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(Explosions)

#

(Pencil scratches on canvas)

#

February 24th, 9.40pm.

First day of war.

It was a turbulent, but relatively peaceful world when we went to bed.

We awoke to find ourselves in a war,

doesn't matter what we dreamed about, or what was going on beforehand.

What was most jarring during that still-dark dawn,

was the abrupt transformation that that happened in an instant,

turning future plans and hopes, into an abyss of despair,

as if a warm summer turned to severe cold.

(Explosions rumble)

(Explosion)

(Explosion)

1.40pm. Third day of war.

When you're scared, you must do something.

My friend, a psychiatrist says that.

When she hears the air raid sirens,

she goes and mops the lobby and the stairs.

She's done it three times already.

Now the floor's shining, she's overcome her fear.

As for me,

I write during the shelling.

The writing is clearly nonsense.

Nothing comes into my head and that's why it's nonsense.

It's rubbish.

I'm scared.

I count explosions,

listen to the roar of the bombs and write.

During breaks I look at my dog and cat.

Somehow they solve their problems with fear.

February 27th, 11.42pm...fourth day of war.

When we finally live through all this,

I'll write about how scary it is to live inside a war,

about different people and situations.

About how things change in the split of a second,

and how small problems become insignificant ones.

Only important things remain.

It appears that there are not so many of them.

It's your life, the lives of your family,

your friends and the people who surround you.

It's that your house stays intact,

that your city is not bombed by GRADs.

Your country is not tormented and tortured.

March 1st...4.42pm.

On the 7th day of the war, we still pretended it wasn't here,

as if it's sort of a misunderstanding.

And that it will all end soon.

We were bombed, and shot at,

and still we were trying to smile at each other.

Everyone had the same look in their eyes,

confused and frightened.

We didn't understand why these dreadful things were happening around us.

What have we done wrong?

(Missile roars)

(Explosion)

March 5th, 12pm. 10th day of war.

One woman has lost her hand,

her leg,

and her head.

I hope the parts of my body will remain where they should be,

even after an air bomb explosion.

I don't know why, but it seems important to me.

Although on the other hand,

they won't bury people during active combat.

That was the answer the cops gave us when we asked them,

what we were to do with the dead grandmother of one of our friends?

They told us to put her on a balcony.

I wonder...how many balconies have dead bodies there?

(Missile roars overhead)

March 6th...10.32pm.

11th day of war.

I go outside in breaks between bombings.

I need to take my dog for a walk, she whines constantly,

shakes and hides behind my legs.

My yard, surrounded by high residential buildings is quiet and dead.

I'm no longer afraid to look around.

Across the yard, the entrance to the building number 105 is burning.

The flames have devoured five floors,

and are slowly chewing on the sixth.

Through the windows of one apartment,

fire burns almost cosily, like it's in a fireplace.

The glassless windows are black as charcoal.

On each side hang curtains half burned by the fire.

I look at all this calmly, feeling doomed.

(Explosion)

(Explosion)

(Glass smashing)

(Cries loudly)

March 9th...7pm, 14th day of war.

My dog starts howling, and I understand they will start again now.

I stand on the street, it's day time but,

a graveyard silence surrounds me.

No cars,

no voices,

no children,

no babushkas sitting on the benches.

Even the wind has died.

Still...there are a few people here.

They lay motionless by the house or in the parking lot,

covered by cast-off clothes of blankets.

I don't want to look at them.

I'm afraid I might see someone I know.

(Missile whistles through the air)

(Explosion)

March 11th, 11pm.

16th day of war.

Three days ago my elder nephew's friend came by.

He told us there had been a direct hit at a fire station.

Fire fighters died.

I'm sure I'll die soon.

It's only a matter of several days.

Everyone awaits their death.

I just wish mine not to be too scary.

(Explosions)

(She screams in pain)

(Indistinct chatter)

(High pitched sound of missile)

(Explosion)

(Explosion)

(Explosion)

March 16th.

12 am.

21st day of war.

Do you know what night shelling is like?

It's like...death sucking all the juice from you.

You can't let yourself sleep at night,

because you'll have peaceful dreams,

which you'll emerge from, and plunge into a nightmare.

First the sound, like someone is using a huge compass to measure the distance to your house,

to hit you more precisely. Then the shell flies,

and you hear a huge hammer smashing the tin roof,

and a scary roar as if a metallic giant in iron-shod boots,

stomps on everything,

smashing people, houses,

trees.

You sit and realise that you can't move,

you can't run.

There's no sense in screaming.

Nowhere to hide.

It will find you if it wants to.

And silence falls.

An empty silence,

and we wait.

What will hit us next?

And if we hear another sound, we become numb.

#

Because we don't understand what it means,

what kind of death it will bring to us.

Fast, or dreadful?

And always painful.

(Rapid gunfire) (Explosions)

#

(Multiple explosions)

(Explosion)

(Explosion)

March 19th. 11.35am.

24th day of war.

If we hadn't left the city, we would have been dead by now.

At least, I would have been dead.

There were fewer and fewer people in our basement.

People were leaving.

rumours spread that many people were lucky and getting out of this hell.

But they were only rumours.

No one could trust them.

One after the other, our neighbours from the basement disappeared.

The moment someone found some gas,

or friends with a car, they left.

No one said 'goodbye'.

No one packed their bags.

They left everything behind, and ran.

(Chanting)

WOMAN: And we will fight for the independence, sovereignty of the country.

MAN: It's our land, we didn't do anything wrong.

UK support Ukraine!

UK support Ukraine!

(Indistinct chatter)

#

#

April 24th. 1.15am.

60th day of war.

There are so many angels in the sky now,

that their wings can blow the clouds away, and make sky blindly blue.

These are our Ukrainian angels.

They blow the clouds away like curtains opening to look down on Earth.

Down there...

...not everything is good.

Something explodes, falls apart, burns.

But our angels know no fear.

Each one finds his people, those closest.

Those left alone on Earth without them.

Those who need help.

They cry with us and then feel better.

They have the eyes of the members of our families,

our friends, our warriors.

They don't know how to comfort,

so how can one comfort those who are unable to be comforted?

#

Today it's become known that during the blockade,

40,000 people left the city.

Hundreds of thousands of others are still inside that hell.

#

With every new day, it becomes harder and harder for them to survive.

#

Please help them.

Tell the truth about my city.

#

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Subtitles RTE 2023