emergency Services and volunteers knelt before the military on the left bank, begging to be allowed to rescue people from the rubble, but they were not allowed. A card game of mad people.

20:44 If only to eat some fruit! Yurka brought icy apples, Vitalik is warming one for Nadyusha under his coat.

********

25 days until the end of Katya's life.
19 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

16.Day Sixteen: March 11, 2022, Friday

It's cold. The frost is getting stronger. It's warmer in the basement than in the apartment. Sleeping is impossible for two reasons: either you shudder from the explosions or you freeze to the point of rigidity, despite wearing more clothes than my own weight…

Vadik is heating a mug of water on a solid fuel stove. Nadyusha sleeps in the basement. I’m making Naidochka to warm her feet. Olya is wrestling with Chester. Vitalik is sleeping in the apartment with Podrick.?  7:18 my feet were frozen  12-19, they finally warmed up. We had breakfast. The enemy plane keeps circling above us. The explosions, which we constantly hear, are becoming more familiar.

Sveta's brother brought a note from her and some vegetables. Sveta's brother brought a note from her and some vegetables. Such grand gestures truly warm the heart, coming from wonderful people who risk bullets to deliver messages to others.  Andriusha Lukash rode his bicycle around the neighborhood looking for food for his dog. He wanted to move his mother and sister to my mom's place, but they refused. He has changed a lot in appearance, and so have we all...

Looking at myself in the mirror, I see an eighty-year-old woman.

I want to say that all of us here in besieged Mariupol are heroes in our own way: some bring news, others bravely visit their loved ones under gunfire, procure food and water, support the desperate, roam around the area trying to catch a signal on their mobile phone screens to call loved once, prepare hot meals, risking their lives. This is true heroism… not the senseless shooting on someone’s demented orders. In people's hearts, there are holes so large that not even the most magical threads can mend them.  Curse this war!!!

At 15:24, we were very cold, especially Nadya. I rubbed her legs with my hands. I heated water on Oleg's grill, poured it into bottles, and wrapped Nadya with them. I hope it warms her up. I started coughing. Some vodka with lemon would be good. Yura brought it.  I pour about 100 grams, drink it, and realize I've ingested some kind of poison. It turned out to be medical alcohol! I thought everything inside would burn out!  But it doesn’t matter, the important thing is that I felt warm, as if on a sunny summer day at the beach. What a relief!

At 17:13, I was washing dishes when there was a shout in the hallway! “Vitaly”! I got scared. But it turned out to be Sasha Kaurtaev! He brought two packs of cigarettes. Dimka was with him. They cheered us up greatly again! The whole family, as if chosen especially. They bring us back to normal life. Dimka also keeps a diary (he’s 25 years old). Amazing. We'll publish a book together :)

Sasha came with the latest news. Two houses were completely burned down in Sadki in front of his eyes. A nine-story building burned down in the settlement of Ukraine.

****

24 days until the end of Katya's life.

18 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

17. Day Seventeen: March 12, 2022, Saturday

The night was relatively quiet. Dawn broke, and I went up to our apartment where Vitalik was sleeping. I snuggled next to him under a makeshift tent of blankets and felt a sense of peace I hadn’t experienced at all these days. Shortly afterward, the bombing started again, this time very close by. Apparently, two shells fell - one in Sasha's street house and near Sveta's. It’s unknown if there are any victims.

Dima and Natasha visited us again! They also went to see my mother. She was planning to come to us! Poor thing, she is completely exhausted and worried. Her already troubling hypertension now bothers her even more. Does she have her medicine? Thank God they arrived in time, and she didn't set out on the road! My fearless mom passed on food, a huge jar of hot borscht, and much more. I wrote her a note, and I didn't describe any events; Dima and Natasha will tell her without me. I just said "Thank you" and asked for forgiveness.

We heated the kettle at Oleg Skudar’s place; people came to his wife Natasha. They said the city center is destroyed. Our wonderful city is destroyed by unknown forces and for unknown reasons! For what purpose is everything destroyed, and people are dying?!?!

Arthur and Lyuba were looking for Uncle Sasha; we told them where he is now.

Vadim and Vitalik climbed up to the attic, placed sheets of slate over the hole. It was heroic! The photos taken by Vadim from above showed me the extent of the destruction.
I live by one thing: I hope that everything, even the most terrible, eventually comes to an end…

…I'm in my bed. No one is shooting. The child sleeps in her room. She has to go to the institute in the morning. Beside me is my husband Vitalik, warm and very loved. And we fall asleep simultaneously… We dream the same dream, as long as our life together, all our good and bad moments, even the arguments. But we are very happy in this dream. So happy that we never want to wake up…

******

23 days until the end of Katya's life.
17 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

18. Day Eighteen: March 13, 2022, Sunday

Throughout the night and morning, the relentless bombing from planes, artillery, and unidentifiable guns persisted. We flinched at every sound! The night and the first half of the day passed in a sort of madness. I can hardly remember anything clearly. The only thing I can say is that going to the bathroom in the apartment (and not to a toilet but to a stinking bucket) at the speed of sound was incredibly difficult. It took so long to take off and put on clothes, fearing that we might have to run out of the apartment butt-naked.

Serezha came by. He had been to the city center, or rather, what was left of it. He described the horrors he saw with his own eyes. It was most horrible for Vadik to hear: his mother and relatives are there, and he has known nothing about them all this time.

The second half of the day was relatively quiet (although we've eliminated that word from our vocabulary). Managed to heat the kettle a few times. Ate my mom's borscht.

18:40 Yura is a magician. Whatever you might want, just think about it, and there's Yura, pulling the desired item from his magic pocket: cream for coffee, chips, fruits.

Sasha Chalenko came by, a person who can lift spirits, after whom the world seems warmer and cozier, thoroughly permeated with war and misery.

Saw Sveta Zavodina today. She lives in a shelter with her mother and son. I asked about Ana. She knows nothing.

***

22 days until the end of Katya’s life.

16 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

19. Day Nineteen: March 14, 2022, Monday

I slept for a long time… My lower back, leg, and all of the right side are aching. I suffered through the night, although it was quiet, and fell into a deep sleep towards morning. Everyone else had already gotten up. Olya cooked buckwheat. I even heard Nadya’s voice through my sleep, but I couldn’t get up.

We stood in a long line at "Lyubava" for groceries. Dima and Natasha came. In the queue, I saw Zhenya Karachevtsev, our neighbor from p. Ukraine, where we used to live. How joyful it is to see familiar faces!

Vita gave me 200 UAH (about $6). I didn’t want to take it, but she insisted: “I’m lending it to you.” And then I realized she really wants to meet again. For 180 UAH, I got 1 kg of sugar, 3 kg of flour, and 1 kg of buckwheat. For Vitalik - 2 kg of flour, 1 kg of sugar, and 1 kg of rice for 170 UAH. Tomorrow we will take our place in line at 6 AM. I want to send some to my mother.

Andrey, our godfather, came by bike. He traveled from the city center. Horrible! The center is destroyed! By bombers! The settlement of Volonterovka is destroyed, literally wiped off the face of the earth! Eastern and Left Bank as well! On the Left Bank, they dug a mass grave and are dumping bodies there. This is something unimaginable!

Lesha brought me an MDF board. He asked me to make a gravestone for Aunt Valya. I did my best under the circumstances. It turned out beautifully. Maybe Uncle Vitya will be a bit happy...

Vadik found Nadya a small-sized, brand new work suit. We cut off the reflective strips and dressed her in it. She looks so funny and yet so grown-up, my girl. It feels like I’ve slept through a part of life and my child has grown up so much. So wise, strong, instantly became an adult, my little one.

My dear sister! How are you, my dear? Just don’t go crazy, I beg you! We are alive and will live for the sake of children, for relatives! And we will definitely meet!

***

21 days until the end of Katya’s life.

15 days until the end of Vitalik's  life.

20. Day Twenty: March 15, 2022, Tuesday

Spring is in full bloom, despite the war... Today I saw the buds of yellow crocuses and tasty buds on roses. The houseplants are quietly dying. It's very cold for them. Only the kalanchoe delights with its bloom. It's about +5 degrees inside the apartment.

In the morning, we collected water from the heating system for the entire yard. I lit a fire, heated water, and fried sausage. I even managed to wash myself. Incredible! But I had to dress very quickly because the artillery lit up and explosions were heard very close by. With wet hair, I ran to the basement.

In the morning, while I was still asleep, Andriy Lukash came by. He had somehow found "Maria" cookies and shared them with his goddaughter, our Nadya.

Dima was caught in the crossfire. We were terrified when he came to us to recount the incident.

Vitalik went to the looted offices at the factory. Miraculously, he managed to bring home 15 first-aid kits, very well-equipped and all usable. A truly heroic act. Tomorrow we will share with the neighbors.

But overall, everything is bad.
The city is being destroyed more and more!
More and more people are dying!

My beloved flowering city! Beautiful, modern, adorned with an amazing sea, plants and animals, strong infrastructure, and kind people. How could anyone dare to destroy all this due to the foolish, inhumane ambitions of a mad antichrist!

Merciful Lord,
Save and Protect Ukraine!

P.S. I no longer check for communications. Forgive me, my dear sister.

*****

20 days left until the end of her life.
14 days left until the end of her husband's life.

21. Day twenty-first: March 16, 2022, Wednesday

It was relatively quiet all day. Could it all be over? Or is this the beginning of the end?

Today we buried aunt Valya. None of the men dared to go to the cemetery, so it was unanimously decided to bury her in the yard. How awful! The men dug a grave. We managed to get a coffin. All the neighbors gathered in the yard to bid farewell to this wonderful woman, born and died during wartime. May her soul rest in peace!

Olya and I went to the Kaurtaevs, hoping to find out where to get cigarettes and charge our gadgets. They are sitting on their suitcases, wanting to leave, but it’s completely unknown whether it’s feasible. On the way back, we stopped by Anna Yevtushenko’s. I called her, knocked on the gate, but no one came out. Their yard was in disarray, most likely they had gone somewhere. On the way, we met Artem Buchin, Nadyushka's friend. The boy, always friendly and sunny, has aged beyond his years. He didn’t recognize me. Perhaps I was right about the 80-year-old grandmother. God bless you, child!

My dear sister! If only you knew how we live, how much horror each resident of our city and other cities of our beautiful country has to endure! If only you could see the destroyed city, so dear and beloved!

If only you heard the sounds of bursting shells, hitting homes and human lives! If only you saw the abandoned animals with their empty, hopeless eyes! Do you hear the groan of the Earth? Do you hear the groans of people: children, elders, men and women, mothers with babies?

I don’t tire of sending you SMSs, which don’t reach you. I don’t tire of believing that we all will survive so that our descendants may know what truly happened in Ukraine in 2022.

If you hear me and the cries of frightened people, strong and weak, those who have not lost hope and those who have despaired, your heart would already have shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Stop listening to me! Live! And don’t lose hope! We are alive! And we will definitely see each other when the war ends, and we will rejoice in the simplest things: silence, the sun, the singing of birds, the smiles of loved ones, plain, simple food, water and the warmth from a fire, and peace. Wait, my dear, and our patience will be rewarded! Lord! Save and Protect! Amen!

****

19 days until the end of Katya's life.

13 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

22. Day Twenty-Two: March 17, 2022, Wednesday

It's cold. Snow. Frost. It's surprising that no one has fallen ill yet. I guess, the body has activated its reserves.

The day went by as usual. A normal day in "normal life." We are freezing, our legs and the whole body ache from the huge amount of clothing on each of us, from the endless running up and down, from the accumulated fatigue of the last 22 days.

Katya Golyshova and her friends arrived in an old, battered car with "Children" written on it.

They brought us a bag of flour, which they collected from the floor. God truly blessed us with good friends in this life.

I never made it to my mother’s... In the morning, I fried pancakes; in the afternoon, I cooked borscht for the whole group, and by evening, I wanted to stay at home. There was no shooting, and it felt so good and cozy, despite the apartment resembling a shed. I even managed to wipe the floor in Nadya’s room, the corridor, and the kitchen. The flowers are dying, and my heart bleeds. I don’t know if it was right or wrong, but I watered them with a bit of warm water and wiped their leaves with a damp cloth.

There’s no communication. No water. No heat. No electricity. And, most likely, we are beginning to get used to this chaos (despondency).

*****

18 days until the end of Katya’s life.

12 days until the end of Vitaliy's life.

23. Day Twenty-Three: March 18, 2022, Friday

War has the eyes of an evil monster.

People are going mad! Hunger! Fear! Despair!

If only we knew when this madness will end? We don't need any worldly luxuries!!! Just let us live in peace, without gunfire!!! My daughter and I will go to the spring, bring water, clean the apartment, bathe, and we will be insanely happy! We will all climb onto the roof, even Nadyusha, and repair it, and we will all together rebuild our beautiful city for our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Lord, save and protect!

I'm in the drama theater. We came to the theater with our child. She won a drawing competition about our city. Together, we drew a picture of our wonderful city and won tickets to the play. Fantastic! If only it were now! Even if the war ends now, there will be nothing left in our country, and our children will have no future. There is no theater in the city center, no good entertainment centers, no parks. Our mayor was trying hard to make our city even more beautiful, but it's all in vain now because everything has been destroyed by the hands of the devil.

I'm in my old apartment, where we used to live. We've just come from the maternity hospital, which can be seen from our kitchen window. I'm with my mother, sister, and husband. In my arms, I hold my newborn daughter - a new life. Everyone is busy and happy. A new meaning has come to our family's life. Outside, October plays with the bright colors of autumn…

Many Octobers have passed, and my daughter is almost twenty. It's March outside, frosty, with temperatures around -10 C, and it's almost always snowing.

