In 2014, the war began. We lived closer to the center of Donetsk, so the shells did not hit  us. But the terrifying sounds of explosions could still be heard, so we were afraid and hid in the corridor – there were no windows there. We slept with our heads close to the window, so that if a shell came, the splinters would only scratch our legs.

A week later, we went to the sea of Azov, but my mother, father and great-grandmother remained in Donetsk.

Then, just as we were returning, two shells exploded relatively close to us. We live near the recreation center named after the XXI Congress (Leninskyi district). The first shell hit a trolleybus with a lot of people in it. Now there is a small monument with the inscription "We Grieve" there.

While people were dying in the trolleybus, we were calmly studying at school and did not hear the explosion! I don't know why, but it was like it (maybe there was a recess).

The second shell landed on Malakhov street. By that time, there were already roadblocks, and to go to the sea or to my great-grandmother (she lives in Novogrodivka, Donetsk region), we need to leave at six in the morning to get to our destination in the late afternoon. Now there are preferential queues, and thanks to my sister, we pass much faster than before. But I hope that everything will get better soon.