Three weeks of life in besieged Mariupol: “Mom, I don’t understand why I have to see all this at the age of 10?”

Volunteer Alina Stailovskaya, after three weeks of life under bombing in Mariupol, together with her family, managed to go to a safe territory in Ukraine. She told about the nightmare that her family experienced.

Volunteer Alina Stailovskaya, after three weeks of life under bombing in Mariupol, together with her family, managed to go to a safe territory in Ukraine. She told us about the nightmare her family experienced.

On March 17, the family left Mariupol. The orcs announced a “green corridor” and released people under the cameras of their “Media” What the Russians turned my city into cannot be put into words. If you look around – solid Armageddon: houses are either burned to the ground or with huge holes from airstrikes. There are also funnels in the yards, with a radius of 5 to 10 meters. There are a lot of corpses around the houses, lying either in parts or whole. Residents indiscriminately dump them into these funnels and fall asleep with the earth. If someone’s relative dies, he is buried in the yard of the house or on the playground. During the time I was in the city between the houses, neat cemeteries with crosses and inscriptions have already begun to be formed.

When we went to the central street of our district, we didn’t see a single whole house. Once an ideal road with beautiful traffic lights and well-groomed shoulders turned into a scorched field with untwisted burnt Russian tanks mixed with orcs lying next to or on them… I’ll probably remember the smell for life. He was kind of special, it was difficult to breathe like that. Black ashes flew in the air, and the road was covered with construction debris, fragments, and people. It was very difficult to drive a car.

We went under the accompaniment of shelling. At the block post, the orcs distributed chocolates to the children, and at the same time shelled them at homes with hail. The orcs squeezed the chocolates right next to each other, plundering our warehouses, which were on the highway near the checkpoint.

Even if you were lucky and did not come under fire in Mariupol, you could easily die of hunger and dehydration. There is a colossal humanitarian catastrophe in Mariupol!

During the 3 weeks of my stay in the city, there was no water, no light, and no heat. The temperature in the apartment with broken windows was equal to the street temperature of 0\-10… It was with broken windows, not glasses!!! Because the blows to residential buildings were so strong that the shock wave carried out the windows, as in the LEGO designer, and the metal-plastic window handles were cut in fragments in half.

From the lack of water, I had to heat the snow and then boil it. But you don’t pick up much in this way. Sometimes at night, I woke up not from shelling, but from what I was terribly thirsty because I didn’t drink for several days. Water was used only for cooking and was given to children. The limit was 1 mug per day. There was almost no food not because they “didn’t stock up”, there were just enough supplies, though there was no water to cook it. Even when we managed to cook rice, we set a limit of 2 tablespoons per person per day. The food was cooked on the grill in the yard. But because of the constant shelling, it was not always possible to get to this grill. There were people who under fire went for water to the well, which was in the neighboring area (40 minutes on foot), but not everyone came back. I would even say that most of them didn’t come back…

The shelling of the city was constantly, non-stop, starting at 4 a.m. Every morning, exactly at 4 a.m., airstrikes began on a residential area … where only continuous sleeping areas per kilometer, without any military infrastructure … There were a lot of airstrikes, they started from the western part of the city and went to the center. There was only one thing left, to hope that there would be no direct hit into the house… And then the hail and a lot of shit began the name of which I don’t know. We have learned to distinguish only airstrikes and Grada. 2 types of shells arrived in our area: those from which the whistle was heard first, and then arrival, they were less dangerous because we managed to escape; and those that arrived without sound, and we already heard and felt, in fact, the explosion itself, fragments from which scattered in all directions, piercing metal-plastic frames, through iron garages.

A lot of such “quiet” fragmentation shells flew into our house, all the windows were taken out in the apartment. From direct hits, the house shook so much that it was impossible to be even in the partition between the apartments. We were just scared, so scared that during the blows themselves you stop breathing … and this fear cannot be compared to the fear when you ride a roller coaster … it was different. It was also scary that we couldn’t do anything… we couldn’t even break out of this hell, because the Russians didn’t let us out of the city… We didn’t even hope to stay alive, we just wanted it all to end…

When the shelling of our house was over, and the orcs moved to the next area, we grabbed the documents and the children and ran out of the house to the neighboring house of our parents. Closing the door in my apartment, I caught myself closing the lock for all 4 turns… I took out the floor of the apartment, and I stand and diligently close the door…

One afternoon, a Russian tank came to our house and started shooting at the ninth floor of a neighboring house. At that time, there were people near the house, but the orcs naturally didn’t care, they had fun… From the first shot into the apartment, the wall was smoked, from the second shot the stove collapsed and knocked out the windows of several apartments. We learned about the people who were in the apartment later when graves began to appear in the yard. The orcs would have continued, but our military bypassed the neighboring house and shot the tank from behind. He turned over and began to burn, one of the orcs jumped out of it, threw out his helmet, and ran towards the residential yards… naive. Ours shot for the second time and finished off the Russians. When it was over, our OSBB chairman took his helmet, and by the evening he was already taking excursions to the burned tank and the left leg of the orc, which remained there.

The next day it was relatively quiet and the shelling was somewhere far away, but not in our area. We went out into the yard, and my children saw the sun for the first time in 2 weeks and breathed relatively fresh air. My youngest daughter walked near the house and counted the corpses (how many whole and how many halves and parts) …they were everywhere… there was no living place on earth, or a corpse, or a pit from an airstrike… Then she asked: “Mom, I don’t understand why I should see all this at the age of 10?” I didn’t know what to answer…

2 weeks have passed, and my children still dream of Russian tanks, shelling, and war. And I still wake up at 4 a.m…

Source: Ukrainian Post

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