It's bitterly cold. I can't recall such weather at this time of year. Everyone is preoccupied, but with entirely different concerns.  And there's no more happiness on their faces.

*****

17 days until the end of Katya’s life.

11 days until the end of Vitaliy's life.

24. Day Twenty-Four: March 19, 2022, Saturday

Uncle Sasha Volkov visits sometimes. Just this morning, he came, cried, and said that people from the church are supporting him. I can't even imagine what he feels, entering his home. He takes something and leaves again…

The day has come when people turned into monsters!!!  This was my biggest fear. Olya turned out to be the weakest link and was the first to cause a scene. The complaints were endless: caused a mess on the bench, cluttered the entire entrance, eating together was a bad idea, "where is my spoon?" and similar grievances. I feel very sorry for her... Surviving alone is extremely difficult.

She accused me of us apparently having eaten all their food, and now it turns out I've been taking things out bit by bit from under the floor and with a displeased expression, handed her two potatoes yesterday. Nonsense!

I don't even know who among them will go for water when they run out, if both are afraid to venture beyond their entrance. She called me a “rat.” God be her judge! Everything that our friends brought, I laid out on the common table. Why keep count now? The person has made her choice. And life will eventually put everything in its place. And everyone will get what they deserve for their actions. And me… I've already been through the wringer, so I can handle this too.

I want to say that today is probably the worst day, although deep down I knew this would happen sooner or later. It hurts. It hurts a lot. But the most important thing is my family, and I must endure much more for it to survive. Now, I'm taking deep breaths, exhaling, and calming down... I'm at home where I feel good and at peace. Nearby, Naidochka is clicking her claws, outside the window, the barking of dogs can be heard, the sun is shining, and it will always be like this. Lord! Save and protect everyone! And grant Olya more strength and wisdom than the rest.

I want to specifically mention the guys on the fire trucks. Truly real heroes! The "Talakivka" truck, with its shattered windows, regularly passes by our house, carrying men made of steel and granite; not a single muscle flinches on their faces. Amidst the relentless bombings, they perform their duty. A deep bow to you, great people!

Vitalik and I visit the Kaurtaevs, Irina, and Anya. The first ones are holding up fairly well. But Anyuta is completely disheartened; we had to cheer her up with whatever came to mind. "Don’t despair, my dear friend, you'll ride on your crane again, we'll work together again."

16 days until the end of Katya's life.

10 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

25. Day Twenty-Five: March 20, 2022, Sunday

Emotions are becoming scarce. Either we've become accustomed, or we are tired of being scarred, and the brain accepts the situation as a given. Desperation. There's no information on when this nightmare will finally end. And that's the most depressing part. People are becoming sadder, their faces are not the same as before, even though many still joke and smile. But these are different smiles. They resemble the grimaces of the insane, involuntarily committed to psychiatric hospitals. Yet, deep down, each of them is convinced of their sanity.

My close ones, my family, wonderful people, constantly fall apart, like houses of cards, they break down, go mad, despair. Their beautiful eyes grow dim. Brown, blue, gray. Once bright, with sparkles. Cheerful redhead Katya cries, and through the veil of tears, I can't see the color of her eyes. Hang on! Hold on to the end with all your might, my dear Katyusha!

I don't know if Alexey quoted or invented this phrase himself: "They can take everything from us: food, water, warmth, and much more. Even our lives. But they will never take away our Hope!"

____________________________________________
15 days until the end of Katya's life.

9 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

26. Day Twenty-Six: March 21, 2022, Monday

The city is destroyed! According to the existing data: from what we see ourselves and from the stories of people who have all without exception become incredibly close to us. I know what has survived, very little indeed: the Ilyichevsky and Primorsky districts are what remain. The Eastern and Left Bank areas have been reduced to ashes since the war's outset. Volonterovka and Ukraine are devastated, and the center, Kirova, and the 17-23 MKR areas are destroyed.  Mirny is on fire.

Our beautiful city is being leveled to the ground!!! Monsters! Who needs this? Why do they want our death? And who? We don’t understand anything!

My precious mom and dad, please live! Forgive me, my dear ones, for everything I did wrong! I kneel before you, kissing your feet and the ground you walk on. May God protect you!

My dear friends: Sergeyko Orlov, Oksanochka, Andriyko Lukash, Yana and Vitalik, Vita. Forgive me, I can’t even remember all of you right now. Please live! I beg the universe, I beg Mother Earth! Just stay alive!

My little daughter Nadiika!

Your father and I always wanted only the best for you, worked for you and your future. Forgive us for not being able to give you everything you deserve, my beauty, my smart girl. Believe, we are trying to survive only to pull you out of this hell, to peel off our skin, so you can have a future, a family, children, a good life. My enchanting girl, live and be happy!

****

14 days until the end of Katya’s life.

8 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

27. Day Twenty-Seven: March 22, 2022, Tuesday

I managed to "sleep" in the apartment for a while, but spent the rest of the time sleeping on top of the door in the basement.  Each new day is harder: constant sleep deprivation, endless movement in inhumane conditions, cooking under the looming shells and explosions... My legs hurt terribly, my knees feel like they are turned inside out, and my hands are covered in wounds from the cold, dirt, and washing dishes in cold water. We manage to bathe partially about once every 4-5 days, and my head itches. We have to conserve water. And bathing in the cold is unbearable.

Today, I visited Uncle Sasha Volkov's apartment. He left us the keys. Vitalik and I cleared some bricks, stacking them in the hallway to make it a bit easier for him to get home. I removed a shell from the apartment, not wanting it to be there. Tomorrow, it will need to be taken out of the building.

Yesterday, Vitalik Lyubarskiy arrived on a children's bicycle. He’s completely changed! So serious now. He speaks much better. I understand every word he says. He told about how his and Yana's apartment was damaged in the first days. Yana stayed with her mother, Aunt Lusya, at her house, while Vitalik crawled half a day to his mother Irina, who lives not far from us. He came again today. He says he was at Yana's in the morning, bringing her water. Now a shell has hit Aunt Lusya's apartment. Vitalik is now a real little fighter on his small bicycle.

Sasha Chalenko came by... We drank coffee. But suddenly, an explosion occurred nearby, black smoke from Sasha's house. I will never forget his face! Thankfully, the shell fell between his house and the neighbor's, only breaking windows. No casualties.

We spent half the day fetching water. We spent half the day fetching water. Vitalik miraculously found that there was still water in the boilers at his workplace's "Equipment Department." We managed to bring home about 100 liters. . Draining it through a thin tube took a very long time.

Managed to buy 5 packs of cigarettes for 100 hryvnias each.

Veronica, Ira, Kostya, Sasha, Lena, Marina, Dimka, Slavik, and some elderly woman left yesterday. Their house had its windows blown out. Tomorrow we need to go: to hide or take their valuable things to our place. Ira asked for it. God willing, everything worked out for them, and they safely reached Melekino.

A plane circles overhead, dropping deadly missiles on our beloved city, into our homes, and into our hearts. We sit in the basement. Yurka brought apples. Probably the tastiest I've ever eaten. Everyone is exhausted to the point of collapse, faces have turned pale, eyes are full of fear and despair, but we are alive, and a tiny spark of hope still lives within us, in our wounded hearts.

Goodnight, my dear mother Ukraine!

Our enemies will perish,

Like dew in the sun.

And we shall prevail, brothers,

In our own land.

13 days until the end of Katya's life.

7 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

28. Day Twenty-Eight: March 23, 2022, Wednesday

The planes are bombing…

We're preparing breakfast: the two-day-old hot soup.

We clean up the shed. It has never been this clean before. We spend half the day on this. The second half of the day is spent at Veronika’s. They have been gone for three days. We boarded up the windows, cleaned up the trash, and gathered some food. Ira asked to take the TV. We carried everything home twice. We will visit once a day if possible.

Found a bottle of wine in the shed, poured a liter into a jar. Very tasty. Found fresh vegetables in their fridge: Chinese cabbage, white cabbage, parsley, lettuce leaves. I made myself a divine salad. All instincts remain at the level of animal survival.

Today, godfather Andrey visited. He brought a message from my mother. I passed the medical kits to my mother, mother-in-law, and godfather. The Petrenko family left. Apparently, Dima killed all his pigeons and gave him one already cooked. We didn’t eat it. Horrible! Andrey said he got through to Nadya’s sister. Miracle!

I washed myself. Partially. Washed my hair. In the water I bathed in, I managed to wash some clothes.

Another terrible day… We've come to terms with it. Just don't shoot! I want to say that our reactions to shots and explosions have completely dulled. We go about our usual tasks. There's always something that needs to be done. That's what my aunt Masha used to say. And so we do, life goes on, we can't just give up, especially with our children depending on us.

Good night, my dear ones, my precious people, and all the people of our extraordinary Ukraine! Live!

12 days until the end of Katya's life.

6 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

29. Day Twenty-Nine: March 24, 2022, Thursday

19:23. Another day is drawing to a close - the twenty-ninth since the war began. Everyone here in this hell behaves differently: some are still scared of every noise, just like in the early days; some have resigned themselves; others see it as a payment for all their sins and those of humanity; many have calmed down and are keeping themselves  busy with their daily lives. Some are trying to escape the city to start anew elsewhere. We, after a family council, decided not to leave hastily, to wait until the shooting stops, and then make decisions based on the circumstances. That the city has no future for a decade is an undeniable fact. People who have been to other areas describe the scale of destruction, which is simply horrifying.

We spent the morning at Ira's house, tidying up the kitchen. Vitalik was boarding up windows again. The air raids continued. We cooked during the day: borscht and barley porridge. Vitalik Lyubarsky came again on his bicycle, trying to get to Yana, but the Ukrainian soldiers did not let him through.

Sergey and Kristina have been living with us, or rather, in Olya and Vadik’s apartment, for several days now. Kristina is crying.

I heard that people are leaving the water treatment facility and the firefighters from the State Emergency Service are also leaving. This is very bad. Seeing these fearless men made me feel much better, as if there was some protection nearby.

We are tired and worn out. Ordinary people, innocent, hardworking, just wanting to live a simple life.

Tomorrow is the thirtieth day. Is that a lot or a little? No one knows the answer. Every evening, going to bed, we sincerely believe that in the morning there will be no more planes dropping missiles, no more guns firing deadly shells, and everything familiar will return, and all this nightmare will turn out to be a terrible dream.

_______________________________________________

11 days until the end of Katya's life.

5 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

30. Day thirty: March 25, 2022, Friday

19:35. Out of 400 people who were in the Hydrotherapy Center, only 26 remain today. The rest have left in a column either to the 17th District or beyond the city limits. Rumor has it that in the 17th District, the DNR is distributing food parcels and it is safer there. But there are plenty of rumors, including those that water and electricity were provided in the Eastern part. Uncle Vitya (81 years old) walked there today and saw with his own eyes that there was nothing but complete chaos and darkness, gunfire, and wounded people running.

Today, people left the shelter organized in Uncle Sasha Chalenko's yard and went to Talakovka.

Tomorrow there will be even fewer of us left. Oleg Skudar and his family are leaving for Novoalekseyevka. They have a summer house there. Chalenko is evacuating his family - 10 people in two cars to the village of Zeleny Yar. He came to "say goodbye." He said - we will return at the first opportunity.

Olya and Vadik want to move to the 17th District. Vadik's mother and brother are there. But I'm not sure they will decide to actually go there on foot.

What unit of measurement can truly quantify human sorrow?

How many human tears have been shed - they can’t even compare to the amount of water in the World Ocean.

How to measure the distance to God, to whom millions of impoverished people send their pleas?

Is there a name for the inhumanity of the person who started this senseless bloody war, crippling so many lives?

If only we knew whom to ask? If only we knew who will answer for all the suffering of my people, for the broken spirit and unbearable despair?

The red "Talakovka" car, which provided some hope, no longer comes. We no longer see the broken windows of the iron boys in firefighter uniforms. They too have left the city. The time of mass panic has come. Many have run out of food. Others can no longer bear the terrible explosions, fearing for themselves and their little children. And they flee from one abyss to another. And in this endless chaos, everyone makes their choice.

10 days until the end of Katya's life.

4 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

31. Day thirty-first: March 26, 2022, Saturday

The morning was unbearably terrible!!! A deadly missile fell on Veronika's street (niece). A crater about 5 meters deep and the diameter of our apartment. The house next to Veronika's is destroyed. One woman died. I cannot describe the horror I felt. Uncle Sasha's relatives are planning to leave.

Many people left the city today. This fact "completely shattered" us. I saw Vitalik so devastated today for the first time during the war. Chalenko with his family, Oleg Skudar, and the Goncharovs left. A convoy of eight cars. The rest are walking towards the 17th District. Tired, desperate people move in groups, carrying some belongings, hoping to find some food and protection there. But it's all hearsay, whether it’s true or not, no one really knows. They need to take detours, risking getting caught in the shelling. That's how Sergey with his mother and brother went. We happened to meet. My dear ones are heading into the unknown, and we will stay here in our homes, in the same uncertainty. Sasha Shulika was shot somewhere near Mukhino. That's what Sergey said.

Everyday we live in hell. Every day brings us new trials, crippling our consciousness more and more. And there is no end in sight…

Tomorrow Olya and Vadik plan to leave. Our family will be the only one remaining in our apartment building.

Uncle Vitya sits on a bench at his little girl's grave. The sight is unbearable! We try to support him as much as possible. But, I think, all words here are superfluous, and there are simply no words at all... Only stone faces, empty eyes, calloused, cracked hands from dirt and cold, and wounded hearts, in which a tiny spark of Hope still glimmers.

