On February 24, I went to bed at 4 am. I kept thinking that I hadn’t finished my work, so I was tossing and turning in bed. Half an hour later, the first explosion echoed outside my window. Then five more.
The windowpanes in the apartment shook and out on the street car alarms began to howl. Later I learned that a missile that had hit the military base in Brovary, where I live. People were still being pulled out from under the rubble three days later.
I live with my grandmother, who’s 89. By the way, this is the second war in her life. The hardest part was trying to explain to her what was going on and why we had to hide in the bathroom or the hallway several times a night.
It was just as hard to explain it to the animals: I have 5 cats, a dog, 2 rats, and 4 hamsters. I’ve saved each of them at some point, either from the street or from grievous owners.
Every day my grandmother asks me if the war hasn’t ended yet.
So far, I figure my biggest achievement has been that I managed to take my grandmother and animals to a safer place.