Ukraine. Julia, Kiev
My name is Julia. I’m from Kiev.
I don’t have a special story, we were just lucky. But I want to write a lot. What’s inside. What hurts. It hurts, although, thank God, everything is fine…
On the first day of the war, when I feverishly threw my underpants and socks into a bag, my mother-in-law called and asked if I needed caps for rolling. I
hung up and asked: “Are you serious now?”. “I’m trying somehow to distract myself,” she replied after a pause.
It’s getting harder to breathe every day. There is no heart, there is a spasm. There’s a hole inside. Icy, sucking.
It grows every day, getting closer to the throat… I rub my hands, rub my face, drink warm water… God, it’s lucky that I have such an opportunity, unlike thousands of people sitting in basements now without light, heat, water …
“The video shows just explosions. It is unclear who is shooting…”
“This is all a production.”
“It’s your own fault.”
“You justify the actions of NATO when they bombed… and then the list of countries. Yes? No? Answer without options!”
“It’s you who don’t give green corridors.
Do you judge by yourself? It is YOU who are now justifying the murder of our children and the elderly. You are destroying our homes and schools, boarding schools and maternity hospitals, taking civilians hostage. Answer me! Justify? Yes? No? No options!
A child shudders in my sleep behind me.
Mom is moaning next to me. She’s 80. She’s sick. And I betrayed them both! I could not choose who to save! A child, abandoning his mother, or his mother, dragging her systematically into the cellar!Have you tried taking them to the cellar and then lifting them out of the him an old, ill-walking woman? Try it! Sit in it for hours, listening to the explosions over your hometown! Justify? Yes? No?
You, the few, understand and recognize everything. You ‘re scared, yes. You are beaten with batons and stuffed into paddy wagons. You face 15 years in prison… It’s scary, yes. You have lives and families… yes.
We also have lives, families, homes. For many, it is already in the past.
You came into our life, stuck your dirty boots in, you deliberately bomb, destroy and kill! It’s not scary for you.
Each In the evening I read a prayer and mentally hide the girls I know from Kherson, Odessa, Dnipro, Vinnytsia, Belaya Tserkva with a warm shawl. To make them feel warm, to make them feel comfortable, to feel that we are together. Lena, Katya, Olya, Yulia…
I write to the accompaniment of explosions. It’s good that Mom has bad hearing, she doesn’t hear everything… We listen to every siren, to every sound from the sky.
We sleep in our clothes. Except without a coat. We learned to dress quickly by touch… Do you want to learn this? Yes? No?
Answer quickly and without options!
And mimosa has already bloomed in Georgia… Bang! I really wanted to go there… Bang! And not only there… Bang!
Yes, I can be envied. I was buttoned up in ski pants, in which I it hasn’t been placed for three years for sure. And not just buttoned up, but on warm
leggings and fleece tracksuits. Are you jealous? Yes? No? Quickly and without hesitation!
I try not to think about what will happen next. How and on what we will live, the work is over. Whether there will be a place to live at all. And we will
whether to live at all…
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Justify? Yes? No? Quickly and without hesitation!
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