******

9 days until the end of Katya's life.

3 days until the end of Vitaliy's life..

32. Day thirty-second: March 27, 2022, Sunday

You can choose everything in the world, my son. The only thing you cannot choose is your Motherland!

The next day. Just like the day before, terrible. New devastations, crippled lives, and destroyed homes. A shell hit near our house, blowing out the last windowpane in the far room.

We found bicycles in the Volkovs' garage. Nadiya and Vitalik went to visit Olya and Vitalik’s former colleague nearby. Their house was also damaged. Meanwhile, I was frying flatbreads on the fire, cleaning up branches and debris in the street.

Olya and Vadik couldn't go to the city center. The guide refused to lead the group. Waited for about two hours. Then everyone dispersed to their homes. Girls from the neighboring building tried to reach the food supplies but failed. Maybe that’s how it was meant to be.

Today, everyone is alive. And that's the most important thing. Waiting for the morning.

Many thoughts on political matters, but I don’t want to write about it. I just want to say one thing: I love my Motherland with all my heart, so wonderful and incredible. Its cities and villages, rivers and seas, sincere and kind people. And with all my heart, I hate those nonhumans who started the war against my country. And the people of this country became bloody meat, worth less than half a penny. In fact, human life is a mere trifle and nobody tells the truth.

My dear sister, I will survive to convey the truth to you and others. And that is my fate…

******

8 days left until the end of her life.

2 days left until the end of her husband's life.

33. Day thirty-three: March 28, 2022, Monday

Morning at Uncle Vitya’s yard. Drinking tea. Dimka arrived, tired and drunk. We decided to go with him to the settlement. Nadiya and I lead the way, Vitalik and Dimka are about a hundred meters behind us. At the fifth gate, a soldier nearly shot us. I was this scared for the second time in all 33 days. He ran, swearing loudly. Nadiya ordered to drop behind the hillock, while she, raising her hands, shouted, “Don’t shoot! Two women! We are visiting our mother! Haven’t seen her for a month.” “Papers!” he yelled. But we left without them. “Our house burned down. The documents too.” He approached closer. Very young. I fell into his chest, crying. He turned out to be Dimka's neighbor, a volunteer. His name is Artem. Thank God it ended this way. And we moved on. But the fear I experienced was indescribable: not for myself, but for my daughter.

Mom is holding up bravely! The roof was blown off, but Andrey and Dima repaired it. Saw Natasha, Kiryusha, and Grandma Valya. Everyone felt relieved. In our hearts, all the spring flowers blossomed. At the same time, they exuded the most beautiful scents, a hundred times better than the finest perfumes from the best houses in Paris.

The way back was not easier. There was a battle, bullets flew over our heads. We had to hide, duck, and crawl. But, having reached home, we took a deep breath and realized that we had achieved something!

The settlement of Ukraine is on fire!

Later, we went to Veronika’s. Everything is the same as before. Tried to find a network on the railway tracks near the market, but it didn't work out. Tried to find Katya Golyshova’s house, unsuccessfully. Vitalik, driven by curiosity, peered into every yard and every car. My nerves gave out, and I left him, going home to my daughter. He came back alive…

I'm at my parents' house. Mom and dad are young. I'm sitting like in a black-and-white photo, with a green apple in one hand and a wafer in the other. In a headscarf, pretty and carefree. Next to me is my father, dressed as he was in the seventies, handsome and curly-haired. My sister must have already been born. And mom is rocking her in her arms. The trees are green, the birds are singing. And a great future lies ahead.

My dear sister! We are alive, and mom is too. She, as always, is restless and fussy, running around, baking something. I saw her today!!! The boys, Andriy and Dmytro, repaired her roof, damaged by a shell that destroyed the neighbors' house.

I made soup from potatoes found in the trash. It was very bad, but I cooked it and everyone ate with pleasure. At the Volkovs', we found vegetables: beets, carrots, onions, pumpkin, cabbage. All in very poor condition. I sorted them out and tomorrow I will cook a vegetable salad. We'll leave the pumpkin for later. There was also a half-rotten quince. I trimmed it, cut it into small pieces, and covered it with sugar.

Sister, can you imagine the horror I am writing to you about? Can you imagine how we try to survive in this hell? How do I go to the garbage dumps and sift through the trash, looking for leftover vegetables to cook for the animals? Poor dogs and cats, which were already numerous without homes, are now ten times more. People leaving the town left them behind.

I've been trying to call you all day, but there is not a single line on the phone. Forgive me, my dear. We must hear from each other soon, I believe, and so do you. It can't be any other way.

***

Tomorrow Vitalik will die.

Katya will die in 6 days.

34. Day thirty-four: March 29, 2022, Tuesday

I've been sleeping in my daughter's bed for days now, my knees hurt terribly, and by the evening the pain is unbearable.

The shooting never completely stops. Bullets are even whizzing over our heads in the yard. If all this had happened on the first days, we would probably all have died from heart failure.

We want to go to Nika's to see how things are. We need to bring home water from their house, rainwater.

Today, I washed the floor, heated water from Sasha's barrel, and thoroughly bathed, from head to toe.

Sveta Zavodina’s nephew, a firefighter, allowed us to take two buckets of water from the fire station. Thank you, boy!

A family from the Mirny settlement passes by; they are trying to find humanitarian aid because they have four children and nothing to eat. I asked them, and they said Okanina Street is relatively calm.

At this point, the diary ends.

An explosion is heard in the yard. Vitaliy runs first to check if there is no fire.  Katya follows him.

And at that moment, the second explosion.

Vitalik dies instantly. Katya sustains severe injuries.

For a day, she will hide in the basement with her daughter. On March 30, she will be moved to hospital #1. Katya is on the 2nd floor. Nadya is in the basement. The daughter will go up to her mom. Give her water. Administer injections. There are no doctors left.

With her right uninjured hand, Katya writes in her phone, urging her daughter to save the diaries. On April 2nd, as a result of shelling, a fire broke out in the hospital. Suffering from fractures to her hip, shoulder, and jaw, Katya is immobile. She was caught up in fire  along with the hospital but managed to jump from the second-floor window, falling near the department's windows where her mother and mother-in-law eventually found her.

Before this ordeal, on April 1 or 2, Katya pens a note to her mother:

"Mom!
I am injured.
In hospital #1.
The doctors have all left.
My leg is broken, and my face is torn apart.
Vitalik has died.
Nadya is in the hospital's basement. Help!"

This note is later delivered to her mother by an unknown man from the Mirny settlement.

Mothers - Katya's and Vitaliy's - found Katya when they had almost given up hope and were on their way home. They find her concealed under a checkered bag, spotting her by mere chance.

Katya succumbs to her injuries and dies in her mother's arms on April 4, in the basement of their building.

The two women bury their children, Katya and Vitaliy, three times. The first time was in the nearby yard where they lived because russians bombed the area incessantly and it was too dangerous to go outside. The second time was at a cemetery near the area where they died, beside Kateryna’s mother. Then russians took over the area and occupied Mariupol. The occupiers later ordered the graves to be excavated and the bodies moved to the Starokrymske Cemetery outside the city, far from Kateryna’s mother’s house. This is now their final resting place.

The Savenko family now rests at the Starokrymsky cemetery, with Katya forever 42 and Vitaliy 47. Daughter Nadya and the grandmother survive, along with all their neighbors. In a final act of preservation, two notebooks of Katya's diary are secured by Lyudmila Petrivna, Katya Savenko’s mother.

День первый: 24 февраля 2022, четверг

Утро было совершенно обычным. Ничего не предвещало беды. Тяжелый подъем на работу. Ну а там началось! Затем женщин отпустили с работы. У напарницы началась истерика.

Я спокойно иду домой, вижу огромную очередь к банкоматам. Начинается паника. Но не у меня. Сметают продукты в магазинах. В охапках колбасы, вода, сумками несут хлеб. Бред, - думаю я. Смеюсь. Паника тупая. Мы пережили уже такое в 2014 году. Теперь мне стыдно за эти слова и мысли.

Звонок от мастера. На работу не выходим до особого распоряжения. «Катя, береги себя», - последние его слова по телефону. Затревожило…

Неужели нельзя было уже тогда понять?

День второй: 25 февраля 2022, пятница

Решаем с дочкой поехать в магазин. Транспорт по городу ходит бесплатно. Может, наличных удастся снять? Картой в наших магазинах расплатиться невозможно. В АТБ полупустые полки. Остались консервы, молочная продукция. В «Щиром куме» цены взвинчены. Я начинаю дуреть. Но покупаю кое-что.

Виталик на работе в первой смене на дежурстве.

День третий: 26 февраля, суббота

Выстрелы орудий слышны всё чаще.

Виталик заболел. Температура 38,4. Я уговариваю не идти на работу в ночную смену. Но он идет. Возвращается через пять минут. Завод на горячей консервации. Руководство сказало никому не выходить. Что происходит, я не понимаю до сих пор. Пока уверена, что вот-вот всё это закончится.

День четвертый: 27 февраля, воскресенье

Тревожимся. По поводу продуктов и денег. Хотя дома запасы есть. Решаемся с Виталиком сделать разведку в сторону 8-х ворот пешком. Транса не ходит. Магазины на Левченко работают. «Щедрая лавка» закрыта. И дальше тоже самое. Банкоматы пусты. На Покрышкина ничего не работает, кроме одной аптеки и хлебопекарни. Там очереди. Снуют по проспекту отдельные люди, в основном в поисках наличных в банкоматах. Так и пошли обратно ни с чем.

По пути на встречу промчался танк. Грохот сумасшедший. Зашли в «Полюс», было не ноль наличных, купили сухарики с изюмом и вафли.

Началась сирена. Мне еще никогда не было так страшно. Виталик идет спокойным шагом, я бегу! Сердце печет, дома Надя. Когда добежала в квартиру, ее там не оказалось. Вместе с животными она находилась в подвале.

День пятый: 28 февраля, понедельник

День рождения Виталика. С самого утра стрельба. Поздравили! Позавтракали жареной картошкой.

Каждый день становится все хуже. Но у нас есть электричество и вода. В других районах нет. У мамы нет электричества с четверга. Помогают соседи. Она заряжает у них телефон. Созваниваемся, у нее все штатно.

Сегодня спим «между схватками». Когда пришла в роддом рожать Надю, врач, сонная тучная женщина, говорила: «Сны между схватками». Я даже не помню ее лица, но фраза стала крылатой. Вот так мы и спим между взрывами.

День шестой: 1 марта, вторник

Весна! Ресторан на 8 Марта заказан :))) И ничего не предвещало беды. Неужели всем нам так мало места на этой земле?!?! Почему так? Спасибо тебе, тв*рь, за одно: ты сплотил нас как никогда!

Если честно, я этот день плохо помню до вечера. Бомбежки не прекращались практически. Пришли соседи. В три часа ночи я ушла в квартиру - сил больше не было. Я хочу спать в кровати. Спим втроем в Надиной комнате. С нами собака и три кота. В квартире холодина, отопление отключили в первый день.

День седьмой: 2 марта, среда

Целый день не прекращаются обстрелы. Устали до невозможности. Виталик сдаёт совсем. Надя (дочка) держится - молодец. Постепенно переходим в стадию торга, пора бы уже. Стадия отрицания, наверное, была очень затяжной. Такое впечатление, что сегодня не седьмой день этого ада, а тысячный! Причем у всех. 19:47 Виталик начал улыбаться. Меня это радует. Слаб он совсем. Принесла «Мастера и Маргариту». Читаем с Алексеем по ролям. Пересохло в горле…

Началась сирена. Мне ещё никогда не было так страшно. Виталик идет спокойным шагом, я бегу. Сердце печет. Дома Надя (дочка). Когда добежала до квартиры, ее там не оказалось. Вместе с животными она находилась в подвале.

День восьмой: 3 марта 2022, четверг

Вчера ещё был «рай». Каждый день по сравнению с предыдущим все хуже и хуже. Страшно! Очень! Невозможно уместить в голове то, что происходит.

Связи нет. Водафон еще немного проскакивает, но только на улице. Но туда выходить страшно. Созвониться удалость только с сестрой. Чудом. Утром говорили нормально, второй раз оборвалось. Сестра рыдает. У них в городе (Никополь) пока нормально, только воют сирены. С материю связи нет второй день. Мы не знаем, кто жив. Мы ничего не знаем… Город полностью отрезан.

Сегодня отключили электричество и воду. Газ пока есть. Хотели с дочей пойти всё-таки на рынок, купить каких-то продуктов длительного хранения, сигарет. Виталик с флешей на кухне, идти с нами не собираются. Меня это бесит. Господи! Как же нас угораздило не уйти далеко от дома! Оля кричит из подъезда: «Никуда не ходите!». Свист над головой! Грохот! Упало где-то рядом. Взрыв. Страшно. Мы бежим домой. Сердце колотится. Очень страшно! Сидим в подвале все вместе. Соседи Оля и Вадик, Лешка и мы. Приходит Юра, сосед по улице. Очень любит побродить по улицам чудак. Дядя Саша со второго этажа не спускается. Оля со второго этажа наверное у матери в частном доме. Ни разу ее не видели. Изредка поднимаемся в квартиру нагревать воду для чая или сходить в туалет.

Самое страшное, что мы в полном непонимании происходящего. С каждым днем, с каждым взрывом все органы внутри тела трясутся, как в болтанке, всё сильнее.

Я фотографирую наших котов для истории. Надеюсь, нет - верю, что всё закончится, и я сделаю коллаж об этом.

