I am completely confused with the dates, because I get stuck in a routine circle of ‘dressing up, running to the basement, sitting in the dark, scrolling the news, feeling reluctant to leave the shelter, getting back home, dressing down, staying in the corridor’. My mental state is so uptight… If it is no sounds of bombing, you start getting even more nervous than when it is loud around.

My first thought about escaping appeared when I was sitting in the basement with my neighbors, and they got to know about their sons leaving the town. The reaction was crucial and kind of hysterical with the exclamations…’How dare they… ’; ‘They closed the cat in the flat! ’; ‘How they will pass under the bombs… ’; ‘Where will they find a place to leave with an infant!

The problems connected with this step can cause a sensitive reaction, because of a few points simultaneously. Firstly, the son and his wife are the parents of a newborn child, and they must be provided with the necessary supplies and conditions, which is a bit difficult on the go (especially in traffic jams of huge lengths). Secondly, they really closed their pet cat in a flat with no chance to escape. In addition, their son expects them to come and feed the cat… Maybe he doesn’t consider the fact that it’s a bit dangerous to drive a car to get to his place and save the cat… Thirdly, there are a lot of cars with people leaving the town, so they will definitely get stuck in a traffic jam. With an infant, it can be difficult due to the fact that they are not aware of their final stop. Our basement is full of criticism and loud arguments against this decision… But I seem to feel he has made the right choice! My gut instinct (of a frightened animal) whispers ‘Escape! Run away!’. I dare comment on it as ‘a good idea’, and I catch a wave of negativity.

We are standing in a line at the shop to get a loaf of bread and milk. It’s quiet around, but not really quiet inside my mind. Recently I have felt like a hamster in a cell… running on a wheel (flat-basement-flat). I want to escape. I ask my father if we leave… He answers with a pause ‘I don’t know. My father always has a decision in hand, but not now. He pauses again. ‘Maybe tomorrow … by car… we must get up really early to be able to leave the area, because of uptight traffic’. (We can’t move at night due to the curfew. During the curfew anybody on the street can be considered a saboteur or a spy and can be killed). So… one more day in this hell!

We get back home with 2 cartons of milk! Now I am sitting in the corridor next to my husband. He is sitting on the carpet with his laptop working on a project… His mother calls and gives a small talk. She mentions something like ‘don’t you know how things are with your flat…’ Let’s get back to the fact that the flat we live in is close to the suburbs and this area is being bombed all the time. My husband, who is reluctant to make calls, asks me to call one of our neighbors. It was a dramatic step.

– Valeriy, hello, it is Ann from the 2nd floor … Sorry, to bother you…
– The shell has flown. The house is on fire.

I Don’t count on this…

This has blown my mind! I can’t stay here. I want to run. I want to escape. Please, save me! Anybody! The final nail in the coffin!
At the same moment, my husband gets the message from his colleague where the latter shares his concerns about a situation when occupiers enter a town and how they treat women…

My husband turns to me and pronounces ‘you must leave’ in a plain cold voice. I am shocked. He is more than serious. I must go somewhere alone as a refugee. I can’t believe this. It is the moment when I get older. I start getting panicked, but it’s useless. I must accept the situation. There is no other way out, probably…
‘Let’s have a look at the schedule of evacuation trains…’

Do you remember, I asked somebody to save me… I didn’t expect such feedback!

– Today there are 3 more evacuation trains. At 18:00, 20:00 and 22:00.
– Where are they going? Somewhere to the West. You will get to know when it starts moving.
– I don’t want to go by myself…
– Men are liable for military service, usually not allowed to get on a train. Pack your things.

I don’t believe I am talking to my husband. Stone cold voice. As not a silly person I understand the depth of his fear about my future, and this makes him talk to me this way, not to begin getting desperate and emotional. His wife can be raped in an occupied town or stay alone somewhere 2000 km from him… What a choice!

I am grabbing my documents and dividing the sum of money into several places to keep it safe. My thoughts are mixed and rather vague, my hands and knees are shaking badly. This is the moment of growing up and reaching maturity. I still can’t believe it. In addition to a folder with some documents and a laptop, there is a room in my backpack for a really limited amount of things. So, I put on a pair of trainers, a pair of jeans, some underwear and …. That’s all. I hardly zip it up. Now it’s time to get to the railway station. But how?

It’s already 16:00 and the curfew begins at 17:00. I open a taxi app and try to find a car (desperately). Also, my husband is calling other services without getting any answers or getting rejections. I am raising the sum in the application… No response. It’s silly, it’s too late. The feeling that I am not going anywhere is even more painful than the necessity to escape. The moment I have taken fate, everything is turning upside down.

Suddenly, there is a call. A voice of a keen smoker asks if I am ready to go right now… He is really close and he can give me a lift. The sum that he mentions is 20 times higher than on an ordinary day, but ‘this is a war, baby…’ I don’t care. I can give you all I have in my pocket.

My husband and I are in a car with a driver smoking and listening to loud music. We feel like we are grabbed and even physically experience the efforts of this a bit outdated engine to move us forward. It’s no more than half a kilometer that we have covered when we see a roadblock with a burned-out tank standing nearby. What??? A burned-out tank… means that the shooting was so close to us! Difficult to accept. We are asked to show our documents and, after not really quick checking, we are allowed to pass. Our ‘swift as wind’ driver continues our journey through empty roads. Eventually, we reach the railway station. On time. It’s 5 pm.

