Thread by @UkrainianMath

Nadezhda Sukhorukova (Mariupol, 03/19/2022):
I go outdoors in between bombings. I need to walk the dog. She constantly whines, trembles and hides behind my legs. I am sleepy all the time. Our yard, surrounded by high-rise buildings, is quiet and dead.

I'm no longer afraid to look around. Opposite to me, building 105 is burning down. The flames have devoured five floors and are slowly spreading to the sixth. In the apartment, the fire burns gently just as a fireplace.

Black charred windows stand without glass. Out of the windows curtains gnawed by flames fall out like tongues. I look at it calmly and haplessly.

I'm sure I'll die soon. It's a matter of days. In this city, everyone is constantly waiting for death. I just wish it wasn't too scary. Three days ago, a friend of my older nephew came to us and said that there was a direct hit in the fire department. Firefighters died.

One woman had her arm, leg and head torn off. I wish that my body parts will remain in place, even after the explosion of an air bomb. I don't know why, but it seems important to me.

On the other hand, nobody gets buried here. This is what the police told us when we met them on the street and asked what to do with the dead grandmother of our friend. They advised to put her on the balcony. I wonder how dead bodies are on balconies now?

Our apartment building on Peace Avenue is the only one without direct hits. It was hit twice tangentially by shells, windows are blown out in some apartments, but it is almost intact, compared to the others.

The entire yard is covered with several layers of ash, glass, plastic and metal fragments. I try not to look at the iron dummy that got stuck in the playground. I think it's a rocket, or maybe some kind of mine. I don't care, it's just annoying.

In the window of the third floor I see someone's face and I am startled. It turns out that I'm afraid of people that are alive.

My dog starts to howl and I realize that they will resume shelling soon. I stand in the middle of the day on the street, and there is grave silence. There are no cars, no voices, no children, no old ladies on benches. There is no wind.

There are still a few people here. They lie on the side of the house and in the parking lot, covered with coats. I don't want to look at them. I'm afraid I'll recognize someone I know.

All life in my city is now smoldering in basements. It is like a candle. It would be easy to extinguish. A little vibration or some breeze and the candle will go out. I try to cry, but I can't. I feel sorry for myself, my family, my husband, neighbors, friends.

I go back to the basement and listen to the vile iron rattle. Two weeks have passed, and I no longer believe that there was once a different life.

In Mariupol, all people stay in basements. Every day it gets harder for them to survive. They have no water, food, light, they cannot go outside because of the constant shelling. Mariupol residents must live. Help them. Let everyone know that civilians continue being murdered.

Nadezhda Sukhorukova along with 15 other people, who took shelter in the same basement, and her dog escaped from Mariupol yesterday. She is in relative safety now.