На двери приклеили иконки.

Сегодня снег. Такими огромными белыми хлопьями спускаются с неба. Медленно-медленно. Сказочно.

У подъезда поставили ведра для снега. Будет вода на экстренный случай.

Попробую ещё раз связаться с сестрой.

День девятый: 4 марта 2022, пятница

Магазины на Левченко разграблены. По-видимому, низшие слои общества повыбивали стекла, а потом понеслось… Люди разгребли все продукты (ну это ладно), и всё, что попадалось под руку. Разграблены продуктовые, «Всё от пяти», «Фотоателье», рыбацкий магазин, «Днепро М» и прочие. Ребята ходили посмотреть. Единственная просьба была у меня - не брать ничего, кроме того, что действительно необходимо. Но они всё равно принесли всякую дрянь. Не нужно опускаться до уровня ниже уровня!

Ходили с Олей во двор, где бомбоубежище. Удалось раздобыть блок сигарет. Полицейские привезли целый ящик.

Продукты к нас есть. Только что делать, когда разморозится холодильник?

С сестрой есть связь. Это просто чудо! Вся информация через неё. Из всех областей нетронутыми остались только Днепропетровская, Полтавская и Западные области. Друзья из Москвы могли с ума. Пишут ей в ФБ такие письма, что просто не верится, что здоровые люди могут так мыслить. Она поддерживает связь с сестрой Наташей из Запорожской области, т. Надей соседкой по случайному стечению обстоятельств оказавшейся в этот момент в Киеве у сына. Ей удалось переехать в Ивано-Франковск. С Русланом, нашим другом, который также случайно накануне событий уехал в свадебное путешествие во Львов. И с Галей, Виталика сестрой, которая тоже где-то на Западе, а родители ее в Киеве. О матери ничего не известно. Идти страшно, хотя я постоянно себя уговариваю решиться на этот шаг. Страшно из-за Нади (дочка)…

Под пулями пришла Вероника. Мой маленький герой!!! Я разревелась, а она - молодчинка! Не падает духом, такая же веселушка как всегда. Ника принесла нам пакет продуктов. Пошли ее провожать. Впервые я вышла за пределы своего двора.

День десятый: 5 марта 2022, суббота

Утром сразу дозвонилась сестре. Она как лучик света. Для меня и для многих людей.

Стояли во дворе с соседями и тут огромное чудо! Я вижу Диму и Наташу! Никогда не была так рада их видеть! Принесли продукты. Сказали, что с матерью всё в порядке. Отлягло… Звоню сестре, не получается.

Снова пришла Ника. Они собираются уезжать по зеленому коридору. Но позднее узнаем, что у них ничего не вышло.

Дима и Наташа уходят, через них я передаю записку маме с информацией о Наде-сестре, об обстановке и о ее родственниках в Энергодаре. Пообещали прийти через пару дней. Но мы в этом адском котле живем одним днем, нет, наверное, мгновением.

Бывают вспышки гнева. Но из стадии торга я так и не вышла.

День одиннадцатый: 6 марта 2022, воскресенье

Ночь была очень неспокойная. Не прекращалась стрельба. Утром начался настоящий армагеддон. Вся инфраструктура города разрушена, разрушены жилые дома, погибли люди… Кто за всё это ответит?

Вероника (племянница) с мамой снова делают попытку выехать.

Нет связи совсем.

На улицах раздают продукты - гуманитарка. Всё мясное, которое негде хранить.

15:15. Перешагнув стадию гнева, незаметно перехожу в стадию отчаяния и принятия ситуации….. Вот это и есть самое страшное.

Дорогая моя сестренка, внутри меня тоже дыра, наверное, гораздо больше твоей! Могу только мысленно послать тебе эти слова, родная моя.

Каждую ночь, ложась, я мысленно перечисляю всех людей, которых знаю, искренне веря, что все они останутся живы.

Вечером отключили газ.

Целый день нет связи.

2 последних блага отобрали…

Пытаемся заснуть в подвале, но я не выдерживаю долго, поднимаюсь в квартиру, ложусь в сапогах и двух куртках. Карманы постоянно набиты: фонарик, телефон, сигареты, спички и прочее необходимое постоянно. Ночью какое-то время удалось поспать. Всё тело болит.

День двенадцатый: 7 марта 2022, воскресенье

Бомбят с четырех утра, но далеко. Встаю, пытаюсь поймать связь. Сестра, наверное, уже сошла с ума, единственный лучик света погас. Умываюсь, чищу зубы через день, стараясь таким образом экономить воду. О купании и мытье головы не приходится даже мечтать. А когда-то мы не ценили обычные вещи…

Решаемся с Олей идти к Веронике, хотим ей дать номера телефонов наших родных. С Божьей помощью им удастся вырваться сегодня из города.

На дворе снежок… Пришло время полевой кухни. Варим на дровах борщ, греем воду, куриную грудку готовим на решётке. При чем вся эта готовка происходит в перерывах между взрывами, свистит над головой, успеваем со скоростью звука бежать в подвал. Взрыв! Совсем близко!

Умерла тётя Валя, соседка, её парализовало за несколько дней до войны. На её мужа страшно смотреть.

Поставили деревянный щит у подъезда. Будем записывать мелом, какой сегодня день - дата, день недели, день от начала войны. У людей разрядились телефоны, начнем теряться…

Мужчины перенесли тётю Валю в сарай. Умерла ещё одна женщина недалеко от нас.

Ночью стреляют от нас. Утро тихое. Примерно в 10 утра начинаются «прилёты». Эти умозаключения сделаны эмпирическим путем.

По правде сказать, я уже не уверена, что стадии восприятия информации правдивы. Их гораздо больше! Дорогие великие умы, вам придется переписать книги по психологии! Одно хочу сказать вам: наступления стадии отчаяния мы не допустим!!! Мы дети этой Земли. Мы любим свою Землю. Мы будем жить на ней и во благо её! Несмотря ни на что. И пусть эта жизнь: без воды, электричества, газа, грязные и уставшие, будет нашей привычной жизнью, только не стреляйте! Наши замечательные талантливые дети заслуживают не всего этого! Ради них мы готовы на всё: рв*ть на куски, з*бивать до см*рти палками, грызть, идти врукопашную голыми руками и кричать на всю планету:

Мы - люди! Мы - будем жить!

Вчера Вероника прочла стихотворение Т. Г. Шевченко «Мені тринадцятий минало»… Маленький мой герой…

Вечером сидим в подвале.

Завтра 8 Марта. У Оли расцвели крокусы.  

День тринадцатый: 8 марта 2022, вторник

Ночь была тихой. А быть может мы уже привыкли к звукам, несвойственным нашей обычной жизни… Сегодня на завтрак жареная картошка и рыба, приготовленные на костре.

Мужчины поздравляют с праздником. Виталик целовал и обнимал меня, как ни разу за всю нашу совместную жизнь. Даже подарок преподнес: бутылку «Маренго» и вафли Надюше. Алексей принес шоколадные капельки для тортов. Юра поздравил нас тортом, который он вероятнее всего «спер» из разграбленного магазина. Но, к сожалению, он оказался пропавшим. А мы так хотели поделить его на всех соседей-женщин! Но пусть это будет самым большим огорчением. Зато у меня была припасена бутылка шампанского!

Ночью засыпало снегом. Красота! Подснежники в снегу! Настоящий женский день! Сейчас капель, собираем воду.

О Веронике (племянница) ничего не известно. Уехали ли? Но единогласно решили, что, если не пришла вечером, вероятнее всего им удалось прорваться. Береги вас Бог!

Приезжал Артур, племянник дяди Саши. Он на поселке, видел маму вчера. Это очень хорошая новость. Спасибо всем Героям, которые перемещаются по городу и приносят вести. Береги Вас Бог!

На площадках между 1 и 2 этажами склад дров. Пришлось заносить всё внутрь, так как люди в округе начинают разбирать деревянные крыши.

Радость в самых примитивных вещах, о которых подумать не мог никто никогда. Всё материальное ушло на последний план.

Самым замечательным подарком для нас, женщин, был банный день. Мужчины слили воды с отопления, нагрели в вёдрах на мангале и мы, о чудо, помылись в ледяных ванных комнатах! Чистые волосы, благоухающие шампунем, были прекраснее всех самых красивых цветов в мире!

День чотирнадцятий: 9 марта 2022, среда

Где-то высоко-высоко на небе осталась, наверное, последняя капелька, которая готовится упасть на мою головушку… Я не знаю, где взять сил, чтобы удержать её, не позволить расклеиться и отчаяться. Изо всех сил стараюсь держаться! Страшно, что я перестаю думать о маме, сестре и других людях, потому что думать о них некогда и факт незнания о них совершенно ничего (потеряла мысль) не меняет.

Упал снаряд где-то совсем рядом. По словам дяди Вити Гончарова, попал в хирургию и в жилой дом. Сколько ещё нужно разрушений и смертей?

Сегодня у папы день рождения. Как они там? Последняя информация была, когда была связь. Ещё тогда он ходил на работу под пулями.

Неизвестны масштабы разрушений даже в городе. В моем, нашем Городе-Герое!

С самого утра все раздражены. Здесь все стали инвалидами на всю оставшуюся жизнь. Вопрос только в том, сколько её осталось - этой жизни?

Дорогой мой дневничок, я каждый день прошу, чтобы страничка, на которой пишу, больше не переворачивалась, всего лишь по одной причине - нечего больше писать.

12:50. К часу дня ожидается авиаудар. Сообщила соседка из первого подъезда. Ждем… Дай Бог, неправда.

16:20. Снаряд прилетел в наш дом. Пострадала крыша дома, кухня, квартира Волковых и наше одно окно. Дядя Саша жив. До темна разобрали мусор. Было подозрение на пожар. Пожарные проверили. Все в порядке.

Держимся! Ночуем в подвале.

20:00. До сего времени у меня не нашлось слов, чтобы описать АД, который просочился мерзко в нашу жизнь!!! Даже в самом страшном сне невозможно было представить то, что произошло сегодня. Адская машина пустила в наше жилище снаряд. Спасибо всем, кто помогал разгребать завалы, тушить пожар. Дядя Саша не ранен, его забрал к себе друг в соседний двор. Ребята завтра будут закрывать дыру в крыше. Они - настоящие герои! Знаете, я безумно рада теперь, что нет связи, и никто из близких - ни сестра, ни мать, ни отец, ни тётя Надя Волкова не знают о том кошмаре, произошедшем сегодня.

Мужчины держатся молодчинами. Надюша строит планы на будущее. Говорит, буду дяде Саше делать ремонт в кухне.

Грохот, пыль, крыша дома разлетелись на весь периметр двора, обломки кирпичей, снаряд к дяди Саши в кухне, смог, море людей, паника, страх…

Средь оплывших свечей и вечерних молитв,

Средь военных трофеев и мирных костров

Жили книжные дети, не знавшие битв,

Изнывая от мелких своих катастроф.

Жили и не понимали, что счастливы.

День пятнадцатый: 10 марта 2022, четверг

Сегодняшняя ночь была первой, полностью проведённой в подвале. Только бесстрашный Виталик поднимался в квартиру поспать какое-то время. Я, Надя, Оля, Вадик и Юра всю ночь были в подвале. Четырнадцатый день войны (а мы так мечтали, что он будет последним) принес на настоящую беду в наш дом. Крыши с нашей стороны практически нет. Из дяди Сашиной кухни сквозная дыра в небо. Рае не мы благодарили природу за дождь и снег, теперь надеемся, что не будет ни того, ни другого. Практически всю воду израсходовали на тушение пожара. Обошлись свои и силами благодаря тому, что возгорание было небольшим. Иначе приехавшие пожарные залили бы нашу квартиру.

Оля перебирает разный хлам в подвале и смешит меня своими баночками. Спрашивает, какие выбрасывать, какие нет. У меня и самой такого добра хватает с избытком. Кстати, в первую очередь нам пригождается именно то, что хотелось выбросить. Сколько я нервничала из-за того, что Виталик собирает разные деревяшки и прочий «непотріб». А теперь ребята заготовили на площадке дрова для костра и на душе теплее (было в тот момент).

Мы сделали лежанки у нас в подвале и в коридоре из стульев и старой двери. Замечательно вышло!

Мужчины соорудили светильник, теперь у нас, как днем: автомобильный аккумулятор + светодиодная лента. Сплошная игра на выживание. Только бы снаряды больше не прилетали. Стреляет тяжелая артиллерия, бомбит авиация, слышны перестрелки из автоматов и пулеметов. Фильмы о Великой Отечественной войне кажутся мультиками. Навсегда мы останемся в 1 стадии, наверное. Видим всё своими глазами, болят наши сердца, разрываются на куски вместе с домами и людьми. А поверить в этот ад до сих пор никто так и не смог.

Пришел дядя Саша в свою квартиру. Я нее знаю, что он там делает. Наверное, дорывает остатки своего сердца.

Приезжали на велосипеде Светин брат Андрей. Привез весточку от неё. К них все целы и всё цело. Только от Генчика скорее всего никаких вестей.

Оля говорит: «Живём, как бомжи». Да нет, начнем так жить, когда закончится вода”.

Приходила Ника, ее двоюродный брат Дима, Ира и Костя. Здорово нас новоселили! У Ирки видимо нескончаемый запас алкоголя :)

Саша Чаленко рассказал, что в его доме (четырехэтажка по Семашко) девочка родила малыша в г/б #3. Туда прилетел снаряд. Ее ранило стеклами, и полиция с Красным Крестом доставляли её домой. На месте ей обрабатывали раны, с ребенком всё хорошо. Великое чудо! Новая жизнь!

