I ask myself a question every day, "How can we go on with our lives? The response was obvious — shots outside the window. Over the years, my husband Viktor has become so used to the war that even stray bullets flying into the apartment, does not pay attention. We had four bullet holes in our room (right on the carpet).

We, old people, have nowhere to run. We are fearless only because we cannot do anything.

We often have power outage in the village. Sometimes there is no voltage, sometimes wires are cut off. The light may disappear for a day or even a week. We always have to have flashlights and candles at hand, as well as water supply. I carried buckets of water to the fifth floor myself. It was very hard.

There is no one to help us. We buried our son before the war. Now we have to survive without heating or gas. Last winter, I and my husband  almost died in the apartment. We were sheltered for the winter by our acquaintances. And in the summer, the owners returned to the house where we lived. So we had to move again to our dilapidated five-story building.