Actually, we reach not the railway station itself, but the area around, where a long line of people with suitcases (or just handbags like we have) stretches from the main entrance to the … I think we are 800 meters from the entrance. It’s cold and snowy and we can hear the sound of bombing somewhere on the right. What an amusement it is to spend some time, I don’t really know how much, standing in this line without any guarantee to be taken anywhere.

We are standing almost without saying a word. We understand that the most probable good way out is if I manage to take a train. My husband has told me that men were not allowed, so… I don’t really have the power to cry. This is the feeling when you are so disappointed and exhausted that you just don’t have the resources to produce tears. It’s getting dark. It’s cold. It’s shooting. The line moves really slowly. It’s overwhelming.

A few hours later. We turn out to be 400 meters closer to the (I want to say the goal, but) entrance to the railway station terminal. I can’t imagine how many people are already inside. Now it seems there is no chance to get anywhere… Too many people before us and no information at all. I start thinking that we must stay for a night here to get home tomorrow. And ‘here’ I mean at least inside the building. And this moment God probably heard my praying.

The shooting around becomes louder, but we are still next to the walls of the building. Suddenly military servants open a discreet door on the side of the building and, I don’t know why, but it happened just in front of us. We don’t think a lot and run inside. It turns out to be an entrance to the underground passage between the platforms. The picture is a bit shocking here. There are people sitting on the cases with their pets, children are crying, and the space seems overcrowded. I get scared with the thought that I must spend a night here.

The problem is no coordination at all. Nobody knows where to go and what to wait for. I only know that from the 1st platform it is a train to Lviv, but the problem is this passage is not connected with one platform, actually this first. So, we expect to take the train to another city. (There is no difference because nobody waits for us anywhere). Again, the problem is that we don’t know what platform to choose to stand in a line with our expectations.

We hear one woman mentioning the 3rd platform, so we decide to go upstairs there and wait with the other people. The people on the platform are also not sure about their expectations. Now I come up with the idea that some kind of preparation for the trip including food supplies and warm clothes is really necessary. But we have what we have. So, we are standing feeling cold and hungry.

We are still standing when I get so cold that I can’t bear it. I say to my husband that I need to go downstairs to the tunnel to warm up a bit. So, we are standing in the passage, my desperation and I… At this moment I hear an announcement that an electric train is to arrive at the 7th platform. Without feeling my frozen feet I am running upwards to tell my husband about this. A few seconds later we are running to the 7th platform jumping over the rails. The people around don’t understand anything, but follow us, jumping over the rails too.

We are at the 7th platform. Fortunately, an electric train is coming… The train is not really a word to describe this thing. The light is off. The train seems very old and even outdated. There are no compartments and places to lie on. There are just hard wooden benches even without division into seats, but approximately one bench holds three passengers. The benches are located in 2 rows. The back of one bench is adjusted to the other. There is a rush in the line. Two military servants around each door watch the documents and ‘load’ people. Mothers with toddlers come first, then, elderly people, then everybody else.

I feel the hands of a military servant helping me inside. I can’t make out anything, I am just lost. I don’t understand where my husband is in the crowd… I am lucky to take a seat on this wooden bench… it’s still dark inside. We were explained that the ‘blackout’ works not just for the houses, but for the train too. We must move unnoticed to avoid shooting. Because there are Russian troops around the city, really close. In the window, I can see that there are no more mothers with small children and…. They are taking my husband inside! He even sits next to me on this wooden bench. I have never ever been happier than now!

We are sitting inside the train with the light off. We are surrounded by animals and other anxious and nervous people talking and making calls. While staying there some more people get the information about this electric train, so they are joining and now there are no more seats… So, they are standing on their feet between the rows of benches. The smartest make themselves comfortable in their suitcases or bags…

Time passes slowly, but eventually our ‘train’ moves. This old thing is moving really slowly… It feels like no more than 30 kph. But I’m still really happy because I am leaving this dangerous place!

We cover around 15 kilometers and suddenly stop… I am sitting in a carriage in the middle of nowhere because there is no ventilation or light, or an attendant, or guide… Oh no the light is on! Now I get so scared that my stomach shrinks to the size of a coin or a peanut, whatever. The Russians can notify us, they can start shooting! These 40 minutes are even worse than the ones spent in the cellar. I can’t come up with the words to describe it… You can’t imagine how happy I am when we finally move!
We will have a lot of such stops ahead, but I won’t be as frightened anymore…

If you want to eat, you may just fall asleep, but it’s really difficult when you sit on a hard surface. The only option that I find is to lean forward to stick my forehead into my handbag. It’s awful for your neck and back, but it’s a better option than leaning to the side or back on the seat.
I usually don’t sleep on a train, but I am so hungry and exhausted that I take a few naps. We spend the night and in the daylight the train seems even more awful, but it has been taking us from danger!

We even stop at a few local stations and are allowed to buy food and get the pets outside (due to natural reasons, you know). Actually, we can’t manage to buy anything, because of the line and lack of time. Everybody is hungry, everybody is tired.

We spent a lot there… Only by the evening of the next day, we reached the town. With pain all over our bodies, empty stomachs, and having no idea of what to do next, we are leaving the train. Thank you, train. We are officially refugees now. But we are still together and this is the most important thing. Let’s look for a place to eat and stay for a night in a new city during a curfew…