Надюша готовила всем чай. Пришел дядя Витя, и она угостила его стаканчиком горячего напитка. Боже, сколько благодарности, сколько счастья у этого старичка от этого совсем недавно совершенно незначительного поступка ребенка. Очень мучается старый человек от того, что не может похоронить свою жену, что её смог её обмыть и надеть её любимое платье. Это просто кошмар - все те вещи, которые я пытаюсь вкратце описать.

Найдочка пристает ко всем, лает от взрывов, бесит меня часто, но я безумно рада, что у нас отличные соседи Оля и Вадик, они очень любят животных. Теперь мы живем как одна семья.

Приходит время от времени Вадика друг Сережа. О нем отдельная история… Человек-человечище, Герой, постоянно приносит нам весточки! Не боится парень, ходит красивый такой, обаятельный в строгом стильном пальто и приносит людям радость. Совершенно незнакомый человек стал необычайно родным. Мы все здесь родными стали, кровными. Только ничего не знаю о сестре, о папе, о маме. Бедная мамуля, одна, ей наверно нечем кормить своих животных. Уповаю только на соседей.

Вот сидим в подвале: Вадик, Оля, Найдочка, Виталик, Надюша, Машенька, Кнопочка (скорее всего в подвале Оли со второго этажа) и Юра - Зеленый шарф :) Ирка, уходя выплюнула: “Держитесь, ребята и ты -  Зеленый шарф, держись!” Где он откопал этот ужасный зеленый мохеровый шарф из 90-ых? Теплый наверное?

Надюша нарисовала календарь на март и мы его повесили. Сегодня 10 марта, 15-ый день войны…

Сережа, один из героев нашего времени, рассказал сколько стоят продукты: 100 грн - 1 кг муки! Более не стоит говорить…
Да и к чему - все наши деньги остались “благополучно” в банке ПУМБ. Мой муж Виталик мечтал купить машину. Золотая мечта!

1170 человек - мирных жителей за период Великого Российского освобождения или сумасшедшей адской игры Чокнутого Путлера. Это только в Мариуполе!

Вестники - герои говорили, МЧС-ники стояли на коленях перед военными на левом берегу, молили разрешить достать людей из-под завалов, не позволили. Карточная игра сумасшедших людей.

20:44 Вот бы сьесть какую-нибудь фруктину! Юрка принес яблоки ледяные, Виталик греет одно для Надюши за пазухой. Банка консервированных персиков - это божественно! Вот запасливый человек! Радует девчонок!

День шестнадцатый: 11 марта 2022, пятница

Холодно. Мороз крепчает. В подвале теплее, чем в квартире. Спать невозможно по двум причинам: либо содрогаешься от взрывов, либо застываешь до окоченения, несмотря на то, что одежды на мне больше, чем вешу я сама…

Вадик греет кружку воды на сухом горючем. Надюша спит в подвале, заставила Найдочку греть ей ночи. Оля борется с Честером. Виталик спит в квартире с Подриком. 7:18. Ноги застыли…

12:19 Наконец-то отогрелись ноги. Позавтракали. Вражеский самолет не прекращает кружить над нами. Взрывы, которые мы слышим постоянно, становятся все более привычными.

Светын брат привез от нее записку и овощей. Вот от таких грандиозных событий действительно становится теплее, от таких замечательных людей, которые под пулями несут другим весточку.

Андрюша Лукаш ездит по окрестностям на велосипеде в поисках продуктов для своей собаки. Хотел переместить мать и сестру к моей маме, но они не соглашаются. Очень изменился внешне, да и все мы…

Гляжу на себя в зеркало и вижу восьмидесятилетнюю старуху.

Хочу сказать, что все мы здесь в блокадном Мариуполе по-своему Герои: кто-то несет вести, другие не боятся под пулями проведывать своих близких, раздобыть продукты и воду, поддерживать отчаявшихся, бродить по местности, пытаясь поймать антенну на экране мобильного, готовят горячую еду, рискуя жизнью. Вот это и есть настоящий героизм, а не бессмысленные стрельбы по чьим-то маразматичным приказам. В сердцах людей такие огромные дыры, что не зашить их даже самыми волшебными нитями. Будь проклята война!!!

15:42 Очень замерзла, особенно Надя. Растирала ее ноги своими ладонями. Нагрела у Олега воды на мангале, слила в бутылки и обложила Надю. Надеюсь, согреется. Начинаю кашлять. Хорошо бы водки с лимоном. Юра принес. Наливаю грамм сто, выпиваю и понимаю, что выпила какой-то яд. Оказалось, это был спирт! Думала, выгорит все внутри. Но это не важно, важно то, что я согрелась, как в погожий летний день на пляже. Вот спасибо!

17:13 Мою посуду, крик в подьезде: “Виталя!” Испугалась. Оказалось, Саша Кауртаев! Принес две пачки сигарет. Димка с ним. Опять повеселили нас здорово! Вся семья как на подбор. Они возвращают нас к нормальной жизни. Дима тоже ведет дневник (ему 25 лет). Удивительно. Вместе издадим книгу :)

Саша Чаленко приходил с очередными новостями. В Садках сгорели два дома полностью до тла, у него на глазах во время похода на крыницу по воду. На поселке Украина сгорел девятиэтажный дом.

День семнадцатый: 12 марта 2022, суббота

Ночь была относительно тихой. Удивительно, но удалось поспать на лежанке в подвале. Рассвело и я решилась подняться в квартиру к Виталику, забралась к нему в шалаш из пледа и почувствовала такое умиротворение, которое не испытывала за эти дни ни разу. Через небольшой промежуток времени начались бомбежки совсем близко. Похоже удалось узнать, два снаряда упали - в дом по улице Саши Кауртаева и вблизи Светы Заводиной. Неизвестно, есть ли жертвы.

Готовить завтрак становится все сложнее. Вадик очень устал, больная нога сейчас по особенному дает о себе знать. Но горячее есть нужно, и все это понимают и прикладывают все возможные усилия. Дима и Наташа проведали нас снова! Заходили к маме. Бедная, она измучилась совсем, переживает, и без того не дающая покоя гипертония теперь беспокоит ее еще больше. Есть ли у нее лекарства? Слава Богу, вовремя пришли они и она не сорвалась в дорогу! Бесстрашная моя мамуля. Передавала продукты: огромную банку горячего борща и много другого. Написала ей записку, причем не стала описывать никакие события (Дима и Наташа и без меня расскажут), просто сказала “спасибо” и попросила прощения.

Грели чайник у Олега Саударя. Приходили люди к его жене Наташе, говорили, что центр города уничтожен. Наш замечательный город уничтожен неведо кем и для чего! Ради какой такой цели уничтожено все и гибнут люди?!?!?!

Артур и Люба искали д.Сашу, мы рассказали им, где он сейчас находится.

Вадик и Виталик забирались на чердак, положили листы шифера на дыру. Это было героически! По фотографиям, сделанным Вадиком наверху, я увидела настоящую картину разрушения.

Живу только одним: надеюсь, что всему, даже самому ужасному рано или поздно приходит конец…

Лешка нашел у себя календарики, раздал соседям. А я по-прежнему пишу на двери мелом дату…

Надежда умирает последней…

В моем круге много Надюш: моя доча, т.Надя Волкова, женщина из второго подьезда, которая не так давно купила квартиру в нашем доме, моя дорогая сестренка. Хожу по улице, когда потише, пытаюсь поймать связь. Хоть минутку поговорить с сестрой…

Надела сегодня агатовый браслет, который подарил мне Сережа Орлов (за месяц до войны), убеждаю себя в том, что эти бусины по-настоящему волшебные и станут нашим оберегом.

18:25 Пишу ручкой, которую подарил мне Леша, написала одну строчку с горем пополам, не хочет она писать, хотя очень красивая, с блестками, в футляре.

На две минутки заходила Катя Голышева - чудесная рыжуля Катюша. Дядя Витя мучается от того, что не может похоронить жену. Сегодня к ним приезжали военные, хотели конфисковать машину, но удалось отстоять. Мы испугались до смерти, думали либо мужчин пришли забрать, либо пушку в нашем доме хотят поставить. В тот момент мне показалось, что сердце оторвалось и улетело куда-то в космос. Несколько часов не могу прийти в себя, внутри печет адским пламенем. Ноги практически отнялись. 20:20 Разорвался где-то рядом…

Виталик ходил по воду в Садки. Там колодец. Второй раз взял с собой Надю, невыносимо было ждать…

Приходил д.Саша Волков с каким-то парнем. Взяли какие-то вещи и баклажку воды. А нам сказал слить воду из его аквариума (рыбки уже лежали на дне) и забрать питьевую из бака. Я не смогла подняться в его квартиру.

Я смотрю фотографию в телефоне… Ребята с работы, девченки, одноклассники, друзья и знакомые… Все те, о ком я ничего не знаю… Возможно многих из них я не увижу никогда и даже не узнаю живы ли они… Смотрю видео как я танцую с папой на его 60-ти летие; Геннадий рассказывает какую-то историю о гороховом супе, Светка смеется, а Ксю комментирует, вспоминая Яну и Виталика; мы поем песню Чижа “Прогулка по Одессе” с Дашкой, а рядом Оля Шаламова и Виталька (снимает наверное Оксана). Мы на пляже; Рождество у Яны, танцуем под Кузьмина “Эй красотка”; пиратская вечеринка в Юрьевке, Сережка пьяный, все мы переодеты в пиратов; под песню (подивитись назву, неясно написано)  я и Оксанка кружим на берегу нашего Азовского моря и подпеваем ему: The Show must go on! Шоу должно продолжаться! Только не это! Безумие! Приносящее только горе и смерть! Фотография папы и мамы вместе на нашей улице Водопроводной расклеила меня окончательно.

Я перестала вспоминать людей перед сном. Опускаются руки. “Пожалуйста, не делай этого! Не смей! Не сходи с ума! Ты никогда не простишь себе слабость!” - кричу я себе, но никто не отвечает.

21:15 Я больше не могу спать. Страх, не за себя, за близких заполнил каждую клеточку моего тела.

Юрьевка. Самое начало лета. Солнышко еще ласковое. Утром море спокойное, тихое, как зеркальце. У самого берега резвятся малыши-рыбки, когда-то они станут большими рыбами, пополнят фауну, будут умирать и рождаться, а над морем не перестанут парить чайки и маленькие неизвестные мне птички, пикируя вниз головой в воду в стремительной атаке желая поймать рыбешку. Я сижу в любимом пляжном кресле, ноги касаются воды, она немного прохладная, но мне приятно.

…Я в своєму ліжку. Ніхто не стріляє. Дитина спить в своїй кімнаті. Вранці їй до інституту. Поруч мій чоловік Віталік, теплий і дуже коханий. І ми засинаємо одночасно… Нам сниться один й той же сон довжиною в наше спільне життя, всі наші добрі і погані моменти, навіть сварки. Але ми дуже щасливі в цьому сні. Настільки щасливі, що не хочеться просипатися ніколи.

День восемнадцатый: 13 марта 2022, воскресенье

Всю ночь и утро бомбили самолеты, и артиллерия, и какие-то непонятные пушки. Вздрагиваем от каждого звука! Ночь и первая половина дня прошли в каком-то сумасшествии. Я даже ничего не могу вспомнить толком. Только одно могу сказать: сходить в туалет в квартиру (при чем не на унитаз, а ведро, которое ужасно воняет) со скоростью звука было нереально сложно. Очень долго приходится снимать и одевать вещи, боясь, что придется бежать из квартиры с голой попой.

Приходил Сережа. Он был в центре города, вернее, в том, что от него осталось. Описывал те ужасы, которые видел своими глазами. Вадику было удачнее всех это слышать: у него там мама и родственники. Он ничего о них не знает всё это время.

Вторая половина дня относительно тихо. Несколько раз получилось нагреть чайник. Съели мамин борщ.

18:40 Юра - волшебник. Чего бы не захотелось, только стоит подумать, тут же оказывается рядом Юра и достает из своего волшебного кармана предмет желания: сливки для кофе, чипсы, фрукты.

Приходил Саша Чаленко, человечек, умеющий приподнять настроение, после общения с которым становится теплее и в этом мире, насквозь пропитанном войной и бедой.

Видела сегодня Свету Заводину. Она живет в убежище с мамой и сыном. Спросила о Ане и ее семье - ничего не знает.

День девятнадцатый: 14 марта 2022, понедельник

Спала долго… Мучает поясница, нога и вся правая сторона. Ночью мучалась, хотя и было тихо, под утро уснула младенческим сном. Все уже встали. Оля сварила гречу. Даже Надюшин голос был слышен сквозь сон, а я не могу подняться.

Долгую очередь отстояли в «Любаве» за продуктами. Пришли Дима и Наташа. В очереди увидела Женю Карачевцева, нашего соседа с п. Украина, где мы раньше жили. Как радостно видеть знакомые лица!

Вита и Женя переехали с Украины на Пуглино, по соседству с мамой, к своим родителям.

Вита дала мне 200 грн. Я не хотела брать, но она уговорила: «Я тебе занимаю». И тут я поняла, что она очень хочет встретиться ещё. На 180 грн мне дали 1 кг сахара, 3 кг муки и 1 кг гречи. Виталику - 2 кг муки, 1 кг сахара и 1 кг риса на 170 грн. Завтра будем занимать очередь в 6 утра. Хочется передать маме.

Приезжал на велосипеде Андрей кум. Он ехал из центра города. Жуть! Центр разрушен! Авиацией! Поселок Волонтеровка разрушен, буквально стерт с лица земли! Восточный и Левый берег тоже! На Левом вырыли братскую могилу и сбрасывают туда трупы. Это невозможное что-то!

Леша принес мне табличку из МДФ. Попросит написать надгробную табличку тете Вале. Я старалась, как могла, в таких условиях. Красиво получилось. Может быть, дядя Витя немного порадуется…

Вадик нашел Наде костюм рабочий маленького размера, совершенно новый. Мы отрезали светонакопительные ленты и одели её. Она такая смешная и одновременно очень взрослая, моя девочка. Такое впечатление, что я проспала кусок жизни и мой ребенок очень повзрослел. Такая мудрая, сильная, мгновенно ставшая взрослой моя малышка.

Это Димка накалякал, маленький настоящий Герой. (Доменная 26/3)

Юра: пошел я сегодня в центр, смотрю разграбливают центральный рынок. Кричат мужики: “Мороженная хамса!” Беру я и думаю: поем я вместе со своим котейкой сырой. Я вообще сыроед: овощи ем сырые, селедку как-то поел сырую - красота. Накормлю, думаю, Катя, ваших котов и всех котов в округе. В этом весь наш Юрка - человек (Человечище!) в зеленом шарфе.

Дорогая моя сестричка! Как ты там, моя родная? Не сходи с ума только, умоляю тебя! Мы живы и будем жить ради детей, ради родных! И обязательно встретимся!

Я в школі. Мені десь 9-10 років. Урок географії веде Куценко Тетяна Леонідівна, тендітна доброзичлива жінка. Світ такий як є. На вчительському столі глобус, гарний такий, блакитний з частинами суші: материками, вершинами та низинами, річками та озерами. Там, десь маленьке чудове нашн місто, наша надзвичайна країна. Поруч мої друзі, дівчатка та хлопчики, які стали зараз жінками і чоловіками, кожний зі своїми рідними діточками, благають всіх Богів Всесвіту. Ми такі беспечні і юні і навіть не уявляємо, яке попереду жахливе майбутнє… Косичка, біла стрічка і погляд наче у квітки, в перший раз розквітнувшої навесні.

День двадцатый: 15 марта 2022, вторник

Весна розквітає наповну, незважаючи на війну… Сьогодні побачила бутони жовтих крокусів, на трояндах смачні бруньки. Кімнатні рослини тихенько помирають. Їм дуже холодно. Тільки каланхое радує своїм цвітінням. У квартирі десь +5. 

Вранці набирали воду з системи опалювання всім подвірʼям. Я розпалювала багаття, гріла воду, смажила ковбасу. Вдалося навіть помитися. Неймовірно! Тільки вдягатися прийшлося дуже швидко, бо засвітили знаряди і почулися вибухи зовсім близько. З мокрим волоссям бігала до підвалу. 

Вранці, я ще спала, приїжджав Андрій Лукаш. Десь роздобув печиво «Марія» і пригостив свою хрещену доньку, нашу Надійку. 

Дима попал под обстрел. Очень испугались, когда он прибежал к нам и рассказал об этом. 

Виталик ходил во взломанные разграбленные конторы комбината. Чудом удалось принести домой 15 аптечек, очень хороших по комплектации и всё годное. Настоящий героический поступок. Завтра будем делиться с соседями. 

А в общем всё плохо. 

Город рушат всё больше! 

Людей погибает всё больше! 

Моє кохане квітуче місто! Гарне, сучасне, вбране дивовижним морем, рослинами і тваринами, міцною інфраструктурою і гарними доброзичливими людьми. Як тільки піднялася рука зруйнувати все це через дурні нелюдські амбіції зʼїхавшего з глузду антихриста! 

Господь Милосердный, 

Спаси и Сохрани Украину! 

P.S. Связь уже не проверяю. Прости меня, моя дорогая сестричка.

День двадцать первый: 16 марта 2022, среда

Целый день относительно тихо. Может быть всё закончилось? А может это начало конца?

Сегодня хоронили тётю Валю. Никто из мужчин не решился идти на кладбище, решили единогласно хоронить во дворе. Жуть! Мужчины копали яму. Гроб удалось раздобыть. Все соседи собрались во дворе и провели эту замечательную женщину, рожденную и усопшую во время войны, в последний путь. Царствие небесное!

Мы с Олей ходили к Кауртаевым, надеялись узнать, где взять сигарет и зарядить гаджеты. Они сидят на чемоданах, хотят уехать, но совершенно неизвестно реально это или нет. На обратном пути зашли к Ане Евтушенко. Я звала её, стучала по калитке, но никто не вышел. Во дворе у них разруха, скорее всего они куда-то ушли. По пути встретили Артема Бучина, Надюшиного друга. Мальчик, всегда приветливый и солнечный, повзрослевший не по годам. Не узнал меня. Наверное, про 80-тилетнюю бабушку я была права. Храни тебя Бог, ребенок!

«Дорогая моя сестричка! Если бы ты только знала, как мы живем, сколько ужаса приходится пропускать через себя каждому жителю нашего города и других городов нашей прекрасной страны! Если бы ты только видела разрушенный город, такой родной и любимый!

Если бы только слышала звуки разрывающихся снарядов, попадающих в дома и человеческие жизни! Если бы ты только видела брошеных животных с опустошенными безнадежными глазами! Слышишь ли ты стон Земли? Слышишь ли ты стоны людей: детей, стариков, мужчин и женщин, мамочек с младенцами?

Я не устаю писать тебе SMS-ки, которые до тебя не доходят. Я не устаю верить, что все мы выживем во имя того, чтобы потомки узнали, что на самом деле творилось в Украине в 2022 году.

Если ты слышишь меня и крики испуганных людей, сильных и слабых, не теряющих надежду и отчаявшихся, у тебя уже разрывалось сердце на тысячу мельчайших кусочков. Не слышь меня! Живи! И не теряй надежду! Мы живы! И непременно увидимся, когда закончится война и мы будем радоваться самым простым вещам: тишине, солнцу, пению птиц, улыбкам близких людей, обыкновенной незатейливой еде, воде и теплу от костра и миру..

Жди, родная моя, и вознаградится терпение наше! Господи! Спаси и сохрани! Аминь!”

День двадцать второй: 17 марта 2022, среда

Холодно. Снег. Мороз. Удивительно, что никто ещё не заболел. Наверное, организм включил свои резервы.

День прошел, как обычно. Обычный день «обычной жизни». Мёрзнем, болят ноги и всё тело от огромного количества одежды на каждом из нас, от бесконечной беготни вверх-вниз, от накопившейся усталости за последние 22 дня.

Приезжала Катя Голышева с ребятами на какой-то старой развалюхе, на которой было написано «Діти». Они привезли нам сумку муки, которую собирали с пола. Чем уж точно Бог одарил в этой жизни, так это хорошими друзьями.

К маме так и не выбралась… Утром жарила оладьи, днем варила борщ на всю компанию, а под вечер захотелось побыть дома. Не стреляли и было так хорошо и уютно, несмотря на то, что квартира похожа на сарай. Удалось даже протереть пол в Надиной комнате, коридоре и кухне. Цветы погибают, сердце кровью обливается. Не знаю, правильно я сделала или нет, полила их немного теплой водичкой и протерла влажной салфеткой листья.

Связи нет. Воды нет. Тепла нет. Электричества нет. И, по всей вероятности, мы начинаем привыкать к этому хаосу (упадничеству).

День двадцать третий: 18 марта 2022, пятница

Какие у войны изуверские глаза!

Люди сходят с ума! Голод! Страх! Безысходность!

Если бы только знать, когда закончится это безумие? Не нужно нам ничего из благ житейских!!! Дайте спокойно жить, без стрельбы!!! Мы с дочей сходим на криничку, принесем воды, вымоем квартиру, помоемся и будем безумно счастливы! Мы все взберёмся на крышу, даже Надюша, и починим её, и будем все вместе восстанавливать наш прекрасный город для наших детей, внуков и правнуков. Господи, спаси и сохрани!

Я у драматичному театрі. Ми прийшли з дитиною на виставу. Вона отримала перемогу на конкурсі малюнку про своє місто. Ми разом намалювали малюнок про наше чудове місто і виграли білети на виставу. Чудово! Ось би зараз! Навіть якщо закінчиться війна зараз, нічого вже не буде в нашій країні і нашим дітям немає майбутнього. Немає театру в центрі міста, немає гарних розважальних центрів, парків. Дуже старався наш мер зробити наше місто ще гарнішим, але все марно, бо зруйноване руками диявола.

Я у своїй старій квартирі, де ми жили раніше. Тільки-но прийшли з пологового будинку, який можна побачити з вікна нашої кухні. Зі мною матуся, сестричка і чоловік. На руках я тримаю свою новонароджену дитинку - нове життя. Всі заклопотані і щасливі. Зʼявився новий сенс у житті нашої родини. На дворі жовтень грає яскравими фарбами осені…

Минуло багато жовтнів і моїй дочці майже двадцять. На дворі березень, мороз, температура десь -10 і майже завжди іде сніжок.

Дуже холодно. Я не памʼятаю такої погоди в цю пору року. Всі заклопотані, але зовсім іншими клопотами. І на обличчях більше немає щастя.

День двадцать четвертый: 19 марта суббота

Дядя Саша Волков приходит иногда. Вот сегодня был утром, плакал, сказал, что поддерживают люди из церкви. я даже представить не могу, что он испытывает, заходя к себе домой. Берет что-то и снова уходит…

Вот и пришел тот день, когда люди превратились в нелюдей!!! Больше всего я боялась именно этого. Оля оказалась самым слабым звеном и первая устроила скандал. Претензиям не было конца: устроили срач на лавке, захламили весь подъезд, питаться вместе было плохой идеей, где моя ложка и прочее в этом стиле. Мне её очень жаль… По отдельности выжить очень трудно. Она упрекнула меня в том, что мы, оказывается, съели все их продукты, а теперь оказывается я достаю всё понемногу из-под полы и с недовольным лицом выдала ей вчера две картошки. Бред! Когда у них закончится вода, я не знаю даже, кто из них пойдет за ней, если они оба боятся пойти дальше своего подъезда.

Обозвала меня «крысой». Бог ей судья! Все, что приносили наши друзья, я выкладывала на общий стол. Зачем теперь считаться? Человек сделал свой выбор. А жизнь потом расставит всё по своим местам. И каждый получит своё за всё свои поступки. А я… уже слишком много проглотила, проглочу и это.

Хочу сказать, сегодня, наверное, самый худший день, хотя в глубине души я знала, что так будет рано или поздно. Больно. Очень больно. Но самое важное - моя семья и придется претерпеть ещё многое, чтобы она выжила. Теперь я делаю глубокие вдохи, выдохи и успокаиваюсь… Я у себя дома и мне хорошо и спокойно, рядом Найдочка цокает своими коготками, за окном слышен лай собак, светит солнышко и так будет всегда. Господи! Спаси и сохрани! Всех! И дай Оле сил и разума больше, чем всем остальным.

Отдельно хотелось бы написать о ребятах на пожарных машинах. Воистину настоящие Герои! Мимо нашего дома регулярно проезжает машина «Талаківка» с разбитыми стеклами, внутри которой сидят мужчины, сделанные из стали и гранита; ни одна мышца не вздрагивает на их лицах. Под непрекращающимися бомбежками они выполняют свой долг. Низкий поклон вам, великие люди!

Мы ходим с Виталиком к Кауртаевым, к Ирине и к Ане. Первые держатся неплохо. А вот Анюта совсем поникла, пришлось бодрить её, чем только в голову пришло. «Не унывай, дорогая моя подружка, прокатишься ты ещё на своем кране, поработаем ещё вместе».

День двадцать пятый: 20 марта 2022, воскресенье

Эмоций становится всё меньше. То ли привыкли, то ли бояться надоело и мозг принимает происходящее как данное. Безысходность. Нет никакой информации, когда наконец закончится этот кошмар. И это более всего удручает. Люди становятся всё более печальными, их лица уже совершенно не такие, как раньше, несмотря на то, что многие ещё шутят и улыбаются. Это другие улыбки. Они напоминают гримасы сумасшедших, заключенных в психиатрическую больницу насильно. На самом же деле каждый из них уверен, что он нормален и с превеликим успехом благополучно живет в своем мире.

Мои близкие, родные, замечательные люди постепенно разваливаются, как карточные домики, срываются, сходят с ума, отчаиваются. Их прекрасные глаза тускнеют, карие, голубые, серые, когда-то яркие, с огоньками внутри глаза. Жизнерадостная рыжая Катюша плачет и за пеленой слез я не вижу цвета её глаз. Держись! Держись до конца из последних сил, дорогая моя Катенька!

Я не знаю, процитировал или придумал сам Алексей такую фразу: «Они могут забрать у нас всё: еду, воду, тепло и многое другое. Даже наши жизни. Но они никогда не отнимут у нас Надежду!».

День двадцать шестой: 21 марта 2022, понедельник

Город разрушен! По существующим данным: то, что видим сами, то, что рассказывают люди, которые все до единого стали невероятно близкими. Я знаю, что уцелело, если можно так сказать, немного: Ильичевский район и Приморский. Восточный, Левый берег превращены в пепелище ещё в начале войны. Волонтеровка, Украина разгромлены. Центр, Кирова, 17-23 МКР разгромлены, Мирный в огне.

Наше чудове місто намагаються зрівняти з землею!!! Нелюди! Кому це треба? Навіщо хочуть нашої смерті? І хто? Ми нічого не розуміємо!

Дорогоцінні мої мамо і тато, живіть, будь ласка! Пробачте мене, мої рідні, за все, що я зробила неправильно! Я стою перед вами на колінах, я цілую ваші ноги і землю, по якій ви ходите. Бережи вас Бог!

Любі мої друзі: Сергійко Орлов, Оксаночко, Андрійко Лукаш, Яна і Віталік, Віта. Пробачте, я зараз навіть не можу згадати всіх вас. Живіть, будь ласка! Я благаю всесвіт, я благаю матінку-землю! Тільки залишайтесь живими!

Донечка моя Надійка!

Я і тато твій завжди хотіли тобі найкращого, працювали заради тебе і твого майбутнього. Пробач нас, що нам не вдалося тобі всього дати того, на що ти заслуговуєш, моя красуня, моя розумна дівчинка. Повір, ми намагаємося вижити тільки заради того, щоб витягнути тебе з цього пекла, шкіру з себе зняти, щоб в тебе було майбутнє, сімʼя, діточки, гарне життя. Дитинка моя чарівна, живи і будь щасливою!

День двадцать седьмой: 22 марта 2022, вторник

Какое-то время удалось «поспать» в квартире, остальное на очном в подвале. Каждый новый день все сложнее: постоянный недосып, бесконечные движения в нечеловеческих условиях, приготовление пищи под пролегающими снарядами и взрывами… Ноги ужасно болят, колени кажутся вывернутыми наизнанку, кисти рук от холода, грязи и мытья посуды в холодной воде покрыты ранами. Мыться частично приходится где-то раз в 4-5 дней, голова чешется. Приходится экономить воду. Да и купание в холоде невыносимо.

Сегодня заходила к дяде Саше в квартиру. Он оставил нам ключи. Поубирали с Виталиком кирпичи, сложили на площадке, немного удобнее будет ему пробираться домой. Вынесла снаряд из квартиры, не хочу, чтобы он там находился. Завтра нужно будет вынести его из дома.

Ещё вчера приезжал Виталик Любарский на детском велосипеде. Другой совершенно человек! Серьезный такой. Гораздо лучше разговаривает. Я понимаю каждое его слово. Рассказал, как пострадала его с Яной квартира ещё в первые дни. Яна осталась с своей матерью тетей Люсей у нее дома, а Виталик полз полдня к своей маме Ирине, которая живет неподалеку от нас. Сегодня приезжал снова. Говорит, был утром у Яны, отвозил ей воду. Теперь снаряд попал в квартиру тети Люси. Виталик теперь настоящий маленький боец на маленьким велосипеде.

Приходил Саша Чаленко, угощал “купажным” напитком; болтали, шутили, я жарила лепешки, которые всем показались настоящим вкуснейшим тортом, потом пили кофе. Но вдруг взрыв совсем рядом, черный дым со стороны Сашиного дома. Я никогда не забуду его лицо! Слава Богу, снаряд упал между его домом и соседским. Обошлось разбитыми окнами. Жертв нет.

Половину дня мы провели, добывая воду. Виталик чудом обнаружил, что в бойлерах в «Отделе оборудования» осталась вода. Получилось принести домой где-то 100 литров воды, пригодной для приготовления пищи. Это настоящее чудо! Сливать её пришлось очень долго, через тонкую трубочку, но результат оправдал все наши мучения.

Удалось купить 5 пачек сигарет по 100 гривен каждая.

Во дворе Лены Бизгоры продавали какие-то люди. Лена как всегда в заботах, ухаживает за всеми животными в округе, добрая душа.

Вероника, Ира, Костя, Саша, Лена, Марина, Димка, Славик и какая-то пожилая женщина уехали. Ещё вчера, по словам соседа. В их доме выбиты окна. Завтра нужно идти: спрятать или забрать к себе ценные вещи - Ира просила. Дай Бог, у них все получится и они благополучно добрались в Мелекино.

Кружит самолет, сбрасывает смертоносные ракеты на наш родной город, в наши дома и в наши сердца. Мы сидим в подвале. Юрка принес яблоки. Наверное, самые вкусные, какие я видела. Все устали до изнеможения, лица посерели, глаза полны страха и отчаяния, но мы живы и огонек надежды, пусть очень маленький, ещё живет вместе с нами в наших израненных сердцах.

Добраніч, моя рідна ненька Україна!

Згинуть наші вороженьки,

Як роса на сонці.

Запануєм і ми, браття,

У своїй сторонці.

День двадцать восьмой: 23 марта 2022, среда

Бомбит авиация…

Готовим завтрак: позавчерашний горячий суп.

Наводим порядок в сарае. Там никогда ещё не было так чисто. Полдня тратим на это. Вторую половину дня провели у Вероники. Третий день их нет. Забили окна, убрали мусор, собрали кое-какие продукты. Ира просила забрать телевизор. Два раза относили все домой. Будем наведываться раз в день, если будет возможность. Нашли в сарае бутыль вина, отлили литр в банку. Очень вкусно. Нашли у них в холодильнике свежие овощи: пекинскую капусту, белокачанную капусту, петрушку, листья салата. Нашинковала себе божественный салат. Все инстинкты остались на уровне животного выживания.

Сегодня приезжал кум Андрей. Привез от мамы весточку. Я передала аптечки маме, свекрови, куму. Петренко семья выехала. По-видимому, Дима убил всех своих голубей и отдал маме. Она передала нам одного приготовленного голубя. Мы его не едим. Жуть. Андрей сказал, что дозвонился Наде сестре. Чудо!

Помылась. Частично. Вымыла голову. В воде, в которой купалась, удалось постирать кое-какие вещи: носки, колготки и трусики.

Очередной ужасный день…

Мы смирились. Только не стреляйте! Хочу сказать, что реакции на выстрелы и взрывы абсолютно притуплены, мы делаем свои обычные дела, пусть даже довольно таки не в тех совершенно условиях. Всегда нужно что-то делать - так говорила моя тетя Маша. И мы делаем, жизнь продолжается, не можем мы сложить руки, во имя будущего наших детей.

Добраніч, мої рідні, мої дорогоцінні люди, і всі люди нашої надзвичайної України!

Живіть!!!

День двадцать девятый: 24 марта 2022, четверг

19:23. Подходит к концу очередной день - двадцать девятый от начала войны. Каждый здесь, в этом аду, ведет себя по-разному: кто-то все также боится каждого шума, как и в первые дни, кто-то смирился, другие приняли как расплату за все грехи свои и всего человечества, многие успокоились и копошатся в своем быту. Иные пытаются вырваться из города и начать новую жизнь в другом месте. Мы же на семейном совете решили пинком не уезжать, дождаться, когда закончится стрельба, а дальше принимать какие-то решения по обстоятельствам. То, что у города нет будущего десяток лет, - это точно неоспоримый факт. Люди, побывавшие в других районах, описывают масштабы разрушений, которые просто ужасают.

Утро провели в доме у Иры. Привели в порядок кухню. Виталик снова забивал окна. Не прекращались авианалеты. Днем готовили еду: борщ и ячневую кашу. Снова приезжал Виталик Любарский на велосипеде. Пытался проехать к Яне на Курчатово. Его не пустили военные ВСУ.

Сережа и Кристина живут у нас, то есть в квартире Оли и Вадика уже несколько дней. Кристина плачет…

Слышала, уезжают люди из Водолечебницы и из пожарной части МЧС-ники. Это совсем плохо. Видя этих бесстрашных мужей, мне становилось намного легче и казалось, что рядом есть хоть какая-то защита.

Устали, измотались... Обычные люди, ни в чем не виноватые, труженики, просто хотевшие жить простой жизнью.

Завтра тридцатый день. Много это или мало? Никто не знает ответа. Каждый вечер, ложась спать, мы искренне верим, что утром больше не пролетит самолет, сбрасывающий ракеты, не прогремят орудия, изрыгивающие смертоносные снаряды, и всё привычное вернется на круги своя, а весь этот кошмар окажется страшным сном.

День тридцатый: 25 марта 2022, пятница

19:35. Из 400 человек, находящихся в Водолечебнице, на сегодня остались 26. Остальные колонной выехали то ли на 17 МКР, то ли за пределы города. По слухам, на 17 МКР ДНР выдают продовольственные пайки и там более безопасно. Но слухов предостаточно, как и таких, что на Восточном дали воду и свет. Дядя Витя (81 год) пешком ходил сегодня туда и собственными глазами видел, что ничего там нет, кроме полного хаоса и мрака, стрельбы и бегущих раненых людей.

Выехали сегодня люди и из убежища во дворе дяди Саши Чаленко в Талаковку.

Завтра нас останется еле меньше. Уезжает Олег Скударь с семьей в Новоалексеевку. У них там дача. Чаленко вывозит семью - 10 человек на двух машинах в с. Зеленый Яр. Приходил «прощаться». Говорил - вернемся при первой же возможности.

Оля и Вадик хотят перебраться на 17 МКР. Там у Вадика мама и брат. Но я не уверена, что они решатся всё-таки идти туда пешком.

Скорее всего уедут Гончаровы, но вероятно без дяди Вити. Думаю, он не оставит могилу своей “девочки Вали” (так он о ней говорил).

Собаку Соню Скудари оставляют. Старенькую рыжую худышку. Там, где четверо, там и пятеро. Если уйдут Вадик и Оля, добавится еще и кот Тима.

В нашем доме останется не много жильцлв: дядя Саша ушел, Скудари уезжают, Оля Хлопонина так и не вернулась с поездки, Вадик и Оля “на чемоданах”. Остаемся я, Виталик, Надюша, Валя и ее мама Оля, тетя Надя, т.Наташа с матерью.

Выходим утром зарядить павер-банки в лечебницу, заводоуправление еще дымилось… Женщины предлагали перебраться к ним. Но мы останемся дома в своих стенах, стойко дождемся конца войны все вместе, вместе с теми, кто остается ждать. И если суждено самое страшное, то пусть оно случится здесь, дома, нежели где-то на чужбине или в минуты бегства.

“Терпение и труд все перетрут”.

Вчера стала перечитывать Джоди Пиколт “Уроки милосердия”. Роман о Холокосте, о жизни и смерти, о раскаянии и прощении, удивительно актуальный нашла эпиграф!

“Трудно представить, что кто-то вдруг перестает считать другого человеком. Это значило бы лишь то, что он сам перестал быть человеком”.

Симон Визенталь “Подсолнух”.

Ночь между 30 и 31-ым днем.

Залишилась спати в квартирі разом зі своїм чоловіком. Поряд одне з одним нам дуже тепло. Кіт і собака сплять поруч. Інколи дика тиша, навіть не знаю, довго вона була чи ні. Здавалося без перестану цю ніч працювали пекельні машини.

Якою одиницею виміру насправді можна виміряти людське горе?

Скільки сліз людських вже пролито - не зрівняти навіть з кількістю води у Світовому океані.

Як виміряти відстань до Бога, благання якому посилають мільйони знедолених людей?

Чи існує назва хворобі нелюдя, який затіяв цю безглузду криваву війни, покалічивши стільки життів?

Якби знати, кого запитати? Якби знати, хто відповість за всі страждання мого народу, за зламаний дух і нестерпний відчай?

Не приїздить більше червона машина «Талаківка», яка надавала хоч якусь надію. Не бачимо більше скрізь побиті вікна залізних хлопців у формі пожежників. Вони теж залишили місто. Настав час масової паніки. У багатьох закінчилася їжа. Інші більше не можуть чути жахливі вибухи, бояться за себе і своїх діточок. І тікають з одної безодні в іншу. І в цьому нескінченному хаосі кожний робить свій вибір.

Мой город - не точка на карте мира

Мой город огромный гранитный Титан.

Пусть содрана кожа, на теле дыры,

Стоим, чуть качаясь, трещим по швам

и молимся всем богам…

Мой город чудесный в крови погибших,

В слезах живущих стоит в огне

Кричит всем богам. Но никто не слышит.

Никто не учавствует в этой войне

И больно втройне…

Мой город герой, с тобой твои дети,

Мой город - Надежда, Вера, Любовь.

Останься живым на прекрасной планете,

Не точкой на глобусе, а звездой

Самой яркой на свете.

Чтоб дети твои, сыновья и дочери

Заштопали раны твои собой,

Кровью и потом, что есть мочи

Заштопали раны своей душой.

Живи, мой Город-Герой!

День тридцать первый: 26 марта 2022, суббота

Утро выдалось невыносимо ужасным!!! Смертоносная ракета упала на улице Вероники (племянница). Котлован глубиной примерно 5 метров и в диаметре с нашу квартиру. Дом рядом с Вероникой разрушен. Одна женщина погибла. Я не смогу описать тот ужас, который испытала. Родственники дяди Саши собираются уезжать.

Очень много людей сегодня выехали за пределы города. Этот факт «расклеил» нас окончательно. Виталика таким опустошенным я видела сегодня впервые за все дни войны. Уехал Чаленко с семьей, Олег Скударь, Гончаровы. Колона из восьми машин. Остальные идут пешком в сторону 17 МКР. Уставшие, отчаявшиеся люди передвигаются группками, неся на себе кое-какие пожитки, в надежде получить там хоть какую-то еду и защиту. Но это всё по слухам, так это или нет, никто достоверное не знает. Идти нужно окольными путями, рискуя попасть под обстрелы. Так шел и Сережа Дзюбач с мамой и братом. Случайно получилось встретиться. Идут мои дорогие в неизвестность, а мы останемся здесь в своих домах в такой же неизвестности. Расстреляли Сашу Шулику где-то в районе Мухино. Так рассказал Сережа.

Каждый день мы проживаем, как в аду. Каждый день приносит нам новые испытания, калеча наше сознание все больше и больше. И нет этому ни конца, ни края…

Завтра собираются уходить Оля и Вадик. В нашем подъезде остается только наша семья.

Дядя Витя сидит на скамеечке у могилки своей девочки. Зрелище невыносимое! Мы пытаемся поддержать его, насколько это возможно. Но, думаю, все слова здесь излишни, а слов-то нет совсем никаких… Только каменные лица, пустые глаза, мозолистые, потрескавшиеся от грязи и холода руки, и израненные сердца, в которых теплится крохотный огонёчек Надежды.

День тридцать второй: 27 марта 2022, воскресенье

Все на світі можна обирати, сину. Вибрати не можна тільки Батьківщину![1]

Наступний день. Такий, як і напередодні, жахливий. Нові розгроми, і скалічені життя, і зруйновані домівки. Снаряд потрапив біля нашого дому, вилетіла остання шибка у вікні дальньої кімнати.

Знайшли у Волкових велосипеди в гаражі. Надя і Віталік зʼїздили до Олі та Віталіної колишньої колеги недалеко. Їх будинок також постраждав. В цей час я смажила хлібці на вогнищі. Водночас прибирала гілки і сміття на вулиці.

Оля і Вадик не змогли піти до центру міста. Поводир не погодився вести групу. Чекали близько двох годин. А потім розійшлися по домівках. Дівчата з сусіднього під’їзду намагалися дістатися продуктових пайків, але не вдалося. Може, так було і треба.

На сьогодні всі живі. І це найголовніше. Чекаємо ранку...

Багато думок на політичну тему, але я не хочу про це писати. Хочу сказати лише одне: я всім серцем люблю свою Батьківщину, таку чудову і неймовірну. Її міста і села, річки і море, людей щирих і доброзичливих. І всім серцем ненавиджу тих нелюдів, які затіяли війну проти моєї країни. І народ цієї країни став кривавим мʼясом, який коштує менш пів копійки. Насправді, людське життя - це пустий дзвін і правди ніхто не каже.

Люба моя сестричко, я виживу заради того, щоб довЕсти до тебе і до інших правду. І в цьому моя доля…

День тридцать третий: 28 марта 2022, понедельник

Утро у дяди Вити во дворе. Пьем чай. Пришел Димка, уставший и пьяный. Решаемся идти с ним на поселок. Мы с Надюшей впереди, Виталик и Димка метрах в ста от нас. На пятых воротах нас чуть не расстрелял военный. Так сильно я испугалась второй раз за все 33 дня. Бежал, кричал матом. Наде приказала упасть за бугор, а сама, подняв руки вверх, ору: «Не стреляй! Две женщины! Идем проведать мать! Не видели её месяц». «Документы!», - кричит он. А мы вышли без них. «Сгорел дом. Сгорели документы». Подходит ближе. Молодой совсем. Упала ему на грудь, плачу. А он оказался соседом Димки, доброволец. Зовут Артём. Слава Богу обошлось так. И мы пошли дальше. Но страх я испытала неописуемый: не за себя, за дочку.

Мама держится молодцом! Крышу снесло, но Андрей и Дима починили. Увидели Наташу, Кирюшу и бабушку Валю. У всех отлегло. В наших сердцах расцвели все весенние цветы. Одновременно и заблагоухали наипрекраснейшими ароматами, прекраснее во сто крат, чем лучшие парфюмы лучших домов Парижа.

Дорога обратно оказалась не легче. Шёл бой, пули пролетали над нашими головами. Приходилось прятаться, пригинаться и ползти. Но, добравшись домой, выдохнув изо всех сил, мы осознали, что совершили нечто!

Поселок Украина в огне!

Далее сходили к Веронике. Всё по-прежнему. Искали связь на ж/д колее около рынка, не вышло. Попытались найти дом Кати Голышевой, безуспешно. Виталик достал своим любопытством, заглядывает в каждый двор и каждую машину. У меня сдали нервы и я, бросив его, ушла домой к дочери. Пришел, живой…

Я в батьківському будинку. Мамо і тато молоді. Я сиджу, як на чорно-білому фото, в одній руці зелене яблуко, в другій - вафелька. У хустинці, миленька і безклопітна. Поруч батько, вбраний, як тоді, в семидесяті, гарний і віхрастий. Сестра мабуть вже народилася. І матуся гойдає її на своїх руках. Зеленіють дерева, співають пташки. І велике майбутнє попереду.

Моя дорогенька сестричко! Ми живі і матуся також. Вона, як завжди, неспокійна і клопітлива, бігає, щось пече. Я бачила її сьогодні!!! Хлопці, Андрій та Дмитро, відремонтували їй дах, пошкоджений від снаряду, який зруйнував дім сусідів.

Готувала суп з картоплі, знайденої на смітнику. Вона дуже погана, але з готувала і всі поїли з задоволенням. У Волкових знайшли овочі: буряки, моркву, цибулю, гарбуз, капусту. Все у дуже поганому стані. Я перебрала і завтра буду варити овочі на вінегрет. Гарбуз залишимо на потім. Ще була айва, напівзгнівша. Пообрізала, порізала на маленькі шматочки і засипала цукром.

Сестричко, ти уявляєш собі цей жах, про який я тобі пишу? Уявляєш, як ми намагаємося вижити у цьому пеклі? Як я ходжу на смітники і перегрібаю сміття, шукаючи залишки овочів, щоб зварити їх тваринам. Бідолашні собаки та кішки, яких і так було багато без домівок, тепер їх стало вдесятеро більше. Люди, виїжджаючи з міста, залишили їх напризволяще.

Я весь день намагаюся додзвонитися до тебе, але немає ні однієї рисочки на телефоні. Пробач, моя рідненька. Незабаром обовʼязково почуємо одна одну, я вірю, і ти вір. Інакше неможна.

          День тридцать четвертый: 29 марта 2022, вторник

Котрий вже день сплю в квартирі на донькиному ліжку, дуже болять коліна, на вечір їх просто викручує нестерпний біль.

Стрільба не закінчується ні на трошки. Вже навіть пульки пролітають над головами у дворі. Якби нам все це у перші дні, ми б, мабуть, всі б померли від розриву серця.

Хочемо піти до Ніки, подивитися, як там. Треба принести додому води з їх будинку, дощову.

Сьогодні вимила підлогу, нагріла води з Сашиної бочки і добресенько вимилася, уся, з ніг до голови.

Племінник Свєти Заводіної - пожежник. Дозволив нам набрати два відра води з пожежної частини. Дякую тобі, хлопче…

Проходить сімейна пара з селища Мирне, вони намагаються знайти гуманітарні продукти, бо четверо дітей і їсти вже нема що. Я запитала, яка у них, і назвала Оксанину вулицю. Кажуть, відносно спокійно.

***

На цьому щоденник обривається.

На подвірʼї лунає вибух. Віталій біжить першим. Раптом виникне пожежа? За ним - Катя. І в цей момент - другий вибух.

Віталік загинув миттєво. Катя отримала важкі поранення.

Добу разом із донькою вона буде переховуватися у підвалі. 30 березня її перенесуть до лікарні #1. Катя - на 2 поверсі. Надя - у підвалі. Донька буде підніматися до мати. Давати їй води. Робити уколи. Лікарів вже немає.

Правою вцілілою рукою Катя писатиме в своєму телефоні, аби донька врятувала щоденники.

2 квітня у лікарні через обстріли станеться займання. У Каті - переломи стегна, плеча та щелепи. І вона почне горіти. Разом із лікарнею. Але зможе вистрибнути з 2 поверху. І впаде під вікна відділення. Там її і знайдуть мати та свекров.

1 або 2 квітня Катя напише мамі записку.

Мама!

Я ранена.

В горбольнице #1.

Врачи все ушли.

Поломана нога и разорвано лицо.

Виталик погиб.

Надя в больничном подвале. Помогите!

Мамо!

Я поранена.

У міськлікарні #1.

Лікарі всі пішли.

Поламано ногу і розірвано обличчя.

Віталік загинув.

Надя у лікарняному підвалі. Допоможіть!

Цю записку передасть мамі на селище Мирний якийсь незнайомий чоловік.

Дві мати - Каті та Віталія - підуть до лікарні. Але знайдуть дівчину, коли вже втратять будь-яку надію і повертатимуться додому. Катя лежатиме під картатою сумкою. І мати побачить доньку випадково.

Катя помре на руках мати 4 квітня. У підвалі будинку.

Жінки ховатимуть своїх дітей - Катю та Віталія - тричі.

Наразі родина Савенків знайшла свій вічний спокій на Старокримському цвинтарі.

Каті назавжди 42. Віталію 47.

Донька Надія та мати вижили. Вижили й всі сусіди.

Два зошити щоденника вивезла Людмила Петрівна, мати Каті Савенко.

***

Совсем старая глухая собака Люська стоит около двери и ничто ее не тревожит. Весна. Весь двор пытлает красками: алые, розовые, белые, желтые, и всевозможных форм и оттенков тюльпаны раскрыли свои чаши на солнце. Двор заполняет запах свежего хлеба, испеченного моей Великой Труженицей мамой.

Мы у мамы Вали.

Вона розповідає історії зі свого життя українською мовою. Митька час від часу перебиває її, намагаючись вставити свої п’ять копійок. Наталка готує вечерю, інколи відриваясь і забігаючи у кімнату щось сказати Кириллу.

Я в батька. Ми сидимо у дворі біля їхньої так званої саморобної кухні під кроною черешні, якою він так любив нас пригощати. Його дружина Лариса бігає з каструлями та тарілками, як завжди намагаючись пригостити нас чимось смачненьким. Батько приносить гітару і ми разом співаємо “Катерину” Висоцького, його старі натружені пальці не дуже вдало перебирають струни, але всім подобається і ми дуже щасливі.

***

Ми з сестрою гуляємо по місту. Надя і Анюта про щось шепочуть одна одній, мабуть в них якісь дівчачі секрети. Такі вони в нас гарні! Наші дівчатка. Тепер вони діти війни - безглуздої жорстокої, скалічившої вже багато людських життів. Невже повинні вони так жити?

Сестричка як завжди охайна, гарно вдіта і посміхається. Дуже хоче обійти всі крамниці, щоб купити собі щось надзвичайне, таке, якого не має в її місті. Вона поспішає, бо незабаром їхати додому, в Нікополь, до чоловіка Романа. Скоріш за все вона хоче встигнути купити й йому якийсь приємний подарунок. Гуляймо до вечора, дівчата! І обов’язково з’їмо запашної піцци, яку так люблять наші діти.

Я в підвалі свого наполовину знищеного будинку, пишу у напівтемряві чі строчки…

***

Рядом гуляет берегом Оксанка - солнышко, ее замечательные кудряшки слегка развивает легкий ветерок. Мы всегла ходим с ней на пляж рано утром, Надюша и Даша еще спят и видят прекрасные мирные сны.

Я на работе, которую я так не любила, но не набралась смелости найти другую. Сижу за своим станочком, слушая как монотонно каждые десять секунд падает в лоток отрезок проволоки. Мимо проходит Виктор, курит сигарету и улыбается. Лариса наверное спит у себя в коморке, а кошка Муся мурлыкает где-то рядом. Ромка ходит туда-сюда, а Валя и Аня метут дорожки. Остальные ребята: Димка, Саша Бепедесюк (перевірити правопис прізвища, неясно написано), Сережка Басиев как всегда что-то собирают, гремя своими железками, а Макс и Пашка “зажигают огни”, сваривая детали. Вы простите, что я не упоминаю вас всех. Но все вы мне дороги…

***

Я дома. В нашей квартире, которая досталась нам с таким трудом. Надюша принимает душ и постоянно трещит газовая колонка, тем самым раздражая Витальку. Он в своем синем в клетку халате стоя ест из кастрюли картофельное пюре и аккуратно кладет в рот тоненькие кусочки сала, которое мы вместе купили на рынке и засолили, чтобы наслаждаться затем этим лакомством, доставая очередной судок из морозилки. Шкурку от каждого кусочка он отдает Найде, а та смотрит на него своими мутными благодарными глазами. Машка спит у Нади в комнате, Подрик в поисках приключений бродит по улице, и я слышу его кошачьи “трели” из открытой форточки. Кнопка наверное у Волковых на этаже спит в их шкафчике, где в нижнем ящике тетя Надя прячет кошачий корм, чтобы потом угощать пушистиков. Дядя Саша чем-то стучит на балконе, видимо у него какие-то важные дела. В квартире тепло, обычный день и все хорошо.

Я в родительском доме. Мама постарела, моя дорогая мамуля, с нелегкой женской судьбой. Под ногами снуют ее коты, …

***

Догорає передостання свічка. Поряд спить моя дитина на саморобному лежаку, а під боком посапує Найда. Чути вибухи і свист снарядів десь далеко. Але від цього не легше, там теж люди, мої співвітчизники зі своїми сім’ями, в своїх оселях, на вулицях чи в подвалах, як і я благають лише одного - Нехай закінчиться війна! Негайно і прямо зараз!

Досі смертей!

Досі горя!

Почуйте нас!

Я в своєму ліжку. Ніхто не стріляє. Дитина спить в своїй кімнаті, вранці їй до інституту. Поруч мій чоловік Віталік, теплий і дуже коханий. І ми засинаємо одночасно… Нам сниться один і той самий сон довжиною в наше суспільне [прим.перекладача - Катерина мала на увазі спільне життя, лексична помилка] життя, всі наші добрі й погані моменти, навіть сварки. Але ми дуже щасливі в цьому сні, настільки щасливі, що не хочеться просипатися ніколи.